Page 42 of Secret Baby for a Damaged Billionaire

“Do you need anything?” she asks once we’re inside. “Water? Food?”

I shake my head, making a beeline for the treadmill. The only thing that will calm the restless energy thrumming through my veins is pushing my body to the brink.

Emily hesitates by the couches, worry shadowing her face. “Lucas, are you sure you should be exercising right now? Your heart’s already racing.”

“I’m fine,” I grit out, punching the start button with more force than necessary. The treadmill hums to life and I break into a run, ignoring the burn in my legs as I push the speed higher and higher.

Emily hovers at the edge of my vision, arms crossed over her chest, frown deepening with every increase of the speed gauge. I know I should stop to reassure her, but I can’t seem to slow my pace. All I can see is Carlo’s smug grin and hear his mocking laughter, fueling my determination to outrun the memories.

The speedometer ticks past twelve miles per hour, my heart thundering to match the pace. Emily throws her hands up, clearly realizing she won’t be able to talk sense into me.

“At least take it easy, will you?” she snaps, dropping onto the sofa. Her presence is oddly soothing despite her obvious annoyance.

I steal a quick glance at her, the brief distraction causing my stride to falter. She’s watching me like a hawk, gaze worried and wary. I wonder if she’s rethinking her decision to stick by my side through episodes like this and if she’s finally grasping what she’s signed up for by choosing to love a man as damaged as me. The thought makes my chest ache with a pain that has nothing to do with my protesting lungs. I pour on more speed, hoping to outrun that particular demon too.

My legs burn as I push past thirteen miles per hour, sweat dripping down my spine. I feel Emily’s gaze boring into me, silently urging me to stop before I do permanent damage, but I ignore it. If I stop now, the memories and self-doubts will overtake me. I have to keep moving.

“Lucas, come on. That’s enough.” Emily’s voice is sharp with worry. I risk another glance at her, seeing the frown etched into her pretty features, and my resolve wavers. I can’t stand being the cause of that look, not when she deserves so much better.

With a muttered curse, I slap the emergency stop button, legs buckling as the treadmill belt slows to a stop. I clutch the handrails to remain upright, chest heaving as I gulp in air. My pulse continues to race even as my body stills, flashes of violence playing on a loop behind my eyelids.

But then, gentle hands grasp my face, tilting it. I blink open my eyes to find Emily peering up at me, her expression soft with compassion.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs. “Just breathe. I’m right here.”

Her words pierce through the haze of panic and memory, grounding me in the present. I draw a shaky breath, then another, matching the rhythm of her thumbs stroking my cheekbones. Slowly but surely, my heart rate begins to settle into a more normal pace.

Chapter Nineteen (Emily)

The bustle of downtown Boston thrums around us as Chloe prattles on about centerpieces and seating charts. The city is alive with the sounds of laughter and chatter as tourists and locals enjoy the fresh afternoon air.

“Okay, so we’ve got to finalize the seating chart and pick out the menu,” Chloe announces. Her voice is full of excitement, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Lucas. “There will be hell to pay if I sit the Ohioans anywhere near my Southie cousins.”

I let out a small chuckle, imagining the chaos that would ensue between her wacky relatives. “No doubt. We’re going to need to find someplace that serves caffeine so we can sit and talk about it,” I suggest, steering her towards a nearby coffeehouse. Inside, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as we settle into a pair of worn leather armchairs.

Chloe opens her wedding planning notebook, revealing a detailed seating chart that would impress even the most seasoned event planner. “So, here’s what I’m thinking,” she begins, pointing to various names on the chart. “We’ll put Aunt Connie next to Uncle Joe, because they haven’t seen each other in years, and we all know how much they love to gossip.”

“Sounds perfect,” I agree, suppressing an eye roll. “What about the menu? Have you decided on that yet?”

“Almost,” Chloe says, biting her lip. “I just can’t decide between the sea bass or the beef tenderloin for the main course. What if someone has allergies or is gluten intolerant? I swear, if someone calls 9-1-1…. Can you imagine the disaster?”

“Chloe, relax,” I laugh. “I’m sure whatever you choose will be delicious and no one will end up in the hospital.”

She grins sheepishly, acknowledging the ridiculousness of her fears.

The idea of a hospital makes me think back to Lucas again. My worry continues to grow each day he stays in his apartment, away from the gym, away from outside interactions. He’s not getting any better and I’m beginning to fear for his future.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m overthinking it,” she admits. “But, seriously, what if there’s a huge fight at the reception over something silly like who gets the last piece of cake or who’s the better drunken dancer? I’d die of embarrassment!”

The mention of a fight leaves me no choice but to tell Chloe. She needs to know what happened to Lucas and honestly, I can use her support right now. I just don’t know what to do anymore.

“Speaking of fights,” I say hesitantly. “There was an incident with Lucas recently, at the gym.” I press my lips together. “With Carlo.”

Chloe gasps, her eyes wide. “Fuck! I knew something was going to go wrong. What happened? Did Lucas hurt someone?”

Her response sent my mind spiraling, almost like she assumed Lucas did something bad, like he was the aggressor.

“Actually, it was Carlo’s doing,” I state plainly. “He instigated the entire thing, attacking Lucas with a bunch of lies,” I explain. “Lucas lost his cool and they fought.” Chloe’s eyes grow wider. “It was a draw, but, seriously, Lucas could have killed him if he wanted to. It got pretty intense.”

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