Page 41 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad

I firm my lips. "Something you want to get off your chest, Father?" I tilt my head.

Edward pauses in front of me. He peers into my features. "It’s different."

"What is?"

"The lyrics you wrote?" He purses his lips. "It’s the first thing that’s you."

"Like I give a fuck."

"Everything you wrote before this came from a place of anger, but this…" His forehead furrows, "It’s raw, it’s the words of a man who’s finding there’s more to life than the selfish focus on himself."

"What else is there to life?" I roll my shoulders "Except sex and drugs and rock n’ roll."

"Love." Edward’s lips kick up.

"Love?" I laugh. "You’re not in church, Father."

"Stop trying so hard, Damian," his voice is soft. “Sometimes you need to enjoy what you have in front of you."

"And I thought the Rockstar was getting overly emotional. Jeez, Edward, between the two of you, I hope it doesn’t catch on." Arpad glances between us. "Glad things are clearer for me—the open sea, the wind in my hair. I don’t need much else."

"It’s also called escape." I smirk. "What are you running from, dipshit?"

"The same thing as you, dickwad," he chuckles.

We stare at each other, then he jerks his chin toward the open door and to the boxing ring in the center of the main room, "Wanna fight it out?"

I crack my knuckles. "Thought you’d never ask."

Edward glances between us. "Mind if I stick around to watch two grown men make utter asses of themselves?"

Arpad cracks his knuckles.

I draw myself up to my full height.

"So, you enjoyed the little surprise I sent your way, huh?"

"Wait." I blink. "What are you—?" I stiffen. "It was you?" I snap. "You sent Julia to me?"

He nods.

"You called up her agency and asked for her to be my nanny?"

"Bingo." He pretends to shoot at me while making a popping sound.

"The fuck?" I growl. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"’Cause the sparks between the two of you that day were intense, 'cause it was the first time I'd seen you interested in something other than your own grief?" He folds his arms across his chest, "Because, apparently, I care about you enough not to see you fuck up your life?"

"Oh?"

"Not that you deserve it, of course," he nods. "In fact, I think I should start by rearranging your pretty features. It may help wring some sympathy from your to-be girlfriend."

"Don’t talk about her, you piece of shit."

He laughs "You angry enough to give me a proper fight this time?"

I step forward and bury my fist in his face.