Page 180 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

What Istillmight throw away if I don’t get my head out of my ass.

I close my eyes, but the images are seared onto my eyelids.

Not just the crash.

But Mia.

Her face.

Those trusting green eyes, so much like my own, looking up at me from her crib.

Her gummy grin when I fed her smashed banana.

And Sabrina. Her face when I told her I was doing Chamonix. The betrayal. Fear.

The devastating resignation as she walked out with Mia in her arms.

I imagine Mia growing up fatherless. Seeing her milestones not through my eyes, but through grainy videos of some daredevil asshole who chose the abyss over her.

Milestones I wouldn’t be there for.

Her first steps. Her first word. Her first day of school. Her first heartbreak.

I always thought it would be better to die young, a fucking legend, a shooting star.

Now… now I don’t want to die at all.

Not for a long,long time.

Because I actually have a reason to live.

My phone buzzes on the low table beside me.

Caller ID:Karen Maxwell.

My mother.

Perfect fucking timing.

I remember we agreed she could have monthly supervised visits here at the penthouse. She’s probably calling to schedule the next one, or maybe just to check in before her planned trip.

I almost ignore it. Almost let it go to voicemail. But something makes me pick it up.

Maybe it’s the image of Mia lingering in my head.

“Leonardo?” Her voice is hesitant.

“Mom,” I say tiredly.

“I… I was just calling about my visit next week. To see Mia. Is everything still on track? I’ve already booked my flight.”

Of course.

Fuck.

“Mom,” I start, then hesitate. “Mom. There’s been a change of plans. Sabrina… she and Mia aren’t here anymore.”

A sharp intake of breath on her end. “Not there? Leonardo, what happened? Is Mia all right? Is Sabrina?”

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