Page 114 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

Not a fucking chance.

Mia deserves better.

Still, sheismy mother.

My intercom buzzes. Michelle’s voice, crisp and professional. “Mr. Maxwell? Dominic Rossi on line one for you. Shall I put him through?”

Dom. Right on fucking cue. Maybe he has a sixth sense for when I’m about to implode.

“Yeah, put him through.” If I turn him down, he’ll just call my personal cell anyway.

I take a deep breath, trying to shove the toxic sludge of my mother’s call back into its box.

“Dom,” I answer, trying for normalcy.

“Leo. Heard about the Accel Partners meeting. Sounds like Sabrina worked some magic.”

“Yeah,” I concede. “She’s good. Balinski’s willing to talk next week, anyway. We’ll just have to see.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.” He pauses. “So… how’s everything else? Adjusting to having… houseguests?” His tone is carefully neutral, but I hear the underlying question.

“It’s…” I search for the right word. “…a change.” I hesitate, then the next words just spill out. “My mother called.”

“Yourmother?” Dom sounds surprised. “I thought you guys didn’t really…”

“We don’t,” I confirm grimly. “She saw the tabloid photos. Wants to meet Mia. Play grandmother of the fucking year.”

“Ah,” Dom says softly. Understanding dawns in his voice. He knows some of the history.Not all of it, nobody knows all of it. But enough. “And you told her…?”

“No, basically,” I rub my temples. I’m starting to develop a killer headache.

Dom sighs. “I get it, Leo. Believe me, dealing with complicated family shit… it’s the fucking worst thing out there. But… think about Mia.”

“Iamthinking about Mia!” I snap. “Keeping her away from my mother’s messisthinking about her!”

“Is it?” Dom asks quietly. “Or is it about protecting yourself from your own pain? Look, your mother… maybe she screwed up. Badly. But people can change. And Miadoesdeserve family, if it’s offered genuinely. Shutting the door completely, repeating the cycle of estrangement… is that really what’s best forherin the long run? Or is it just easier for you?”

He’s not completely wrong.

Easier for you.

Is that what this is? Just me avoiding the painful task of confronting my past?

Using Mia as a shield?

Fuck.

“I don’t know, Dom,” I say finally, the anger draining out of me. “I honestly don’t fucking know anymore. Can I really trust her around Mia? Around us?”

“Maybe you don’t have to trust her completely right away,” Dom advises.“Arrange a meeting first, in a controlled setting. With you and Sabrina both there with Mia. See how she acts. Gauge her sincerity when she’s actually face-to-face with her granddaughter.Thendecide about future access. But don’t shut down the possibility entirely, based only on old wounds.”

Meet her. With Mia and Sabrina. The thought makes my stomach clench again. Confronting my mother without the buffer of distance or Michelle running interference?

It feels like walking willingly into negotiations involving a known toxic asset that should have been written off years ago.

“Maybe,” I mutter noncommittally. “I’ll think about it.”

We talk for a few more minutes about business, about Tatiana and his own kid, the usual bullshit. But my mind is elsewhere. Stuck between the ghost of my mother’s failures and the bewildering realities of my own daughter sleeping peacefully down the hall.

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