Page 197 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

“Look, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me, the old adrenaline junkie, that won’t miss the sheer fucking thrill of it. The silence. The focus. But the truth is, even before the press conference, even before Luca’s OD threw everything into sharper relief, I was already thinking about it. About how to channel that… thatneedfor the edge, for pushing boundaries, into something else. Something constructive. Something that doesn’t involve me potentially leaving Miafatherless.”

She cocks her head, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.

“I’m launching a new venture fund, Sabrina,” I explain. “Maxwell Safety Innovations. We’re going to invest in cutting-edge technology for extreme sports. Better gear, better training protocols, advanced safety systems. Finding purpose not in risking my own life, but in helping make those sports safer for everyone else who loves that rush. We can make a real difference. Save lives, maybe.”

I see a dawning understanding in her expression.

“And the sponsorships,” I continue, remembering her earlier suggestion, the one I’d dismissed at the time, but she’d clearly planted a seed. “You were right. I can still be involved. Emotionally. Financially. We can sponsor a team. Talented flyers. They can wear the Maxwell Capital logo, promote the safety fund. I can mentor them, guide them. Still be part of that world, but from a different perspective. From the ground. With both feet planted.”

I meet her gaze, trying to convey the sincerity, the absolute conviction I feel. “So, no, there’s no resentment. Because you didn’t take anything away. You… you showed me a different way. A better way. A way to still be… me, the part that craves innovation, that pushes limits, but without risking everything that actually fucking matters now. Because what I’m building, or what Iwantto build, with you, with our daughter… it’s not a cage, Sabrina. It’s… it’s an anchor. It’s the reason I don’tneedto chase that oblivion anymore. The thrill I get from watching Mia figure out how to stack blocks, or from that look in your eyes when you actually let your guard down… it’s a different kind of rush. A better kind.

“The old thrills… they were about forgetting. About not feeling. What I feel with you, with Mia… it’s aboutremembering. Remembering what it means to actually give a shit. To have something to lose. Something worth fighting for, instead of just fighting against myself.

“I don’t resent you. No. I’m fucking grateful. You and Mia… you saved me from a different kind of crash. One I might not have walked away from.”

She stares at me for a long moment, then abruptly bursts into tears. They’re tears of joy.

She gets up suddenly, and holds out her arms to me, like I’m the only lifeline she has in this world.

I know for a fact she’smyonly lifeline.

I get up, and I go to her, and wrap my arms tight around her. The scent of her fills my nostrils. I just hold her, and hold her.

“It’s going to be all right,” I tell her. “Everything’s going to be fine, my vixen.”

She cries on my shoulder for the longest time.

“I believe you,” she says softly. “I believe everything.”

Eventually the tears dry up, but I continue holding her.

Finally, something shifts.

The trembling in her shoulders subsides, replaced by a different kind of tremor, a subtle tension that has nothing to do with sorrow.

I feel it in the way her breath hitches when I shift my grip, my hand sliding from her back, down the curve of her waist, settling on the swell of her hip.

Her body, pressed so tightly against mine, feels… receptive. The air between us, thick with unshed tears and my raw confession only moments ago, now crackles with a different kind of electricity.

The kind that always seems to ignite when we’re this close, this vulnerable.

I pull back just enough to look down at her. Her eyes are still red-rimmed, her cheeks tear-stained, her mascara ruined, but there’s a new light in them.

Not just belief.

But… desire.

Raw.

Unmistakable.

It mirrors the fucking inferno raging inside me.

“Sabrina,” I murmur, my voice a low growl. My thumb traces the line of her jaw, then dips to the pulse hammering at the base of her throat.

Her skin is hot, flushed.

The feel of her in my arms overrides everything else. The PR crises, Luca’s betrayal, the ghosts of my past… they all fade into the background.

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