Page 109 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

Denver takes a long sip of his drink, then sets it down with more weight than necessary, the glass thudding softly againstthe wood as his jaw tightens, the words forming long before he says them.

“Look, man. I’m not going to give you some big brother ultimatum. But this isn’t a fling. This is her heart. If you break it—”

“I know,” I say firmly. “I won’t.”

He watches me for a long moment, then nods once. “Make sure you don’t. Because she’s always been the strong one. But this? Loving someone? That’s the one place she’s vulnerable.”

***

Later that night, I walk home alone. The city is quieter than usual, or maybe it’s just that my head is too loud.

Denver’s words echo in my head, soft at first, then louder, heavier, thudding in my chest with every step I take. Not a threat. Not a warning. Just truth, sharp and unavoidable.

I love her. That part isn’t in question. I knew it the second I let her all the way in.

But now the stakes feel heavier. Bigger. Her trust. Her career. The future she’s built with her own blood and grit.

I wonder if I’m enough. If I can be the man she needs when the world knows me as everything she swore she’d never want.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m not sure of the answer.

When I reach the apartment, the hallway is dark and still. Too still.

I slide my key into the lock, but something catches my eye just beneath me on the door.

A single sheet of paper, stark white against the hardwood floor.

I bend down and pick it up.

A single sentence, typed in all caps, stares up at me.

THE WOMEN YOU LOVE WILL SUFFER NEXT.

My blood runs cold.

25

SOPHIE

The city’s just starting to yawn awake when I slip out the door, hoodie pulled low, sunglasses shielding my puffy eyes. My leggings are tucked into scuffed sneakers, and my hair’s scraped into a bun that’s doing its best impression of a bird’s nest.

Still, I feel light, rumpled, glowing, and wrapped in the kind of satisfaction that lingers long after the night ends.

There’s a buzz under my skin, residual and electric. The kind that only comes after a night like the one we had. Alessio, all soft hands and whispered promises. That quiet confession, tangled in sheets and moonlight.

For once, I don’t feel like I’m sprinting toward something. Or away. I’m just… here.

I head to the corner café for my usual, oat milk latte, double shot, and something sweet to take back for Alessio. A reward for being the kind of man I didn’t know I needed until he showed up in my life like a wrecking ball in designer jeans.

I’m scrolling through my notes for the merger call, mentally rehearsing my pitch, when I hear it.

Laughter. Familiar. Sharp.

I glance up just in time to see them, two women standing in line ahead of me at the café, chatting loudly like the room isn’t already filled with caffeine-deprived humans trying to keep it together.

I don’t know their names. I don’t have to.

They’re exactly the type who used to orbit around him, perfect bodies, perfect blowouts, that effortless kind of mean that always seems rehearsed.

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