Page 80 of Baby For The Bad Boy Billionaire

The fucking nerve.

She pulls back. "Don't worry, darling, you're not the only rich boy in town." She spins on her heel, walking off with that infuriating stride.

I watch her go, my jaw clenched and my hands balling into fists at my side.

I’m furious, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction of a scene. The park is full with people, and the last thing I need is to feed the gossip mill.

She knows exactly what she’s doing, kissing me in public where she knows I won’t react.

Fuck.

I'm so done with all this shit.

The games, the manipulations, the fucking firefighting.

Every time I trust someone, they turn around and stab me in the back, and I'm fucking tired of it.

I trusted Gina. I trusted my brother. I trusted Bailey.

Look where all that fucking got me.

I grit my teeth.

I won't let them see me break, won't let them see me lose control. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me defeated.

25

BAILEY

It's freezing out this morning. And the idea of trudging through this to the office is as appealing as a root canal. I order a cab.

Thank God for modern conveniences.

I slip into the warm car, my breath fogging up the window.

"How are you doing this morning, miss?" The driver looks at me in the rearview.

"I'm fine, thanks."

I look out the window as the streets pass us by when a wave of nausea hits me. I swallow hard.

Car sickness?

I haven't fully woken up yet.

Or I need another cup of coffee.

I ignore it, focusing on the dull gray buildings sliding past.

But then, another wave of nausea creeps up faster than the first one. It’s so strong that I have to clamp my hand over my mouth, my knuckles turning white as I fight against the overwhelming urge to throw up.

The driver's eyes flick to me in the rearview mirror. "Miss, are you alright?"

"I... I need you to pull over."

He doesn't hesitate, veering off to the side of the road. As soon as the car stops, I push the door open, barely making it onto the pavement.

Gross.