My Brother's Best Friend's Secret Baby

Rosalie's POV I couldn't move. I stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, staring at Aiden like a deer caught in headlights. He walked toward me. The space between us disappeared. I could smell his soap, clean and masculine. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Outside," he said. "Now." "I don't think that's a good idea." "I don't care what you think." His voice was hard. "Outside." He took hold of my elbow, firm but gentle, and guided me toward the back door. My skin burned where he touched me. We stepped onto the porch. The sun had already set. The air was warm, but I was shivering. He closed the door behind us and turned to face me. For a long moment, he just stood there, his hands clenched at his sides. His chest rose and fell as if he'd just run a marathon. "What the hell were you thinking?" he finally asked. I wrapped my arms around myself. "I wasn't trying to see anything. I was just going to my room, and the door was open. I didn't know you were the

Rosalie's POV I woke to sunlight pouring through my window and an empty bed. Aiden was gone. I sat up abruptly, clutching the sheet around me. My body ached in that lingering, pleasant way that made memories come rushing back. The signs of the night before were everywhere: rumpled sheets, faint marks on my skin, the unmistakable reminder that none of it had been a dream. But he wasn't there. I grabbed my phone. 7:30 a.m. Dad would already be awake. Jeffery too. Had Aiden slipped out before anyone noticed? I hurriedly got dressed, pulling on jeans and a T-shirt. My hands shook as I tied my hair into a ponytail. What did this mean? Where was he? I crept downstairs, my heart pounding. Voices drifted from the kitchen. It was Dad's, Jeffrey's, and Aiden's. I stopped in the hallway and listened. "So you're really leaving today?" Jeffery asked. "Yeah. My flight's at two." "Man, we barely got to see you." "I know. I'm sorry." "It's your job. We get it." Th

Rosalie's POV My cleaning cart was still out in the hallway. It was the only coherent thought running through my head as I stood in the doorway of Conference Room Three, frozen, staring at the man sitting at the far end of the table. My cart was waiting for me outside, complete with its mop, spray bottles, and neatly folded stack of towels. I was supposed to be on the fourth floor in forty minutes. But none of that mattered anymore because Aiden King was here, ten feet away from me. He was wearing a suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent, and he'd changed. That was the first thing I noticed, even before the panic or before blood seemed to turn to ice in my veins. He was different. He was still imposing and still carried that presence that could make an entire room feel smaller. But seven years had carved new edges into him. It had hardened him. His features were sharper now. Silver threaded through his dark hair at the temples. Just a few strands, but enough

Rosalie's POV I made it all the way to the elevator before I turned around. I didn't know what made me do it. Part of me refused to walk away while he still had the last word. Part of me had spent seven years waiting to say the things I'd never been able to say before, because I'd been too young, too broken, and too pregnant to do anything except run. So I went back into the conference room. He was still there. He hadn't moved from his chair, which surprised me. I'd almost expected him to already be on the phone, calling influential people who could make things happen. Instead, he was sitting exactly where I'd left him, his hands clasped on the table, staring at the door as though he'd known I'd come back. That irritated me more than I could explain. I pushed the door open and walked back to the table. I didn't sit down. I remained standing at the far end, my hands gripping the back of a chair as I looked him straight in the eye. "You want to talk about rights?" I said. "Fi

Rosalie's POV I cleaned seven rooms that afternoon, and I couldn't even begin to tell you what they looked like. My hands did all the work. Stripping beds and remaking them with fresh sheets. Folding the corners the way Mr. Gregor had taught me during training, tight and crisp like an envelope. Wiping down bathroom surfaces. Scrubbing toilets and bathtubs. Polishing mirrors until my own reflection stared back at me, pale and exhausted, dressed in a uniform that wasn't really mine. Vacuuming carpets in straight lines. Replacing the tiny bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and lotion guests had used once and left half empty. My hands did all the work while my mind was somewhere else. What did he really want? That question followed me everywhere, no matter how hard I tried to focus. He'd said he wanted to know Lucy. He'd said he wasn't trying to take her away from me. But he'd also mentioned consulting a lawyer. That wasn't the behavior of a man looking for a peaceful conversat