Page 47 of The Billionaire's Paradise

“Oh good. That’s what I need in a co-parent.”

“Fine, if you need to ask her about it tomorrow, go for it. Fill me in when I get back.”

“Get back? From where?”

He rolled over, facing away from me, his head settling into his pillow. “Hal’s flying in. We’re meeting in his suite at the resort. He wants to go over numbers for the venture.”

“Oh.”

“It won’t take too long,” he said, instantly catching my tone. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

“No, it’s fine.” I stared at the ceiling again. “You should do that. It’s important. Much more important than our child.”

“Matt… don’t be like that.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Fine, be like that then. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

The moonlight shifted, casting a silvery stripe across his back. Eventually, he reached out and laced his fingers with mine, but I couldn’t stop the tiny ripple of jealousy that tugged at my chest like a loose thread.

Hal.

Hotel suites.

Numbers.

All the things I wasn’t invited to.

“I just want us to do this together,” I said softly. “And not let anything—anyone—pull us off track.”

Cal rolled toward me, his hand suddenly warm and firm against my cheek.

“Wearedoing this together,” he said. “Hal’s just business. A few meetings, some spreadsheets, a bunch of words like ‘asset leverage’ and ‘scalable margins.’ He’s all about financial deals. But you—” He kissed me lightly, once, twice, a third time just because. “You’re the real deal, babe. You’re the future. You’re the reason for all of it.”

I exhaled. The jealousy untangled just enough to let love back in.

“Fine,” I whispered. “But I’m still asking Leilani about the royal thing. And I’m putting in a formal request that our child gets a title. Something ceremonial. Like ‘Little Highness.’”

Cal chuckled against my shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“It is if you believe hard enough.”

From the couch downstairs, our very own queen spluttered out a loud snort—as if voicing her agreement—before settling back into her rhythmic rumble for the night.

CHAPTER 18

It was still early—thesun just beginning to stretch its golden limbs over the edge of the ocean—when I crept out of the house, tiptoeing past Mrs. Mulroney like she was an ancient beast guarding a treasure.

I needed air.

And the chance to think.

I hadn’t slept much. My mind kept chasing itself in circles, pinging between royal bloodlines and the image of Cal walking into some luxury hotel suite with Hal and his smug, alpha energy.

I kept replaying every look Cal gave me at the luau, trying to decode them for reassurance I should’ve already felt. My heart wanted to rest, but my brain had questions—and it wouldn’t stop whispering them in the dark.

I didn’twantto be jealous. But jealousy doesn’t ask permission—it just packs a bag, moves in, and starts planting seeds of doubt in your normally happy life.