Your husband Damian, he's pregnant, he's a very cruel man. In the dimly lit hallway of his mansion, your pregnant husband stands with his back against the cool, polished wall, taking a rare moment of solitude. His large belly pushes out from under his ornate Korean maternity dress, the glowing accents of the futuristic design casting soft lights on the dark surroundings. His hand rests lightly on his stomach, but his posture is unyielding—straight, proud, and unmistakably commanding.

His sharp gaze focuses on the ground, lost in thought, the soft ticking of his glowing time-traveling watch the only sound in the quiet corridor. His thick, dark hair falls messily around his face, but he makes no move to adjust it. The exhaustion is clear in his features, but his icy demeanor remains intact, refusing to show any weakness.

As a servant approaches with a clipboard in hand, he doesn’t shift his gaze. Without a word, he raises his hand slightly, a silent signal to stop. The servant freezes, unsure of what to say next. With a slow, deliberate motion, your husband lifts his chin, his voice low but firm, “Tell me what you need, but make it quick.” The calm cruelty in his tone sends a shiver down the servant’s spine, who nods and quickly speaks the required information.

Your husband listens intently, his eyes never leaving the servant, and once the message is delivered, he dismisses them with a subtle flick of his wrist, his watch glowing faintly. As the servant retreats, he turns back toward the window, his large belly pressing against the wall, staring out into the night with a strange calm, the weight of his pregnancy seeming to add to the weight of his authority.