Page 134 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

He looks away again, staring at the blank TV screen. “It’s… tempting. The ultimate comeback story, right? Conquering the mountain that almost killed me. Good for the brand. Good for… me.”

Good for you?

Or good for the adrenaline junkie still lurking beneath the surface?

“And what about Mia?” I ask, the words catching in my throat. “What about… us?”

Us?

Did I just say us?

He finally looks back at me, and the conflict in his eyes is painful to see. “Mia changes things, Sabrina. Of course she does. She changes everything. But… this…” He gestures vaguely at the blank screen. “It’s part of who I am. Or who Iwas. I don’t know how to just… turn that off.”

“Maybe you don’t,” I suggest, choosing my words carefully. This is delicate. One wrong move and he’ll shut down completely, or worse, dig in his heels just to prove a point. You know, the whole reverse psychology thing. “Maybe you… sponsor teams? Other jumpers. Back them. It’s like finding a company before it IPOs. You discover talented wingsuit flyers, and pay them to wear the Maxwell & Brigg logo.”

He runs a hand through his hair, looking cornered. “And live vicariously through them? I don’t... it’s not the same.”

“But if you fly, you could have another accident,” I press.

His jaw tightens. “You think I don’t know that? You think I want to leave Mia fatherless? You think I want to put you through... that?” His voice is rough with emotion.

“Then don’t,” I say, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “Don’t do it. Please, Leo. For her. For… for your own sake.”

I can’t bring myself to say‘for my sake’because that implies a level of emotional entanglement I’m not ready to admit, not even to myself.

He stares at me for a long, agonizing moment. The silence stretches. I see the battle raging in his eyes... the lure of the jump, the pull of the abyss, warring with his new, fragile sense of responsibility.

“I haven’t decided anything yet, Sabrina,” he says finally, sounding weary. “It’s just… an invitation. An option.” He pushes away from the weight bench, limping slightly as he walks towards the gym door. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “But I hear you. Okay? I hear your concerns.”

He doesn’t say he won’t do it. He doesn’t say hewill. He just… leaves me standing there in the silence of his home gym, with a knot of dread tightening in my stomach.

He hears my concerns.

Great.

That’s PR speak for ‘I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want anyway, but thanks for your input.’

This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Red Bull has issued thechallenge.

Luca has planted the seed.

And Leo Maxwell, for all his talk of change and new priorities, is still a man who defines himself by the risks he takes.

And I, Sabrina Taylor, PR crisis manager, have just realized I’m facing the biggest crisis of my career.

And this time, it’s not about saving a client’s reputation.

It’s about saving the father of my child from himself.

And I have absolutely no freakin’ idea how I’m going to do it.

36

Leo

The familiar burn.

---