Page 7 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

The way he says my name, like he’s tasting it, makes heat flood my midsection.

Leo appears between us and thrust shots into our hands. “Less apologizing, more drinking! We’re celebrating Marco’s last days of freedom and Amara’s corporate ascension.”

This is a bad idea. Shots lead to loose lips. Loose lips lead to embarrassing yourself in front of hot billionaires who know your boss.

But Dom is watching me with those dark, amused eyes, and something rebellious flares inside me. I’ve spent two years being the perfect, controlled Tatiana. Maybe, just for this weekend, I can be someone else.

I raise my shot glass. “To celebrations.”

“To celebrations,” Dom echoes, his gaze never leaving mine as we drink.

The liquor burns down my throat, and I suppress a cough. Dom doesn’t even flinch.

Of course not. He probably drinks aged whiskey distilled by monks for breakfast.

“Another!” Leo announces, already signaling the server.

As the second round arrives, I catch Sabrina’s knowing look across the cabana. I shake my head slightly, but she just grins wider.

Dom leans closer, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “You know, most people who work for Christopher are too intimidated to look me in the eye, let alone use me as a human ladder.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” I ask.

“Nope,” he says with that half-smile again. “But don’t worry, what happens in Vegas...”

2

Tatiana

The shot glass feels cool against my palm as I stare at the amber liquid inside. It’s my third? Fifth?

I’ve lost count, which should probably concern me more than it does. The cabana has become our impromptu party zone, with music washing over us in muted waves and the distinct scent of expensive cologne... specifically Dom’s... making my head swim in ways entirely unrelated to the alcohol.

Leo materializes at the center of our merged group, a mischievous grin playing across his face. He’s got that look people get when they’re about to suggest something wildly irresponsible.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announces with theatrical flair, fishing small vials from his pocket. “It’s time to elevate this party.”

Oh fantastic. Drugs. Because alcohol alone wasn’t enough to make this professional boundary violation complete.

“What is that?” Sabrina asks, leaning forward with immediate interest.

Leo winks. “Just a little party enhancer. Takes the edge off. Makes everything...more.” He makes a gesture with his hands like he’s expanding the universe.

“That’s not... GHB, is it?” Jess whispers loudly to no one in particular.

“The gentleman’s version,” Leo confirms. “Pharmaceutical grade. No sketchy shit.”

Because that makes it so much better. Nothing says ‘responsible adult’ quite like taking random drugs from your boss’s friend’s friend in Vegas.

Thankfully Sabrina is on my wavelength.

“Uh huh.” She crosses her arms. “And GHB isneversketchy, right?”

“What’s GHB?” Amara asks.

“Bad news,” Sabrina replies. “Sorry, we’re not those kinds of girls.”

I open my mouth to agree when Dom’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

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