Page 86 of Filthy Rich Daddies

“Yes,” I say. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

She grins. “I knew I was special.”

Colin makes a small “aww” sound and immediately ducks as Thalassa throws a tissue box at him.

“I’m lying here like a preggo hospital burrito,” she says, “and you guys are all just enjoying the view?”

“Beautiful burrito,” Dean says, moving to kiss her forehead. “I love you too.”

“Me three,” Colin says, stealing a corner of the bed to sit on.

I glance at them, at her, at the tangle of hands and crumpled linens and soft laughter in this too-bright room.

This is mine. This isours. It doesn’t feel complicated right now. It feels right.

The nurse brings in Thalassa’s discharge paperwork two hours later, along with a pamphlet about “hydration and pregnancy discomfort” and a pair of those disposable grippy socks that make her grimace.

“I look like a Muppet,” she mutters, dangling one foot in the air.

Colin grins. “A sexy Muppet.”

Dean makes a sound like he’s about to choke on his bottled water.

Thalassa shakes her head and rubs her eyes. “I can’t believe this is my life.”

“Neither can we,” Dean murmurs.

“You’re a student sugar baby,” Colin adds. “And we’re three emotionally stunted billionaires with control issues.”

“We’re a walking ethics debate,” I offer.

She lifts both hands in mock surrender. “And yet, somehow, this…works.”

It does. I feel it down to my bones. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to relax. Not entirely.

The hospital scare lit up a warning light in the back of my mind—one I didn’t know I still had. The thought of her being alone when something like this happens again is…unacceptable.

So I say it. “We want you at the mansion.”

She blinks. “Like…tonight?”

Dean nods. “Starting now. Until the babies come. And probably after that.”

“We have the space,” Colin adds. “We have a chef, a driver, and we can arrange an on-call nurse. You’ll be safe. We’ll be there.”

“It’s not just about safety,” I say quietly. “It’s about belonging.”

She looks at each of us in turn. Then leans back in the bed, clearly stalling. “I mean…it would make the stalking easier.”

Colin snorts.

I freeze. Because I hear the edge in her voice—not angry, not teasing. Testing. “I haven’t stalked you.”

The room goes quiet. Dean and Colin both glance at me.

Thalassa tilts her head. “Their expressions say otherwise.”

I clear my throat. “Not in the way you think.”