Page 53 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

Fucking perfect timing.

I snatch it up, answering with barely concealed irritation, keeping my voice low but sharp. “Dom, bad time. Call you back. I just found out I’m a father.”

“Wait,what?” Dom’s voice comes through. “Where are you?”

“Doesn’t matter where I am,” I hiss, acutely aware of the lawyers watching me. “Look, I’m dealing with it. I have my lawyers here right now. Call me back tonight.” I make to disconnect.

“Whoa, whoa,lawyers,too?” Dom’s voice sharpens, losing its usual calm. “No fucking way you’re hanging up now, Leo. What lawyers? What are you doing? Step out of that room,now.”

His insistence, that sudden shift to command mode, stops me cold. He’s serious. And maybe, just maybe, he’s the only person who can talk me off this particular ledge right now.

Fuck.

I lower the phone slightly, meeting the curious gazes of Victoria, Peterson, and Vale.

“Need to take this after all,” I say, my voice tight. I push back from the table, grabbing my cane. “Give me ten minutes.”

Without waiting for a reply, I limp out of the conference room, pulling the heavy door shut behind me.

I raise the phone back to my ear as I head down the hall towardsthe alcove.

“Okay, Dom,” I sigh, the anger momentarily eclipsed by a wave of sheer, overwhelming WTF. “You’ve got ten minutes before I potentially authorize World War Three.”

“Start talking, Leo,” Dom commands. “Father? Lawyers? What thehellhappened?”

I lean against the cool glass, staring down at the city that suddenly feels alien. “I had a meeting with a PR consultant Luca recommended,” I begin, the words feeling surreal. “Turns out, by a stroke of luck, she’s the girl from Vegas. Sabrina Taylor. The one I couldn’t fucking remember clearly? And she has a kid. An eleven-month-old kid with my fucking eyes.”

Silence on the other end. Then, a low whistle. “Holy shit, Leo. Seriously?”

“Deadly serious.”

“And the kid… it’s yours? Confirmed?”

“Timeline fits. Eyes don’t lie. She admitted it.” The rage simmers again just thinking about it. “Kept her hidden for twenty months, Dom.”

“Okay,” Dom says slowly. “Okay, first, breathe. Second, where are you now?”

“As I said, meeting with my lawyers. Discussing custody arrangements. Full custody, preferably.”

“Leo, stop,” Dom sounds alarmed. “Whatever you’re planning, just stop. Don’t do anything rash.”

“Rash?” I laugh, a harsh, humorless sound. “She hid my daughter, Dom! What’s rash about demanding my rights?”

“Because going in guns blazing is the worst possible fucking move right now,” he says urgently. “Trust me on this. Think about the kid, Leo. What’s her name?”

I pause. “Mia.” Saying her name feels… strange. Solid.

“Think about Mia,” Dom says. “You want her first experience of having a father to be a fucking courtroom battle? Lawyers tearing her mother apart? Is that the foundation you want to build?”

“But her mother lied to me!” I shout into the phone, the anger boiling over again.

“And this was today?” he asks.

“Yes, just before I got back to the office,” I reply.

“And I bet you handled finding out with your usual calm, diplomatic grace, right?” Dom counters sarcastically. “Judging by the fact you jumped straight from ‘father’ to ‘lawyers’ in under five minutes, I’m guessing you probably stormed out of your meeting with her making threats and acting like a world-class asshole. Because you were hurt, blindsided, angry. Fine. Understandable, even. But that’s not how you treat the mother of your child, especially not five seconds after discovering she exists. Not if you actually want to be a father, not just win some pissing contest legal battle. Trust me, from one father to another, you can’t act this way.”

His words hit harder than they should. Because he’s right. Even without knowing the exact words exchanged, he knowsme. He knows how I react when cornered, when my control slips.

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