Page 37 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

It’s one thing toknowhe’s the father. It’s another thing entirely to see his genetic signature stamped so undeniably onto this tiny, innocent human being lying on my chest. It’s like he’s right here in the room, marking his territory.

Panic floods me again, momentarily eclipsing the overwhelming love.

How am I goingto hide this?

People will see. They’ll ask questions.

Tatiana already suspects; one look into these eyes and she’llknow.

My mother… well, I can just say the Australian had green eyes.

Green eyes are common in Australia, aren’t they?

“She’s beautiful, Sabrina,” Tatiana whispers, leaning over. “Absolutely beautiful.” She gently strokes the baby’s cheek. “Look at those eyes! So striking.”

I force a smile, my heart pounding.

“Yeah,” I manage, my voice tight. “Striking.”

Strikingly identical to her billionaire adrenaline-junkie father who has no idea she exists.

My daughter makes a soft cooing sound, her green gaze fixed trustingly on my face. And in that moment, looking down at her, the panic recedes, replaced by a wave of fierce, primal protectiveness so strong it steals my breath away.

This tiny person is mine.

Mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to raise.

Leo’s eyes or not, she belongs tome.

She deserves a life free from the chaos and instability her father represents. She deserves a parent who chooses her, unequivocally, every single day. Not one who might, on a whim, decide to acknowledge her existence between wingsuit jumps and board meetings.

The guilt is still there, a dull ache beneath the fierce love. The guilt of keeping this secret, of denying her a father, even a potentially shitty one. The guilt of the lie I told my mother, the lie I’ll have to keep telling. It’s a heavy weight.

But still, looking at Mia...Mia Grace Taylor... the guilt feels like a necessary burden. A shield. The priceI have to pay to protect her and keep her safe. To give her the stable, loving childhood I never had.

“What are you going to name her?” Tatiana asks softly, interrupting my internal turmoil.

“Mia,” I say, the name feeling right on my tongue. “Mia Grace.”

“Mia,” Tatiana repeats, smiling. “It’s perfect. Just like her.”

Tatiana meets my eyes, and there’s an understanding there, a quiet acceptance of the unspoken complexities.

She doesn’t push.

She just offers support.

Mia yawns, a tiny, perfect O of her mouth, and snuggles closer against my chest. Her little body feels so fragile, yet so resilient. Holding her, feeling the steady beat of her tiny heart against mine, solidifies my resolve.

Leo Maxwell might have given her his eyes, but I will give her everything else. A safe home. Unconditional love. Stability. A life where she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that she is wanted, cherished, and enough. Just her and me.

It won’t be easy. The lies will be hard to maintain. The questions will come. The financial strain will be real. Loneliness will probably be a frequent visitor.

But looking down at Mia, my daughter, with her impossibly green eyes, I know I made the right choice.

This is my life now. Messy, complicated, secret-filled, and utterly, terrifyingly, wonderfully transformed.

It’s just beginning.

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