Page 129 of Bastian

Now, my baby will be the second.

Already making history, my little tyrant.

Looking around the nursery, I can’t help but smile.

Ellaiza chose the theme, although her father had to convince her that we shouldn’t pick pink for the color palette because we still don’t know the sex of the baby. I honestly could care less if it’s a boy or a girl, and I know Sebastian feels the same way, but deep down, I worry how Ella will feel if she gets her wish.

Will she remain excited, or will she feel left out, or as if she’s being replaced by another girl? Will she feel like the attention is all on her baby sister?

But that’s nonsense because I know my girl, and her heart is pure. Without meeting this baby, she already loves her or him so much.

When my stomach growls in hunger, I sigh. I am craving nothing healthy. I pick up my phone from the white wooden nightstand next to me and text Sebastian.

Me: Your spawn is in the mood for chocolate.

I don’t expect him to immediately reply, but then I see the ‘seen receipt’ and the three dots.

The man is supposed to be in his first press conference since the shooting, which is being held here in the press room. He has a message to convey to the country, and Baron, his press secretary suggested it was time.

I am so proud of Sebastian.

So damn proud for fighting for his life and coming out stronger than ever.

There’s a fire inside his eyes now that didn’t burn quite as brightly as it does now.

The asshole who thought he could snuff that out of him was severely mistaken, and I hope karma gets his ass before Sebastian does.

No, wait.

I hope the bloodthirsty demon that lives inside of Sebastian gets the bastard and makes him regret ever thinking he could get away with hurting the President of the United States. The man that is my heart.

The immediate reply comes through. Now before you start cringing at Sebastian’s contact name on my phone, you should know I had no say in the matter. The tyrant did that himself, and every time I change it… he manages to change it right back to Daddy. It has been a long and tedious battle, and I gave up because the man is determined to take over my life, and I am gladly letting him.

Daddy: White or dark chocolate?

Gross.

The thought of eating white chocolate has me wanting to throw up again.

Me: Neither. Who even likes dark chocolate?

Daddy: I and 34% of the population.

Of course, he would love that god-awful taste. He loves pineapple on pizza, after all.

Me: You’re one odd man, Sebastian.

Me: Milk chocolate…

Daddy: What is the magic word?

Me: Fucking now, Sebastian.

Daddy: No. That’s not quite it.

With a smile on my face, I laugh at the absurdity of our text conversations lately. It goes from us sending strange facts about foods, the baby’s nursery décor, and him flooding my phone with love quotes. The gigantic sap. Opening the camera app, I snap a quick selfie of me flipping the man off and send it to him.

Daddy: Fuck, you are perfect.

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