Page 128 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

It’s… a boundary.

A condition.

A challenge, maybe.

His mother seems to understand. She nods vigorously, fresh tears spilling. “Yes. Yes, absolutely. I understand. I’ll be here, Leonardo, as much as I can. I promise. I’ll visit at least once a month.”

But can he truly let her in, even a little?

Will she?Canshe?

Looking between the hopeful, tearful grandmother and the wary, wounded son holding my daughter, I don’t have any easy answers.

This isn’t a PR crisis with a clear solution. This is just… life.

Messy and complicated.

Filled with second chances and the terrifying possibility of repeating the same damn mistakes.

All I know is, sitting here in this ridiculously cheerful café, surrounded by generations of pain… something feels different.

Like maybe breaking the cycle isn’t entirely impossible after all.

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

34

Leo

The penthouse is unusually quiet. Sabrina is out. Running some errand with Mia. Chaperoned by her newly hired security detail.

I miss the occasional distant squeal of Mia playing with Thomas in the living room, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of Sabrina’s fingers on her laptop, the witty banter between us.

I miss her smile.

Her smell.

The meeting with my mother… Karen… yesterday. It was… not as bad as I thought it would be. We agreed to monthly supervised visits here at the penthouse. She cried, promised to be better.

I’m still not sure I buy all of it. Years of disappointment don’t just evaporate overnight. But Sabrina thinks people can change. Thinks Mia deserves a grandmother, even a flawed one.

Maybe she’s right.

Well, I’m trying.

For Mia.

Fuck, listen to me.

Here I am doting on about my daughter when I haven’t closed a proper Series A funding round in months.

What the fuck?

The intercom on my desk buzzes. Michelle’s voice. “Mr. Maxwell, Luca Briggs is on his way over. Unscheduled.”

Luca.

Shit. Haven’t seen him since that disastrous meeting with Sabrina at the office, the one where he acted like a condescending prick and I nearly lost my shit. I’ve been dodging his texts about ‘celebratory drinks’ and ‘weekend plans,’ keeping him at arm’s length, communicating mostly by email and the occasional conference call. Been working exclusively from home, using the tabloid leak and Mia’s presence as an excuse.

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