Chapter 2

2

Bianca stumbled home early the next morning, smelling like a stale bar. She tossed a designer shopping bag into my lap and collapsed onto the lounge chair.

I opened the box inside and pulled out a delicate, buttery peach tart. Just as I was about to take a bite, Bianca let out a sharp, annoyed cry.

"Don't you dare touch that! Those pastries are for Hunter. Your breakfast is the bag at the bottom."

I looked into the bag. It contained two soggy, cheap mushroom sliders from a greasy spoon diner. A bitter smile touched my lips. Mushrooms?

Years ago, my father died falling off a cliff while foraging for rare mushrooms that Bianca's father had demanded.

Ever since then, even the smell of mushrooms made me want to retch until my stomach was empty. Even the cook knew never to bring them into the house.

How could Bianca not know?

My stomach churned as I looked at the premium pastries meant for Hunter and the revolting sliders in my hand.

Bianca opened her eyes and barked, "Where's my hangover smoothie? I'm carrying your child, remember? If something happens to the baby, it's on you."

In my past life, mention of the baby made me surrender everything. But now, I knew the truth.

I was wearing the horns of a cuckold, and she was proud of it. I felt a tremor in my hand, and the mushroom slider fell, rolling across the floor to her feet.

I looked her dead in the eye and spoke calmly. "Then go to the clinic and take care of it. Clear the slate."

*

Bianca snapped her head toward me. The brief flash of shock on her face was quickly replaced by a forced, mocking laugh.

"Hahaha... I must be more wasted than I thought. I'm hearing things."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Who was the one begging me for a baby every night? You wanted to tie me down, didn't you? I only did this because my father was breathing down my neck."

"Now you're threatening to have me end it? I can walk away from this child whenever I want. I give you respect for your father's sake, Jasper. Don't push me."

She turned to leave, but I raised my voice. "You say it's mine. Are you sure it's mine and not that boy toy's?"

Bianca froze. For the first time, her composure cracked, and a flicker of genuine panic crossed her eyes. "Of... of course you're the father."

She stumbled toward the back of her car, muttering to herself. "I'm definitely too drunk. These dreams are getting weird."

The driver closed her door and nodded to me before pulling away. I watched them go with a cold sneer. Bianca was always good with words.

I was the father in name. But she knew damn well who the biological father was.