Page 9 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

Damn.Rossi doesn’t mince words.

Marco shrinks back slightly, guilt flashing across his face. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Rossi replies, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. It’s friendly, but the underlying message is clear. “Let’s get you out of here before your good intentions go to shit.”

Leo groans dramatically. “Come on Dom. We’re just getting started.” He shoots me a look that clearly says‘Don’t let him ruin our fun.’

Rossi shrugs. “You’re the one who just interrupted me in the bathroom, remember?”

Good point.

Tatiana jumps in, perhaps sensing an escape route. “Dom is right, we should change. The pool’s closing soon anyway.” It’s a blatant lie... the party’s still going strong... but Rossi shoots her a grateful look.

Marco needs extracting from this overly intimate environment. We all do.

Probably.

“Fine,” Leo concedes with a sigh, though he doesn’t look happy about it. “But the day is young. Let’s hit the Strip.”

That sounds… marginally safer than staying here. Maybe the walk will clear everyone’s heads. Especially Tatiana’s.

And mine.

An hour later,showered and changed, we reconvene in the opulent hotel lobby. I’d swapped my bikini for jean shorts and a red tank top... casual, but hopefully cute enough. Tatiana meanwhile looks stunning in a simple black dress. Her eyes, however, still have that slightly unfocused, hazy look. As do the eyes of Jess and Amara.

Rossi and his coterie appear. He murmurs something in Tatiana’s ear, and she laughs, leaning into him slightly. Meanwhile Leo stands beside me, looking unfairly gorgeous in dark jeans and a soft gray knit shirt.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, that charming grin back in place.

“As I’ll ever be,” I reply, trying to match his nonchalance.

As our group heads for the exit, Leo casually takes my hand. My stomach does a weird little flip. His hand is large, warm, engulfing. It feels… nice. Dangerously nice.

I automatically lace my fingers through his, a gesture so unlike me I almost snatch my hand back.

What are you doing, Sabrina? He’s a client-adjacent party boy high on drugs! This has ‘bad idea’ written all over it.

But I don’t pull away.

Outside, the oven-like heat feels like a physical blow after the hotel air conditioning. The sun may have clocked out for the day, but Vegas heat clearly didn’t get the memo about working reasonable hours.The temperature has barely budged from inferno to merely scorching.

I miss the pool already... welcome to Hell’s marketing campaign: “What happens in Vegas literally melts in Vegas.”

The sidewalk radiates stored heat through my sandals, cooking my feet like a DIY hot plate. What’s usually a packed tourist obstacle course is weirdly empty, just scattered groups hurrying between casino entrances like heat-seeking missiles in reverse.

I immediately feel sweat bead along my hairline. My carefully applied makeup is now on a countdown to catastrophe.

“Nobody mentioned the weather forecast was ‘surface of the sun’ today,” I mutter.

“Isn’t it great!” Leo says, and from the sound of it, he means every word.

Damn GHB.

My body can’t decide if it wants to sweat or simply evaporate as casino sounds escape through periodically opening doors... electronic beeping, occasional shouts, and the persistent ka-ching of money changing hands.

I glance back. Behind us, the two men from Rossi’s security detail remain stoically uncomfortable as they shadow us discreetly.

Tatiana gasps as we pass the Bellagio fountains, which erupt in a perfectly choreographed water ballet at that exact moment.

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