Page 75 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

“He has no say in my private life.” I say, more angrily than I intend.

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment I think she’s going to poke again, but then she lets it go. “Okay. Okay.”

“Look, this is just…” I pause. “This is just a dad wanting to take his kid to the park.”

Jesus, did I just call myself ‘dad’?

“A dad in disguise,” she points out dryly.

“A dad in disguise,” I concede. “Look, I get your concerns. About privacy, about the press. That’s what I hired you for. But we’ll be careful. I promise. Charlie and Darius will be with us, discreetly.”

“Your security team?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “That’s your definition of a casual park trip?”

“My definition of keeping my daughter safe,” I counter, meeting her gaze steadily. “Which is the priority here, right? Besides, they come with me everywhere in public.”

“Andtheywon’t be recognized by anyone?” she presses.

“I’ll have them throw on hats and sunglasses, too,” I insist.

She sighs, looking down at Mia, who has finally fallen asleep against her shoulder.

“Fine,” she says finally. “One hour. In the park. You wear a disguise. Your security wears a disguise, too, and stays far enough away not to look like a presidential motorcade.”

Victory.

“Done!” I say quickly, before she can change her mind. “See you tomorrow at five.”

The next day,precisely at 4:55 PM, the private elevator dings. Thomas, my household manager, has already brought up the sleek, ridiculously expensive stroller I impulse-bought online, placing it near the door.

I adjust my baseball cap, and then the thick-rimmed, non-prescription glasses perched on my nose. My ‘disguise.’ My carbon fiber cane rests against the wall nearby.

Thomas stands next to Sabrina as the elevator doors open fully. She steps out, already maneuvering Mia into the aforementioned stroller. Mia’s bundled in some kind of pink snowsuit thing despite it being a mild day. Sabrina herself looks… stressed but determined. She takes one look at my glasses and lets out a snort.

“Seriously, Leo? That’s the disguise? I thoughtyou said sunglasses. These look like normal glasses to me... Clark Kent called, and he wants his subtle look back.”

“Hey, it worked for him,” I retort, offering a charming grin that she doesn’t return. I grab my cane, the familiar ache in my hip protesting the movement. “Ready for Operation Normal Dad?”

She rolls her eyes but starts pushing the stroller towards the elevator as I follow, my gait still uneven, the cane clicking rhythmically on the marble floor. “Just try not to get us mobbed, okay?”

Downstairs, Darius has the Maybach waiting. Charlie opens the back door and efficiently helps Thomas load the folded stroller into the cavernous trunk space.

“Sabrina, this is Darius,” I say, making the introductions. “He drives. And you already know Charlie, head of security.” Both men nod curtly, their faces impassive. They’re both wearing plainclothes today, with matching baseball caps and sunglasses.

“Wow,” Sabrina deadpans. “Just missing the earpieces and the identical wristwatches. Seriously subtle. Are we expecting trouble at the sandbox, Leo, or did you just hire the world’s most intimidating park rangers?”

I chuckle softly and shrug at my guys.

“PR humor,” I explain as Sabrina gets Mia secured in the integrated child seat.

I get in beside her, the movement sending a twinge up my thigh. Charlie takes the front passenger seat as usual. The privacy partition glides up.

The park trip is… weirdly normal. Getting the stroller out and navigating the park paths is more effort than I anticipated, my leg throbbing with every uneven paving stone.

We find a quiet bench near the carousel and I rest on my cane. Sabrina unfolds the stroller near the bench, letting Mia look around. Charlie and Darius meanwhile position themselves discreetly on nearby paths, pretending to read or talk on their phones, but their eyes constantly scan.

Sabrina watches me like a hawk every time I interact with Mia... which mostly involves me awkwardly leaning forward from the bench, trying to make her smile in her stroller while she stares at me with those solemn green eyes.

Then a couple, pushing their own fancy stroller, stops nearby. The woman smiles warmly. “Oh, she’s adorable! How old is she?”

---