Page 115 of Sexting the Billionaire

My phone buzzes with a text from Cassie:

How was therapy? Still meeting Olivia and me at the Murray Hill property at 4?

I smile as I slide into the back of the waiting car. Three weeks into our house search, and we're still struggling to find the perfect balance between my preference for modern minimalism and Cassie's love of character and quirk. Today's property—a brownstone with recent updates—is Olivia's suggestion, an attempt at compromise.

Therapy was good. Uncomfortable, but good. I’m going to see my dad at his office first but see you at 4.

I hesitate, then add:

I love you.

It still feels new, this freedom to express emotion without calculation. Cassie has broken through defenses I didn't even realize I'd built, teaching me that vulnerability isn't weakness but its own kind of strength.

Her response is immediate:

Love you too. Remember: open mind, open heart. Olivia says this could be The One.

I chuckle, tucking away my phone. Olivia's enthusiasm for our house search has transformed the process from business transaction to something approaching a spiritual quest. Her insistence on "house energy" and "flow harmonics" would be irritating if she weren't so genuinely invested in our happiness.

Our happiness. The phrase still catches me by surprise. Four months ago, I was Roman Kade, bachelor CEO, married toElysian and content with that singular commitment. Now I'm choosing nursery colors and interviewing pediatricians, creating a life I never imagined wanting.

The airin my dad’s office still as suffocating as it always was..

He doesn’t stand when I walk in. Just looks up from whatever quarterly report he’s pretending to be interested in and folds his hands like he’s about to deliver a verdict.

“You’re late.”

I let the jab roll off me.Of course he opens with a test.

“I’m not here to talk about timelines.”

He arches a brow. “Then what?”

“Cassie’s pregnant.”

The words land heavier than I expected. Even out loud, they still feel fragile. But right.

Sterling leans back in his leather chair, expression unreadable.

“And this is… good news?”

“It’s the best news I’ve ever had.”

He scoffs. Actually scoffs.

“You’re serious.”

“You throw away a career’s worth of discipline for a woman who came into your life through work and now you’re what? Playing house? Popping out a family? You think the board won’t use this against you?”

“Let them,” I say. “I’m not living my life around what they might think.”

Sterling narrows his eyes. “And what happens when she leaves? When the fantasy fades? When the pressure of being you cracks her open the way it did Catherine?”

His words land like broken glass—but they don’t cut like they used to.

“Then I’ll show up. Every day. The way you never did.”

“Because I’d rather be the man who tries too hard than the one who hides behind numbers and titles while everyone else does the bleeding.”

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