Page 65 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

“Most things are,” Stephen says mildly, easing the stretch slightly. “Okay, hold this for thirtyseconds.”

The thirty seconds feel like thirty minutes. I can hear faint sounds from the living area now. Sabrina’s voice, low and professional, talking to Thomas. And then… another sound. Higher pitched. A gurgle. A happy squeal.

Mia. She brought Mia.

My breath catches. My muscles tense involuntarily, sending daggers of pain through my hip.

“Relax, Leo,” Stephen commands. “Breathe through it.”

Relax?

My daughter is fifty feet away. The daughter I only saw for the first time a few days ago under the worst possible circumstances. The daughter who shares my eyes. And I’m lying here helpless, hooked up to resistance bands like a fucking lab rat.

When the stretch is finally over, I push myself up awkwardly, grabbing for the cane leaning against the weight bench. “All right, that’s enough for today, Stephen.”

He glances at the clock. “We still have twenty minutes scheduled.”

“Yeah, well, schedule changed,” I say curtly, wiping sweat from my face with a towel. “Got a meeting. Bill me for the full hour.”

Stephen nods and heads toward the gym door.

I slowly limp after him, adjusting the waistband of my workout shorts, suddenly hyper-aware of how pathetic I must look. Sweaty, disheveled, relying on a fucking cane.

As I enter the main living area, the elevator is just closing. No doubt it’s Thomas taking Stephen down, as the elevator requires a key card and fingerprint.

Sabrina looks up from the couch where she’s perched stiffly with a small diaper bag at her feet.She’s wearing tailored black pants and a crisp white blouse today. She looks tired, with dark circles under her eyes that her makeup doesn’t quite hide. Raising a kid alone… yeah, probably doesn’t leave much time for beauty sleep.

And beside her on the floor, sitting on a small blanket Thomas must have provided, and surrounded by a few soft toys, is Mia.

My breath catches again. Holy shit. She’s… tiny. Smaller than I remember from that fleeting glimpse through the nursery door. Dark curls frame a heart-shaped face currently focused intently on trying to stuff a plush star into her mouth. She makes a small, contented sound.

I stop a few feet away, leaning on the cane, unsure what the protocol is here. Do I approach? Do I wait? Fucking hell, I negotiate multi-billion dollar funding rounds, but interacting with a baby feels like navigating a minefield blindfolded.

Sabrina seems to sense my uncertainty. She stands up smoothly, though I notice the slight stiffness in her movements... maybe something left over from childbirth, or maybe just tension.

“Leo. You’re all finished?” Her voice is carefully neutral.

“Yeah,” I manage, my voice rough. “My physiotherapist just left.”

“So that’s who that was,” she comments.

We stand there for an awkward moment, the only sound Mia’s soft gumming noises on her toy. The unspoken questions and unresolved anger from our last meeting hang in the air.

Mia chooses that moment to drop her star and look up, her gaze sweeping the room before landing on me. Those eyes. Fucking identicalto mine. Wide, startlingly green, currently filled with open curiosity. She doesn’t cry or look scared, just… observes me.

It’s unnerving.

Sabrina follows Mia’s gaze, then looks back at me. I see a complex mix of emotions flicker across her face... wariness, protectiveness, something else I can’t read.

She takes a breath, seeming to come to a decision.

“Would you...” she starts, then hesitates, biting her lip slightly. “Would you like to hold her?”

The question hangs in the air. Hold her? Me? The guy who breaks things... deals, relationships, his own goddamn body? The thought is terrifying. What if I drop her? What if she starts screaming? What if she senses the fucked-up mess I am and recoils?

But the image of her tiny face, those eyes looking at me without judgment... it overrides the fear. This is my daughter. My blood. I need to... connect. Or at least try.

I nod, unable to speak past the sudden tightness in my throat. I clear my throat. “Yeah. Okay. If... if that’s all right.”

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