Page 76 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

That one question cuts deeper than any lecture ever could.

Because he’s not yelling. Not scolding. Just looking at me the way no one else does anymore.

And it stings more than I expect.

I’m used to silence. To Dad watching me sink without throwing a line, as if struggle were a rite of passage. Like independence was only worth something if I earned it alone.

But Denver… he’s never looked at me like I’m fragile.

Until now.

Denver’s expression softens. “I’m not trying to scare you. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t need saving.” But it sounds less convincing than I want it to.

He doesn’t argue. Just pushes off the table. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re falling and don’t even see it.”

“Maybe I’m not falling. Maybe I’m just finally letting someone in.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Then, as I pass him at the door, he says quietly, “Just be sure it’s someone who won’t let you break.”

And somehow, that scares me more than anything else he could’ve said.

By the time I make it home, the weight of the day is pressing behind my eyes.

I toss off my heels, drop my bag by the door, and barely have time to unbutton my blazer before Alessio speaks from the kitchen.

“I’ve been thinking.” His tone is suspiciously casual.

“That sounds dangerous.” I head for the kitchen.

“I’m serious, Soph.” He shifts, suddenly alert. “I want to get a job.”

I pause mid-step. “A job?”

He grins. “Yeah. You know, that thing where you show up, do stuff, and get paid?”

I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “I’m aware of the concept. What kind of job are we talking about, here? Social media influencer? TikTok chef? Professional heartbreaker?”

He’s serious, leaning casually against the counter, arms folded. But there’s something in his posture, a quiet determination I haven’t seen before.

He shrugs, a grin teasing at the corners of his mouth. “Bartending.”

I blink again. “You want to be a bartender…”

“At Nikolai’s club.”

And just like that, the air changes.

“You're kidding. You think the best place for you right now is behind a bar at a Bratva-owned club?”

He sits forward. “It’s legit. Clean. He’s got guys watching the place, and with that deal that's been made with your father, I’m protected. It’s not shady, Soph. I just… I want to do something that’s mine.”

I stare at him, trying to gauge how serious this is.

He runs a hand through his hair and stands, moving closer. “I’m not trying to screw things up. I’m trying to build something for once. I don’t want to be the guy you have to manage in your off-hours. I want to pull my own weight.”

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