Page 17 of Daddy's Accidental Babies

He didn’t know he had two sons. He didn’t know he’d left more than just a memory behind. And now, with headlines spinning and our names tied together in the press, the risk of someone else figuring it out before he did was too high to ignore.

And what would my father think?

“Stay away from me, Dominic.” I backed away one step, trying to keep him from touching me. His touch did things to me, things I wanted him to do to me, but things that would bring my walls crashing down faster than I could stop them.

His voice dropped low and rumbled through his chest as he took a step closer. “Stop lying to yourself.”

I turned, grabbed the door handle, and pulled the door open. My throat was too tight to speak.

“Savannah.”

My heels snapped on the tile as I walked back to my office, echoing down the hallway. I didn’t answer the intern who tried to hand me a folder. I slammed the door behind me and stood there for a long moment, staring at the clean surface of my desk hoping it would clear my mind. But I was trapped in a loop where my worst fears imaginable came to be reality. What if I lost everything—the job, my father, and my boys?

I crossed the room and dropped into my desk chair, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes. Angry tears burned at the edges, but I refused to let them fall. I pulled my phone out, desperate to redirect my brain, but the screen only made things worse. There it was again—another headline, this time from a fashion gossip blog closely tied to market research trends.

Investor’s New Flame? Raven & Rhodes Strategist Linked to Billionaire Merger Partner

My photo was beneath it—a laugh caught mid-frame, angled toward Dominic like we were flirting. It was a candid, probably snapped during the Fashion Week planning session by one of the interns. It wasn’t like we had press in that meeting, so this was a personal shot. It was great for the company. Great for optics.

But not for me.

I swallowed hard and locked my phone. My chest hurt. If this got back to Dad—and it would—it wouldn’t be the headline that unraveled me. It would be the questions, the context, the timeline. There wasn’t a safe path through this for me or my sons, and not for the man whose name would be tied to mine in every headline from here on out.

My father had been Dominic’s best friend for years, ever since Dominic donated to his very first political campaign. He trusted Dominic, respected him. And now, with another campaign underway and every detail of our lives under a microscope, this wasn’t just a personal risk. It was political.

A headline like this wouldn’t stay in the gossip columns. It would spiral. People would dig. And if anyone uncovered the truth about Leo and Cal—if anyone figured out that the candidate’s daughter quietly had twins with the man now headlining every business blog in the country—Dad’s campaign would implode.

I could lose everything. And worse, so could he.

8

DOMINIC

Iarrived late, but not enough to piss anyone off. I was trying to make an entrance after hearing some very good news. The offices at Raven & Rhodes were buzzing with energy. Phones were ringing constantly. Assistants were darting between glass doors with a sense of urgency. Vanessa met me at the elevator with a smile that was equal parts smug and victorious.

“Morning, Mr. Knight,” she said, her voice clipped and bright as she stepped directly into my path and handed me a cup of coffee.

“You seem pleased,” I replied, adjusting my cufflinks as I glanced past her to the chaos spilling out from the conference wing. I took the cup and nodded in the general direction I was headed as I said, “Walk with me.”

She angled her phone toward me, the screen already pulled up. “We went viral,” she said, and her eyes gleamed with triumph as she watched my face for a reaction.

The headline on the small screen showed a blurry image of me and Savannah leaving the investor lounge. The article mentioned our strategic “affair,” a corporate power couple, and the merger made in branding heaven. I scanned it quickly,catching the pull quotes. Public sentiment was overwhelmingly positive. For the first time in weeks, the press had something better to talk about than my asset acquisitions and offshore holdings.

“I take it the numbers are good,” I said, handing the phone back without breaking stride. We moved quickly toward the conference room where the group was probably waiting, and I couldn’t wait to hear their thoughts.

“Savannah’s ad campaign hit a record high overnight,” she said with a knowing nod. “Click-through rates are up, audience sentiment is trending, and engagement on our investor landing page and socials is through the roof.”

I grunted in approval and kept pace. “And your pitch?” I asked, keeping my tone level as we turned the corner and the open door came into view.

Vanessa didn’t hesitate. “We lean in—a full spread inLuxe Quarterly. We go with a clean editorial style that includes minimal text, featuring you and Savannah looking powerful and impossible to ignore. The public wants a first look. Let’s give it to them,” she said, already pulling up a sample layout on her tablet, which she’d been cradling under her arm. Her finger started flicking, but I didn’t even pause to think.

“Let’s do it,” I said, nodding to a passing intern who nearly dropped a stack of folders. I almost snorted with laughter at the effect I had on women, but thought better of it. Savannah was right. I had to really rebrand my entire image, and that meant growing up and being more mature.

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed slightly as she studied my face. “That easy?” she asked, one brow lifting in mild surprise.

“Why not? You think I mind getting my picture taken with the most competent woman in this building?” I asked, pausing just long enough to hold her gaze.

“Competent?” she echoed, tilting her head as if testing the word on her tongue.

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