Page 50 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

And maybe, just maybe, for me too.

The camera crews eat it up.

I can practically feel the satisfaction rolling off the producers on the other side of the glass.

But all I can focus on is Sophie. Still standing. Still watching. Still trying not to fall apart in front of the whole fucking world.

And I’ve never wanted to reach across that distance and touch her more than I do right now.

I glance down, then back into the lens. My voice drops just a little, but it doesn’t waver.

“I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ve lived a life that was reckless, loud, selfish. But when everything was stripped away, the money, the distractions, I had to figure out who the hell I really was. And what I realized is this. When I care, I don’t back down. I don’t run.”

I lean forward slightly, elbows on my knees, raw honesty thick in every syllable.

“You want to know why I’m not a liability? Because I’ve already lost everything once. And I survived. Now, I’ve gotsomething to fight for. And I won’t let go of it, not for scandal, not for legacy, not for fear.”

I pause, then decide to go for broke. “I’m not asking for blind trust. I’m asking for a chance to prove I’m worth betting on. Not because I’ve earned it yet, but because I finally understand what it means to lose something that matters. And I’m not willing to let that happen again.”

A moment of silence.

The camera cuts. Crew whispers fill the studio. A soft word echoes. “Damn.”

Outside the frame, Sophie exhales like she’s been holding her breath the entire time.

I step off the platform, every muscle tight from the restraint it took to stay composed under the lights.

Sophie’s already there waiting for me, holding out a water bottle, a peace offering. Her other hand is fisted by her side, nails digging into her palm.

We don’t speak at first. The silence stretches, thick and electric.

“That was…” Her voice is lower, not her usual clipped PR tone. “That was honest.”

I take the bottle and let our fingers brush, just briefly.

Her touch is cool, but it sends a flare of heat up my arm.

“I wasn’t doing it for the cameras. Or the investors.”

Her gaze lifts to mine. Searching. Exposed.

I don’t say it’s for her. I don’t have to.

Sophie’s phone dings. She glances down, skims it, and raises a brow.

“Valentino says, and I quote, ‘That didn’t sound rehearsed. It sounded real. Damn good job. You’re not a total embarrassment today.’”

I snort. “High praise.”

Then another text comes through.

It's dad. Short. Brutal.

A forwarded message.

He might be immature, but he’s growing. We’re still in.

Sophie looks up. “That was from one of the holdout investors.”

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