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Billionaire Baby Daddy

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“Yes, sir, but don't say I didn't warn you. When it all hits the fan, don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Understood, Matt, loud and clear.”

“I'll update you if come up with any new dirt on Savage.”

“Do that. Enjoy your Saturday.”

“It's just another working day for me, Sinclair. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Just keep me posted,” I added.

“Will do.”

I put the phone down and stared at the wall in silence. Then I stared at the whiskey bottle for a good long while. I was seriously considering getting drunk, even at that hour in the morning. It seemed like the only effective escape from the horrible feelings plaguing me, the confusion I was wrestling with.

But then, clear as a bell, I heard Colonel Tanaka's voice in my head again.

“Drowning oneself in alcohol is the way of cowards, of the weak. The truly strong face their challenges and fears with a clear mind and a sword in hand.”

He was right. I was right, rather. I put the bottle to the side and called up my Muay Thai instructor.

“Mr. Sinclair?” he said as he answered his phone. “Is something wrong?”

“I want another sparring session,” I said.

“Before next week? What day?”

“Now,” I responded.

“Right now? But we just had one. You were exhausted.”

“Not exhausted enough. I want to get back in the ring.”

“Umm. All right. But don't you think you're pushing yourself a bit too hard?”

“Who ever achieved anything by not pushing themselves past their limits?”

“Good poi

nt. Luckily I stopped on the way home to grab a coffee, so I'm not far away. I'll turn around. Wrap your hands, get your gloves on, and warm yourself up. I'll see you in your gym in 15 minutes. I'm warning you, I'm not gonna go easy on you.”

“And, that's exactly how I want it. Exactly how I want it.”

***

Come Monday morning, I was at work an hour before everyone else. This was partly because there was a lot I needed to get done, but also because I wanted to be there when Lilah walked in. You see, I'd locked her office—I'd blame it on a mistake made by the cleaning lady, but she wouldn't be able to avoid me. She'd have to come to me to get the master key. Then she'd have to face me, after what she'd done behind my back.

I wanted to see if she would wear the guilt on her face like a scar or cover it up completely, hide it with a sweet smile, and pretend as if nothing had happened. Either way, I wanted to look her in the eye and see what was there for myself. No more of the games, hiding, or avoiding one another.

I waited patiently as the clock struck the hour, knowing she had to be in the building. Probably coming up in the elevator. I waited for her to discover that her door was locked and go to my secretary to ask about it. Then she’d be told that she'd have to come into my office and speak to me about getting the key.

Then, there it was: a knock on my door. My pulse quickened.

“Come in,” I called out.

She walked through the door. I locked a cool stare with her eyes and held it.

“Lilah,” I said nonchalantly, “I hope you had a good weekend.”



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