Page 178 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

But the wingsuiting… Chamonix… that’s different.

That’s him actively choosing risk over us.

Choosing the fall.

“But Mom,” I say stubbornly, “he’s still planning on Chamonix. He’s training for it. He lied to me about his first quarry jump. How can I trust him? How can I build a life with someone who’s constantly flirting with death? Who values that… thatrushmore than his own daughter? More than… me?” The last word is a choked whisper.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Mom admits. “I honestly don’t. That part… that’s terrifying. And maybe itisa dealbreaker. Maybe heisincapable of choosing differently in the end. Maybe the pull is just too strong.” She squeezes my hand. “But are you absolutely sure? Have you really talked to him about it? Have you told him, calmly, without anger, what it would mean for you, for Mia, if he actually goes through with it? Just because he said he’s going to do it, doesn’t mean he can’t be talked out of it. Relationships are all about communication. You have to try, honey. You have to. For Mia’s sake. For yours.”

She’s right, I realize. I haven’t even tried to talk him out of it. Not really.

I yelled at him. And walked out.

Built my walls. Assumed the worst.

“Loving someone like Leo,” Mom says, “someone with that much… intensity, that much damage… it’s always going to be a risk. A huge one. And maybe living in constant fearistoo high a price. For you. And Mia. Maybe you’re right to protect yourselves. If he goes to France, he’s choosing that over a life with you, with his daughter. It’s… it’s another kind of abandonment, just dressed up in adrenaline and glory. But until then, it’s not over. Do you hear me? Until then, you and Leo can still make it work.”

“I just don’t know,” I tell my mom, meaning it.

I imagine talking to him,reallytalking to him, but the outcome only ends up the same. He goes to France. He flies in the Red Bull competition.

And he hits the cliff wall.

I hug myself.

No. I can’t. I can’t do it.

The old, familiar chill of abandonment settles deep in my bones.

My resolve hardens again.

I won’t fall in love with him. I can’t.

He’s made his choice.

And I’ve made mine.

Protect Mia.

Protect myself.

He left first,I tell myself.No matter what Mom or Tatiana say.Hechose the cliff face over us.

The thought doesn’t bring comfort.

I told myself I wouldn’t fall in love with him.

But I wonder if it’s already too late.

46

Leo

The media room in my penthouse, usually reserved for analyzing market trends or, occasionally, watching some mind-numbing action flick to decompress, has become my personal torture chamber.

For the past hour, I’ve been rewatching the Chamonix crash footage.

Not the sanitized, network-edited version.

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