My Baby's Billionaire Father

Elena

The morning light filtered in through the curtains. Too bright. Too sharp.

I dragged myself out of bed after barely a few hours of sleep. My mother's incessant cough had kept me awake most of the night.

In the kitchen Sophie lay sprawled across the floor, her crayons scattered around her. She looked up with her big, grey-blue eyes. Just like him and smiled.

"Mommy, can I come with you to the party?" she asked innocently.

My chest tightened. The staff must have been whispering about it.

"No you can't baby, it's not for little girls like you," I said lightly ruffling her hair.

She pouted, then went back to coloring; thankfully, she didn't press further about it.

The bitter steam of the coffee I had in the kitchen did nothing to calm the dread curling in my stomach.

I pushed gently on the door to my mother's room, balancing a tray of green tea and

toast. The curtains were drawn halfway letting in little brightness over the room.

"Mom," I said softly and set the tray on the bedside table.

Her eyes fluttered open, tired but warm.

"Elena."

She needed assistance so I propped her up with pillows against the headboard and placed the cup in her hands. She sipped slowly and handed it back to me.

"I know you're angry at your brother," she said. Not a question.

"He wants to marry me off to a man I barely know. No, this isn't just anger Mum, it's betrayal."

Her hand covered mine, frail but insistent. "Liam made mistakes. He took the wrong risks that didn't end well for him, but he is still your brother. Everything he does right now is just out of desperation."

I bit back a bitter laugh. "But that does not make it right."

"No," she agreed softly, "It makes it human. Elena, don't harden your heart against him, try and see the weight he's carrying, please my daughter."

Tears stung at the back of my eyes. "And what about the weight you want me to carry?"

Her voice cracked. "Sometimes love means sacrifice. Even when it breaks you.

I looked away, blinking back tears because I couldn't let her see how deep those words cut."

Sophie was still busy with her colors by the time I came back downstairs. I felt a pang of guilt knowing that I hadn't really spent enough time with her since we arrived.

"Sophie, do you want to go outdoors with mummy?"

Her head shot up, and with the biggest smile on my face. "Yes, I want to."

The rest of the morning was spent with Sophie admiring different exotic flowers in the garden and playing hide and seek, oh how I'd missed this.

We were halfway up the stairs when the slam of the front door startled me. A moment later Liam's voice filled the hallway.

"Elena?"

I sighed. What does he want?

"I need to see you in my study, now?"

"Sophie can you go up to the room mummy will join you soon"

"Okay."

He was already seated behind his desk when I walked in. I didn't even bother to sit.

"You're ready for tonight?" he asked, although it sounded more like an instruction than a question.

"I wasn't planning on it."

His face tightened. "Julian Marks wants you as his date tonight. You don't want to embarrass the family or mother."

I crossed my arms. "Funny how I'm the one trying to be embarrassing when it was you," I pointed a finger at him, "who got us in this mess in the first place."

His head shot up.

"Yes, I know you got involved in shady business deals and lost a lot of money."

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of guilt quickly masked with steel. "And that's why I'm trying to get us out of this mess." He replied in a cold voice.

"Oh please, by offering me up?"

"Everything we have left right now is because of him. So yes, Elena, you're going. And you'll smile while you do it."

"I would never forgive you for doing this to me." My voice broke.

"You don't need to, make sure you're ready by seven."

The dress clung to me like liquid moonlight, every curve smothered, every flaw hidden. In that moment, I could swear the woman staring back at me through the floor-length mirror was a model stepped out of a magazine cover.

She looked regal, perfect... untouchable.

But I knew better, underneath the silk and lace was just me, tired, anxious, and scared.

"Mummy?"

I turned. Sophie stood in the doorway, her small hands clutching her teddy, eyes wide in disbelief.

Her face lit up. "You look like a princess."

My throat tightened. "Really?"

She nodded eagerly, her curls bouncing as she came to have a closer look. "The most beautiful princess, prettier than the ones in my storybook."

I laughed softly, despite the ache in my chest. "That's quite the compliment."

She reached up, fingertips brushing over the diamond stones on the dress. "Can I come with you? Please?"

I crouched, gathering her into my arms, inhaling the soft smell of shampoo that clung to her hair. "Not tonight, my love. It's a party only for grown-ups."

Her little brow furrowed. "But I won't be there to always tell you that you're beautiful."

I kissed her cheek quickly, hiding the sting in my eyes. "I'll just have to remember what you said," I whispered, hiding the crack in my voice.

Sophie beamed, utterly convinced. "Promise me you won't forget."

"I promise," I said, holding her tighter as if she could anchor me against the storm I was walking into.

The ballroom glittered with high chandeliers, exquisite decorations, and laughter. Music swelled, drowning out the erratic pounding of my heart.

Julian Marks was ten years older than me,

Polished shoe, hair never out of place, the picture of success to every mother. But to me, all that polish felt like glass, cold and hard if you dared to press too close.

His smile never reached his eyes, and his gaze lingered on me. Not in a way of admiration but more like ownership.

"You look exquisitely beautiful tonight Elena." He said, his eyes devouring me.

"Oh thank you," I muttered.

"I'm sure no one would be able to keep their eyes off you," he said with a smirk.

I couldn't think of a response to that so I kept silent instead.

He looked proud as many heads turned in our direction immediately we stepped in.

I forced my chin up and pasted on a smile. I could survive just this one night of pretence I told myself.

He greeted a few people he knew, and all I could do was follow him around, smiling at people I had no interest in knowing.

I excused myself to go have some drinks at the bar, anything to get away from him.

And then I felt it, eyes... heavy. Burning.

My gaze lifted across the room.

And there he was.

Greyson Hale.

Five years older. Broader shoulder. Eyes harder. And still somehow, the boy who owned my heart.

The air left my lungs.