Page 65 of Secret Baby for Dr. Billionaire

“When did you get back?” I asked. I didn’t want to let him in just yet. I wanted to know what he needed first. Ben wasn’t home yet, and my senses told me to keep my guard up.

“Just landed four hours ago.” He stretched out his arm against the door frame to balance his swaying body.

“Why are you drunk?” I asked, my forehead scrunching from the smell. The front of his shirt was drenched in sweat, and so were his armpits. His chin was left unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, and his sandy hair glinted with sweat in the light of my penthouse.

“What?” he snapped. “Don’t look at me like that. The guys and I had a few drinks when we landed.”

“A few drinks? You’re wasted, and it’s not even nine o’clock.”

“You need to loosen up. Live a little.” He looked at me with contempt, as if drinking this early was the new cool thing, and I wasn’t informed.

“You know,” he added, pointing an accusing finger to my face. “Ever since you had that baby, you’ve never gone out with me.”

“That baby’s name is Sofi.” I was starting to get irritated by how he talked to me. “And it’s called responsibility, Frankie.”

“What fucking ever, Chloe. I came here to see you and Sofi.”

“I don’t think it’s wise that you see her. You smell like a fucking bar.” That and he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t want him to end up doing or saying something he’d regret when he was sober.

“She wouldn’t mind. She’s a child. She won’t remember.”

“Still.” Alarm bells rang in my head as my visitor’s eyes grew dark, and he sneered at me, taking a step forward.

“Aren’t you going to let me in, Chloe?” Frankie’s tone was sinister, and it made my skin crawl. Yet, I tried not to look freaked out. The last thing Frankie needed was to see that he had gotten to me.

“I think you should go home. Get some rest, then we can talk tomorrow when you’re sober.” I forced a smile, slowly trying to shut the door.

“I’m at home. You know I love you, right, baby? I loved you before you met your child’s father. I was there for you when he wasn’t. I am here for you now.”

“I know, Frankie. And I’m thankful for what you—”

“So why thefuckdidn’t you choose me, huh?” he hissed through gritted teeth, and he slammed his fist on the door just by my face, making me flinch.

Sofi. I needed to protect Sofi. I needed to knock some sense into this man, if possible. No one would hear us if I screamed, and my phone was in the living room. If I ran, he’d run to get me. Then he’d get to Sofi. No. That was not going to happen.

“Frankie. You’re not thinking straight right now—”

“Is it because he fucks yousogood? Why don’t you give me a chance, huh? I’m better than he is. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

My heart was in my throat as Frankie pushed the door open with little effort.

I stumbled back, but he was advancing toward me before I could get my balance. His rough hands grabbed my waist, and I tried to push them away. But he was a strong man.

I walked backward, hoping that it would give me a chance to free myself from his grip. But it was a mistake because he only dragged his feet forward as I struggled to step back. And I found myself being cornered against the kitchen counter, my ass hitting the marble countertop.

“Frankie!” I pleaded, trying to push him away from me. But he had buried his face in my neck and positioned his knees between my legs, forcing them open. Thankfully, I wore denim jeans at work, the thick material protecting me from him.

Tears pooled in my eyes, and Frankie started to unbutton my blouse. I thrashed against him, his lips still sucking my neck and biting my skin.

“Come here.” I didn’t realize my breathing had gotten labored, and my chest tightened. I craned my neck and tried to intake air that didn’t reek of alcohol and sweat. A tear rolled down my cheeks when I saw Sofi, who had her full attention on the TV.

At least she was safe. Better me than her.

“No, let go. Frankie, please.” But he didn’t stop. It was as if he didn’t even hear me begging him to stop. The adrenaline in my body was the only thing keeping me upright. My hands shook, and my knees went weak as he inserted his hand in my top, cupping a breast with his calloused palm.

Frankie was thrown off of me so unexpectedly that I tripped forward from the sudden motion. But thankfully, I gathered myself up, sobbing in relief as I buttoned back my shirt.

Through blurry vision, I saw Ben throw a punch that sent Frankie to the floor. The impact made him jerk his head to the side. Ben raised his fist again, wanting to hit him. But with the bruise growing on the side of Frankie’s face and the blood running from his nose, it was clear he wouldn’t be able to take it.

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