Page 66 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

Sabrina nods back, a flicker of surprise, maybe relief, in her expression. She bends down smoothly and scoops Mia up. Mia makes a soft protesting noise at being separated from her star, then settles against her mother’s shoulder, still watching me.

“Okay,” Sabrina says softly, walking towards me. “Just support her head and back. She’s pretty sturdy, but still...” She positions Mia carefully, showing me how to cradle her.

God, why am I so terrified of this?

I set my cane down on the table beside me. My heart is fucking pounding, and my hands feel hugeand clumsy as I take the small, warm weight from her.

Holy fuck.

I’m doing it.

Actually doing it.

She’s warm. And heavier than she looks. Solid. Real. She smells like powder and… sweetness.

I hold her awkwardly at first, stiffly, still terrified I’m going to break her. I shift my grip, trying to find a more natural hold, mindful of her delicate neck.

Mia squirms slightly, and for a moment I’m horrified that I’ve done something to hurt her, but then I realize she’s just adjusting to the new arms. Finally she settles against my chest, her tiny head resting just under my chin. Her dark curls tickle my skin. She lets out a little sigh, like she’s decided I’m an acceptable, if strange, piece of furniture.

And just like that, something inside me cracks open. Some wall I didn’t even know was there crumbles. The anger, the frustration, the cynicism… they don’t disappear, but they recede, muffled by this overwhelming, terrifying, completely foreign wave of… something else.

Possessiveness, yes, but deeper than that.

A protective instinct so fierce it steals my breath.

Mydaughter.

Yes, I’m a father.

This changes everything.

What I said before about the ‘good guy’ routine not lasting... I’m not so sure about that anymore. Holding her, feeling her next to my beating heart... I know in my soul that I want to set a good example for her... want to protect her aboveeverythingelse.

The hollow ache I’ve been carrying around for half my life seems to lessen, I think,filled by the simple, solid weight of her against me. The relentless drive for the next deal, the next thrill, the next win… it suddenly feels… secondary. Less vital.

Mia shifts again, turning her head slightly, and her cheek brushes against my shirt. Her green eyes stare up at me, wide and curious. She reaches out a tiny, starfish hand, her fingers uncurling, and grabs the finger I instinctively offer her. Her grip is surprisingly strong and trusting.

A choked sound escapes my throat. I look up, meeting Sabrina’s gaze over Mia’s head. She’s watching us, her expression... strangely cautious. But maybe she sees it too... the crack in my facade, the raw, unfamiliar emotion flooding my face.

I look back down at Mia. She blinks slowly, still gripping my finger, her gaze unwavering. It’s like she’s looking right through the bullshit, straight into the wreckage inside. And she’s not scared.

Maybe... maybe I can do this. Be this. For her.

The pain in my leg, the throbbing in my shoulder... it’s still there, a dull counterpoint to the fierce, unexpected warmth spreading through my chest. But it feels different now. Manageable. A problem to be solved, not just endured.

Because suddenly, getting stronger isn’t just about getting back in the game or reclaiming my own fucking life. It’s about being able to hold her properly. To protect her. To maybe, someday, be the kind of father who doesn’t fucking disappear.

I glance over at Sabrina again. She’s still watching, silent, her arms crossed. Seeing me like this... stripped bare, vulnerable, completely out of my depth with this tiny human, yet utterly captivated. She’s seeing the man beneath the billionaire, the wreckage beneath the success.

Mia makes a soft cooing sound, nuzzling against my chest like she belongs there. Yes... the hollow space inside me definitely feels… well, not quite full, but less empty. Less pointless.

A father.The thought doesn’t feel quite so foreign anymore.

It’s still terrifying. Still overwhelming. But maybe… maybe not impossible.

Fuck.

This reallydoeschange everything.

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