Page 93 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

Because I wanted an hour of normalcy with my daughter.

It’s like I fucking said. To be the man Mia needs, I’ll have to dismantle the entire life I’ve built.

“Fuck!” The word explodes out of me.

Mia startles in my arms, her face scrunching up, ready to cry.

Damn it. Be better!

“Shhh, shhh,” I soothe her automatically, rocking her gently, my heart pounding with a mixture of fury and… surprisingly little panic about the money. The dominant feeling is anger. Anger that my attempt to connect with my daughter is being twisted into tabloid fodder. Anger that investors are reacting like skittish sheep. Anger at Luca’s barely concealed ‘I told you so’ tone.

I hit the mute button on my phone.

“Guess I should have listened to your advice about not appearing in public with Mia,” I say tightly, looking directly at Sabrina now. Her face is a mask of professional concern, but I see the underlying ‘I warned you’ in her eyes too. “But she’s my daughter, damn it. I want her to have a normal life. Or as normal as possible.”

“So much for your ingenious Clark Kent disguise,” she mutters, then sighs. “Nothing involving you will ever be truly normal, Leo. You know that. This,” she gestures vaguely between me, Mia, and the phone still pressed to my ear, “requires strategy. Careful management. Which is literallymy job.”

She’s right. This isn’t just personal anymore. It’s professional. The leak, the investor panic… it falls squarely into her court now.

“You there, bro?” Luca asks.

I unmute the phone.

“Luca,” I tell him, my voice cold, decisive. “Get Ms. Taylor everything on the Accel Partners withdrawal and the new Page Six article. And line up calls with our top five Limited Partners. Sabrina’s handling the response strategy.”

I hang up before Luca can argue, dropping the phone onto the changing table. I look at Sabrina, meeting her wide, slightly stunned gaze.

“Well,” I say, forcing a grim smile. “Looks like your PR campaign just got a whole lot more complicated. And personal.”

No thanks to me.

“Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s get to work.”

I want to be with her and Mia.

I really do. And while I don’t care all that much for the money (or so I tell myself, anyway), I’m not ready to dismantle my entire life.

Not yet.

26

Sabrina

Sunrise over Central Park is spectacular. The pinks and reds reflecting off the glass towers are beautiful. Even when viewed through the filter of sleep deprivation and that cocktail of endorphins still swirling through my veins from last night’s…encounter… not to mention the vague panic currently sitting somewhere deep in my gut.

I woke up an hour ago in the guest suite. Alone. Which was both a relief and, confusingly, a disappointment. After the kiss, after the sex against the window...

God, did that really happen?

Yes. Yes it did.

And I’d retreated. Pulled away emotionally the second the physical intensity subsided. Slammed the door shut on that moment of connection, on the terrifying vulnerability he’d coaxed out of me.

It was pure self-preservation. A reflex honed by years of expecting the other shoe to drop, expecting charm to curdle into indifference, expecting men like Leo to leave.

He’s not father material, the familiar refrain screamed in my head, even as my body hummed with the memory of his touch.He’ll disappear. Protect yourself. Protect Mia.

So I pulled back. Built the wall brick by brick. And watched his face shutter, his own vulnerability vanish, replaced by that familiar guarded mask.

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