Page 51 of The Forbidden Billionaire Attorney

The envelope with the gender results feels like a brick in my purse as I tap my foot, waiting for Amelie outside the bistro in West Hollywood. Since Adrian’s still in his meeting and I have a couple of hours to spare, I arranged a late lunch with Amelie before heading to Adrian’s place.

My phone’s battery icon flashes red, a pathetic 2% staring back at me—a fitting metaphor for my patience level at this point.

“Come on, Amelie,” I mutter under my breath, flicking my gaze across the street to kill time.

And that’s when I see him—Leo. He’s all cozy with a slick-suited guy at an outdoor café, looking more like they’re plotting a bank heist than enjoying lunch. Curiosity nips at me, replacing my impatience. I debate whether to stroll over and play the “fancy seeing you here” card, but my gut tells me to play it cool. So, discretion wins.

I slip into a seat behind them, my own personal stakeout spot, and angle my ear toward their murmurs. They’re speaking in those hushed tones reserved for secrets or surprise parties—and knowing Leo, this isn’t about cake and balloons.

“Once we pin the leak on Cole & Sterling, the merger is as good as ours,” Suit Guy whispers, his voice a low hum of conspiracy. “You’ll have your partner position guaranteed.”

“Equal partnership?” Leo clarifies, his voice tinged with the kind of caution you’d use picking up a snake.

“Absolutely,” Suit Guy assures. “At our firm, we’re all equal partners.”

My heart kicks against my ribs, a frantic Morse code confirming my suspicions. Leo’s not just behind the leaks; he’s orchestrating a corporate coup. The baby flip-flops inside me, either in agreement or because it’s sick of the cappuccino fumes wafting from the café.

My thumb hovers over Adrian’s name in my contacts, the air around me thick with espresso and intrigue. I shoot off a text, trying to sound as casual as a cucumber in sunglasses: “Leo with you today?”

The reply is immediate just as my phone drops down to 1%, “Nope, he’s meeting with his wife today to work out all the marriage stuff.” Marriage stuff, my left foot.

“Of course,” I mutter under my breath, fingers still itching for proof.

Just as I’m about to go to my voice notes app and hit record, the battery icon blinks its final, pathetic goodbye before the screen plunges into darkness.

“Seriously?” I whisper-yell at the inanimate traitor in my hand.

Defeated tech in pocket, I’m stuck in my seat like gum, the corners of my eyes gluing themselves to Leo and his suit-clad sidekick. Their handshake seals whatever devilish deal they’ve cooked up just as Amelie waltzesin.

“Isa—”

“Shh!” I cut her off with a finger to my lips, my eyes screaming volumes of “sit down and zip it”. She plops beside me, all silent questions and eyebrows that are practically reaching her hairline.

Once Leo and Mr. Suit have vanished like magicians after a trick, Amelie turns to me. “Okay, spill. What’s the 411 on this situation?”

“That’s Leo, Adrian’s partner. He’s been sketchier than a two-dollar bill lately,” I start, keeping my voice low, “said he was patching things up with his wife. But Adrian just confirmed he’s not where he claimed to be, and I just caught him red-handed making deals that smell like trouble.”

“Wow,” she says, her face mirroring the shock waves rippling through me. “And here we thought the most drama we’d have today was finding out if you’re having a mini-you or a mini-Adrian.”

“Life’s full of surprises,” I say, but really, this is one plot twist I could have done without.

Amelie’s nod is slow, thoughtful. “This all makes sense, if you think about it. Adrian wouldn’t suspect a thing if Leo played the ‘troubled marriage’ card,” she muses, her fork idly pushing around the remnants of her salad. “Nobody wants to meddle in someone else’s relationship mess.”

“Exactly,” I agree, tapping my fingers on the table, impatient and restless. The envelope with the gender reveal sits like a hot potato in my purse. I’ll share it with Adrian later, along with this whole twisted saga. “I’m seeing Adrian after work to find out if we’re pink or blue brigade. That’s when I’ll drop the bomb about Leo.”

“Will he believe you, though?” Amelie’s eyes are saucers of concern, scanning my face for doubt. “If he and Leo are partners, he may have a difficult time without tangible proof.”

I shrug, trying to appear more confident than I feel. Adrian didn’t want to believe that someone within the firm would leak those financial documents either. Amelie may have a point.

“Who knows? But staying silent isn’t my style. Especially not with stakes this high.”

“True. You’ve never been one to zip it and sit pretty.” She smirks, but there’s an edge of admiration there. I’d preen at the compliment if I weren’t so wound up. “And how exactly do you plan to prove all this?” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Working on that bit.” I glance across the now-empty street where Leo’s duplicity had unfolded. “Gotta catch him with his hand in the cookie jar, don’t I?”

“Or any jar at this point,” she quips, raising her coffee cup as if toasting to my future detective endeavors.

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Nothing like a side of corporate espionage with your baby news, right?”

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