Page 54 of The Grumpy Billionaire Baby Daddy

My head swirls, her words swirling along with it. Her voice fades to the background. This isn't happening. It wasn't meant to turn out this way.

"Answer me." Her voice draws me back.

I tilt my head, glaring at her.

"What?"

"Don't make me say it twice. Do you love her?"

I blink. Love? That's absurd. What has love got to do with having a baby mama?

"Stop being absurd, Eva."

If Eva's going to listen to me, I have to find another way. Fighting with her will yield nothing but resistance. As a business expert, I've learned the art of negotiation finely. Let's see what works.

"Taking it down will be in the best interest of the both of us, Eva."

Maybe I can get her to think about a future with me as a reason to take it down.

She leans back again, bringing her hand to her chin. Now's my chance.

"I want to marry you. But ruining my image will only make your father reject me. And then we won't be able to get married any longer. Don't you see it?" I walk closer to her sofa, leaning in. "You're hurting yourself too."

Her gaze flickers. Did it work? She clears her throat, and her lips part as she stares at me. Our faces are at close range. I think I got through to her.

"Think about it, Eva."

I straighten and turn to leave, but not without giving her a piercing stare. The kind that I've often used to hypnotize any woman. It always works. Finally, I walk out in slow motion, the feel of her eyes boring holes in my back. I have to get back to Fiona and figure out what to do next.

A thought crosses my mind. She said she had to make a decision on her own. My heart skips a beat. What did she mean? What if… No, that's impossible. I dash outside the building and into my car, speeding off. I should be home in about fifteen minutes. My heart drops once I drive out of the Davidson Mansion and onto the road. Traffic.

It makes my stomach tie in knots, probably more than all the phone calls coming in. Today's the third worst day of my life. The first was with the seniors in boarding school, and the second was when Dad died. The horns are loud, and I grimace, rubbing my temple. At this rate, I won't make it home on time. Movement is slow, and the cars crawl forward at intervals. Why's it so hot in here? I glare at the car AC, resisting the urge to smash it.

Finally, the gridlock clears out. I sigh in relief, hitting the pedal and speeding off.

Thankfully, all the traffic lights are on green as I speed past. Everything moves past me fast, from the trees to the houses, to the ice cream shops, to the cycling kids, to the skating teenagers.

As I approach the house, I stare in disbelief at the sight just outside the house.

Fuck. Journalists.

A swarm of people hangs around the gate with cameras and microphones. I slam my steering wheel, cursing under my breath. The last thing I want is a bunch of people who can't mind their own business, forcing themselves into my space, my life, and my story. That's just disrespectful.

I take out my shades and put them on, driving past them as they clamor around my car. Flashlight after flashlight goes off all over the place. How in the world did they find this place? My heart won't stop palpitating in my chest as I drive past them, watching from the rearview mirror as they're prevented from going further by the gate.

I drive straight to the driveway, bringing the car to a halt, before rushing out and into the house.

"Fiona!" I shout before even getting into the house. I rush past the lobby and into the living room. There's no one here.

"Fiona!"

I hurry up the staircase, heading to her room. Stopping in front of the room, I knock. There's no response. Placing my ears on the door, I listen for sounds. There's none coming from in there. Wiping my already sweaty palms on my pants, I push the door to her room open, and it gives way. It's not locked.

I step in slowly, my eyes darting to the left and right.

"Fiona? Where are you?"

I walk past her living room area, moving to the bedroom area. The bed is neatly made but the room is empty apart from the cushion by the side of the window.

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