Page 16 of One Baddie for Three Daddies

Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly not thrilled with the idea. “You want to sabotage her?”

“Not sabotage,” I correct. “Just… find a reason. Make it seem like a natural decision.”

He furrows his brow. “Liam, that’s risky. What if she catches on? Or worse, what if her company finds out and it blows back on us?”

I grit my teeth. “We’re resourceful. We can be subtle about it. Find some minor mistake in her work, blow it up just enough.”

Alex shakes his head slowly clearly weighing the options. “Even if we could pull that off without raising suspicions, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s good at what she does. We both saw her plans; they’re fucking solid.”

I hate how logical he is sometimes. “So, what do you suggest then? Just keep her around and pretend everything’s fine?” My words linger in the air between us as I watch him thinking it over.

Alex finally sighs, breaking the tense silence between us. “Look, man, we shouldn’t make any decisions right away. Let’s take the night to think about it.”

I grunt, not entirely sold on the idea but knowing he’s right. “Fine. We’ll think about it.”

We both agree to sleep on it, though my mind races with thoughts of Bianca and James. How could things get so messed up so quickly?

Alex claps me on the shoulder, a reassuring gesture that I find more annoying than comforting. “We’ll figure it out, Liam. We always do.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, pushing off the table and heading towards the door. “Just hope we don’t regret this.”

Alex chuckles softly. “Regret is for people who don’t take risks. And you know we’re all about risks.”

I can’t help but smirk at that. He’s right—calculated risks have always been our game.

We walk out of the office and into what will soon be the lobby, our footsteps echoing throughout the empty building. The smell of fresh coffee from the nearby café mingles with the scent of new carpet.

“So,” Alex says as we step outside into the crisp San Diego air, “what’s our plan for tonight? Drown our confusion in whiskey?”

I shake my head, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Not tonight. Got too much on my mind.”

He raises an eyebrow, his usual playful glint dimmed by concern. “You sure? Sometimes a little distraction helps clear things up.”

“I’m sure,” I say firmly. “I need a clear head to think this through.”

“Alright,” he says, not pushing further. “But you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

We part ways, both of us getting into our cars. Thirty minutes later, I reach my apartment building and punch in the code. The door clicks open, and I step inside.

As I ride the elevator up to my floor, I replay our conversation over and over in my mind, trying to find some angle that makes sense.

When I finally get inside my apartment, it closes in, feeling both empty and suffocating at the same time. Dropping onto the couch, I stare at the ceiling.

“Think about it,” Alex had said.

Yeah, easier said than done.

I lay and close my eyes, willing myself to find some clarity before morning comes.

9

BIANCA

Ipull up to my apartment, my nerves on edge from the shitstorm my day has been thrust into. My fingers tap the steering wheel as I sit in the car for a moment, trying to steady my breath. It’s not working. I take a deep breath and get out, the slam of the car door echoing in the parking lot. I head inside, thinking a glass of wine and a call to Aliyah is the only thing that might save me from spiraling.

Once inside, I kick off my heels and pour a generous glass of Chardonnay. The familiar scent of oak and fruit fills my nose as I take a sip and dial Aliyah's number.

"Hey sis, what’s up?" Aliyah answers on the second ring, her voice bright and full of energy.

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