Page 125 of Sexting the Billionaire

When I open the door, he smiles—confident, at ease in a way I haven’t seen in years.

“Hey,” he says, holding up the box. “Special delivery. Fresh from the printer.”

I take the package and blink when I read the title on the glossy hardcover:

“Power, Pattern, and Protection: The Legal Future of Fashion.”

“You wrote a book?”

He shrugs. “Co-authored. It’s part legal framework, part industry think-piece. You’re in chapter six.”

“Me?”

He nods. “You redefined how independent designers negotiate supply-chain clauses, Cass. Your stance with Levesque? That case study’s already being taught at Parsons.”

I flip to the chapter—my name bold at the top, alongside a sharp, insightful breakdown of how I structured my business. It’s smart, respectful. Not fawning, not bitter. Justclear-eyed and earned.

“Cam, this is... actually kind of badass.”

“You made it easy to write,” he says, then adds, almost shyly, “I mentioned you in the acknowledgments. Hope that’s okay.”

"Don't thank me for doing my job," he says with a genuine smile. "Though I should thank you for giving me the kick I needed to find it. Speaking of which—" He peers around me. "How's the little one?"

"Sleeping, finally. Want to see her? She's in my office."

He follows me inside, keeping a respectful distance as he peeks into the bassinet. "She looks like both of you somehow. That's wickedly unfair genetic distribution."

I laugh. "Roman says the same thing, but I think she has his eyes."

"Poor kid's going to break hearts." Camden steps back. "Listen, I can't stay. Meeting Arielle for lunch. But I wanted to drop that off, and also—" He pulls an envelope from his pocket. "This came to the old apartment. Post office is still forwarding some of your mail."

I take the envelope, recognizing the letterhead of a law firm I don't know. "Thanks for bringing it by."

After Camden leaves, I open the letter while checking on Harmony. It's from Sterling Kade’s attorneys, requesting a meeting. My stomach tightens with apprehension. Roman's relationship with his father has been strained but civil since Harmony's birth. Sterling had sent an extravagant gift when she was born but had yet to visit his granddaughter in person. What could he want now?

The sound of the front door opening announces Roman's arrival. He appears in the doorway of my office, looking tired but happy. "There they are," he says softly, his entire demeanor softening as he enters the room.

He kisses me first, then leans down to press his lips to Harmony's forehead. "How was your day?"

I hesitate, then hand him the letter. His expression darkens as he reads it, jaw tightening.

"Do you know what this is about?" I ask quietly.

"No." He sets the letter aside. "But I'll call him. Whatever it is, we'll handle it together.”

The next day,Roman arranges a meeting with his father at his office. I insist on accompanying him, bringing Harmony with us. If Sterling Kade wanted to discuss something affecting our family, he would face all of us.

Sterling’s executive assistant looks startled when we arrive with a baby, but ushers us in immediately. He stands as we enter, his eyes immediately going to the infant carrier in Roman's hand.

"You brought her." There's an unfamiliar note in Sterling’s voice—something almost like vulnerability.

"This concerns our family," Roman says evenly. "Harmony is part of that family."

Sterling nods, then gestures to the seating area rather than the formal conference table. As we settle, he clears his throat.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking since she was born," he begins, nodding toward Harmony. "About legacy. About what actually matters."

Roman's posture remains rigid. "And what have you concluded?"

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