Page 130 of Babies for the Big Shot

Stay in bed. Take the day. Rest. I’ll handle the world until you’re ready to rejoin it. —N

I set it where she’ll see it, then grab a suit from the closet and head for the door.

Because I’ve got a mysterious woman to track down, a security breach to contain, and, apparently, a new family to protect.

Also, I think we’re out of garlic knots.

So, yeah. Crisis mode.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The elevator ride to the executive floor passes in complete silence. No one approaches, and I don’t make an effort to engage.

Given the state I’m in, I can’t blame them. Three hours of sleep and a night spent wrestling a bulldog in my dreams leave me looking like I’ve been through a battle. Because, in truth, I have.

Jonah is already in my office when I arrive. He’s standing by the window, holding a mug of something far too green for my liking, a mild concern evident on his face.

His expression says it all—he’s waiting for a public breakdown. A meltdown, perhaps. The kind of moment whenthe line between chaos and clarity disappears, and everyone around you wonders how you’ll handle it.

“Morning,” he says, cautiously. “You look… different.”

I drop my briefcase onto the couch and immediately go for my tie, loosening it in one swift motion. “I just got spooned by a French bulldog,” I reply dryly.

Jonah nods as if this explains everything he needs to know. “That actually answers a lot of questions I hadn’t asked.”

I rub a hand over my jaw and walk straight to the liquor cabinet, but not for whiskey. It’s too early for that, and the situation demands clarity. Instead, I pull out the emergency espresso pods I keep hidden behind the bottles.

“We need to find out who Isla Vale is. Now.”

Jonah straightens, the wheels in his mind turning at full speed. “The name on the tips? The anonymous leak?”

“She’s not just writing the gossip,” I say, turning to hand him the tablet with the security report. I flip to the grainy image of the hooded figure loitering just outside the executive offices. “She’s coordinating it. This was two nights ago. Security tracked her movements. Whoever it was bypassed the garage entrance, used a secondary stairwell. No keycard, no sign in. Someone let her in.”

Jonah frowns, his expression sharpening with realization. “You think it’s Isla?”

“I think it’s someone feeding her. Someone with internal access and a very personal vendetta.”

Jonah mutters a curse under his breath as he sinks into the chair opposite my desk. “Christ. I knew the Rebecca situation would come back to bite us, but this… this is coordinated.”

I exhale slowly, focusing on the weight of my words. “It’s not just about me and Sara anymore. This is about everything. Someone is trying to destroy all of it.”

Jonah’s eyes flick to mine, understanding the gravity of what I’m saying.

I hesitate, the weight of what I’m about to say pressing down on me. But I trust Jonah. I need someone else to carry this burden, someone to help navigate the chaos. I lean back in my chair, fold my arms across my chest, and finally speak the truth I’ve been holding in.

“She’s pregnant.”

Jonah blinks, his expression blank for a moment. “Sara?”

I nod, once.

His brows shoot up in surprise. “Holy… okay. That’s… a big development.”

I don’t stop there. “There’s more. It’s triplets.”

Jonah drops his pen, eyes wide. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”