Page 141 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

About the drug use allegations, her threat to expose him?

Of course I have to. It’s information that could destroy his business, his reputation, maybe even his relationship with Mia if it got out.

“Leo,” I say, my voice quiet but firm. “We need to talk. About what Jen knows. And what she’s threatening to do with it.”

There’s a heavy silence on the other end of the line. Finally: “Yeah. Yeah, I figured it was something like that.” He sighs. “Okay, Sabrina. Lay it on me. What fresh hell are we dealing with now?”

As I recount Jen’s threats, my trust in Leo wavers.

His past, the one he’s so desperately trying to outrun, just kicked down the penthouse door.

And it’s threatening to drag us all down with him.

38

Leo

Jen Takahashi.

Fucking Jen.

Of all the loose ends from my past, she had to be the one to detonate.

Her showing up at the penthouse, threatening Sabrina, threateningMia… it was a goddamn wake-up call. My old life, the one built on casual encounters and chemical distractions, wasn’t just incompatible with this new reality.

It was actively hostile to it.

Victoria Kowalski, my Chief Legal Counsel (and, admittedly, occasional occupant of my former rotation), handled the Jen situation with her usual ruthless efficiency.

A carefully worded cease and desist, an iron-clad NDA, along with a subtle but significant deposit from what I affectionately call my ‘Fuck Off With A Smile’ fund. You know, the fifty million liquid, specifically earmarked for making inconvenient people and their inconvenient threats disappear quietly.

Jen’s silence, it turns out, had a price.

And I was more than happy to pay it.

Charlie also did a full audit of penthouse access. Turns out, Jen had a backup keycard stashed away, one that slipped through the cracks when he supposedly nuked all previous ‘associate’ privileges.

So now, finally, all access codes, all cards, anything not explicitly authorized by me for essential staff, are gone. Fortress Maxwell is now officially on lockdown.

I also had Charlie give Sabrina her own keycard, so that she can come up the elevator without Thomas now. But I suspect she won’t use. She values her small talk with the old guy too much. I don’t blame her. He is quite genial.

Late that night, when I finally return to the penthouse, Sabrina and I find ourselves in the living room. We’re nursing whiskeys. Mine neat, hers with a splash of water. The city lights glitter beyond the massive windows, an indifferent backdrop to the quiet tension between us.

“So,” Sabrinasaysfinally, breaking the silence. “That was… eventful.”

“Understatement,” Igrunt. The word feels inadequate for the clusterfuck Jen unleashed. “Sorry you had to deal with that. Jen’s… got issues.”

“Clearly.” Sheswirlsher drink, not looking at me. “How many other… ‘Jens’ are waiting in the woodwork, Leo? With old keycards and axes to grind?”

Fair.

Fucking fair.

I deserve it.

“None that I know of,” Isay, trying for honesty. Or at least, the closest approximation I can manage right now. “That lifestyle… the casual hookups, the rotation… it’s done, Sabrina. Over.” Imeether gaze then, trying to convey a sincerity I’m not entirely sureI possess, but desperatelywantto. “Mia… you… this…” Igesturevaguely between us. “This changes things.Haschanged things.”

Shestudiesme, her eyes searching mine, probably running my statement through her internal bullshit detector.

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