Falling for the Billionaire Wolf and His BabyBy: Sasha Summers
“Congratulations, you’re the father.” Hollis sounded like he was announcing time of death, not the birth of a child.
Finn stared blindly out the window, anger and frustration warring with utter disbelief. “You’re sure?” He couldn’t keep the razor-sharp edge from his voice. Hollis was just the messenger—one of the few people Finn could trust, one of the few that stood by him no matter what. He was the asshole who knocked up a long-forgotten one-night stand. How was the question. He was always careful. Extra careful when it came to sex. He had to be. “I met her four months ago, Hollis. Are you sure?” His grip on the phone tightened.
“I’m sure it’s yours. A full-term, healthy baby. I can’t guarantee much more.” Hollis’s voice remained calm, almost detached, as always. “Cara didn’t make it. She has no family, no one to challenge custody of the baby.”
Cara. She’d been so full of life, so hungry for the next big adventure. What they’d shared had been fast and furious. When they’d parted, it had been on good terms, no expectations or regrets. How could she be dead?
Hollis’s words grabbed his attention. “Looking at the body—I’m not sure what happened.”
“So, not a car accident?” Finn had wondered. Guilt and sadness kicked him in the gut.
“That would be the easy explanation. One that will be her official cause of death.”
“But I think there’s more to it.” Hollis sighed. “There’s always more to it when we are involved. I’m going to have a look at her records, see what needs to be taken care of. I hate to point this out but…this isn’t going to go over well with the others.”
“No shit,” Finn growled. “It’s not exactly making my day, either.” Hollis hadn’t said it, but Finn knew the truth. Cara’s death was on him. His fucking fault.
“No, I don’t imagine it is.” He paused, the silence loaded until he added, “As unfortunate as that is, he can’t stay here.”
“He?” Finn repeated, his brain already assessing damage control.
“Your son,” Hollis finally snapped. “This is dangerous, Finn.”
Because there was nobody or nothing like his…son. This boy could jeopardize everything they’d been striving for the last ten years. Words wouldn’t come. His son. He might be a baby now, but what the hell would he become? What would he be capable of? Self-loathing, hot and bitter, flooded Finn’s mouth.
“Jesus, Finn, are you listening?” Hollis paused. “He can’t stay in the hospital. I’ve been handling tests, all his bloodwork, but I can’t be here twenty-four seven. You must come get him. He’s your responsibility.”
Hollis was right. And there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. “Fine.” The word was clipped.
“Today,” Hollis added.
Meaning Finn needed to work faster on finding help. The initial call from Cara’s agent the night before had given him a heads-up, but he’d known the kid wasn’t his. It had been too soon, an impossibility. Now… He ran a hand through his hair, wanting to hit something. “Give me ‘til noon. I’ll be there.” He sat in his tall-backed leather chair, slammed the phone onto the desk, and pressed his fingers to his temples.
What the fuck was he supposed to do? Babies weren’t dogs—you couldn’t put them in a kennel for the day. He wasn’t equipped for this. His assistant, Marjorie, had pulled employee files for him last night—right before she’d quit. And this time, he didn’t think she was coming back.
He’d met with two of the three assistants he deemed acceptable this morning. Neither was suitable. Nor did they act as if they could deal with the sort of surprises that might come with this baby. Contestant number three was his only hope. It’s not like he could just call a nanny service, not yet. He’d have to wait a month. If this baby… He sighed, rolling his head and easing the tension in his neck.
Hollis was right—this was dangerous for them. Too many unknowns, too many variables, to turn over to a stranger.
Not to mention the Others. They would not be happy about this new addition. What they did about it was the real question. All he could do was wait. And that wasn’t how he rolled.
The intercom beeped. “Mr. Regatti and Mr. Martin are here,” the receptionist announced.
“Fine.” He had a business to run, several million-dollar companies, to be exact. People counted on him. This would wait until noon. “I’ll be in the conference room in five minutes. I need a pot of coffee.”