London, 9:03 a.m.Luke was waiting downstairs like nothing had happened.He was dressed in a black coat with blacker sunglasses and steel in his jaw, plus a perfectly blank expression as he stood by the Bentley’s open door. He looked like a man ready to guard royalty, not someone who’d had his hands up her dress and his mouth on her neck six hours ago.Anna Rossi descended the marble steps in a blazer-dress that screamed “fuck off” in a dialect only billionaires could afford. Her lush hair was scraped into a high ponytail.She didn’t speak. She merely slid into the backseat with the elegance of someone who’d had centuries to practice pretending she didn’t care.Luke shut the door behind her, it was too gentle. Like she might crack.By the time he got behind the wheel, she was already on her phone, scrolling viciously through either gossip headlines or group texts she didn’t actually care about. Probably both.“Morning,” he said, his voice low, damn near inaudible.She didn’t glance
The backseat of the Bentley shimmered in soft light, tinted windows cocooning Anna Rossi in a kind of rich-girl vibe as the car hummed past the glittering streets of London. Her phone buzzed again, another ping from the gossip feeds. She sighed, crossing her long legs. Rossi Heiress Caught “Flirting Dangerously” with a Prince yet Again? Anna Rossi or Anna Racy? A Breakdown of the Billionaire Sister’s London Romp Five Clutches, One Night: Is She Showing Off or Spiraling? Anna let out a laugh, dry and sweet like the aged wine they couldn’t even get right at Buckingham dinners. “Flirting dangerously,” she muttered, skimming the article with one manicured finger. “Darling, I invented that danger.” The car swerved gently, weaving toward the West End where Verre Noire awaited an ultra-exclusive nightclub hidden beneath a Michelin-starred restaurant. Anna reached for her diamond-studded clutch, then paused, eyeing the metallic sapphire one beside it. Her brow furrowed in agony. “Lu
Nathan Rossi adjusted the cuffs of his tailored black suit, his black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he scrolled through merger contracts on his tablet. The limo hummed smoothly toward the private jet, his security detail and personal assistant, Luke, sitting across from him tapping away on his knees. Then—his phone buzzed. Rachel’s FaceTime – Incoming Nathan swiped to answer before the first ring finished. The screen filled with the glorious chaos of his wife’s frazzled face, her dark hair piled into a messy bun, a suspicious stain on her shoulder and the kind of exhausted glare that could melt steel. Behind her, the wails of their three-month-old daughter, Isabella, filled the car like a tiny, furious opera singer. "Your daughter has decided that sleep is a capitalist construct, and I’m a victim of her revolution." Nathan’s lips twitched. "So what you’re saying is… she’s already a Rossi?" Rachel groaned, rubbing her temples. "She’s been crying for
Nathan Rossi had built an empire on his ability to stay calm under pressure. But as he watched his very pregnant wife waddle across their penthouse like an angry penguin, he realized no business deal had prepared him for this. Rachel stopped in front of the full-length mirror, scowling at her reflection. "Nathan, I swear to God, if one more person tells me I'm glowing, I'm going to stab them with this spoon." She brandished her ice cream spoon like a weapon. Nathan approached slowly, holding out a fresh tub of vanilla bean ice cream like a peace offering. "First of all, you are glowing. Second of all, here's more ammunition so you don't shoot the messenger." Rachel snatched it, grumbling as she shoved a heaping spoonful into her mouth. "Easy for you to say. You didn't wake up this morning and realize you can't see your own feet anymore." She gestured dramatically at her swollen belly. "I'm a human blimp. A very angry, very pregnant blimp." Nathan wrapped his arms arou
Nathan Rossi had built an empire on his ability to stay calm under pressure. But as he watched his very pregnant wife waddle across their penthouse like an angry penguin, he realized no business deal had prepared him for this. Rachel stopped in front of the full-length mirror, scowling at her reflection. "Nathan, I swear to God, if one more person tells me I'm glowing, I'm going to stab them with this spoon." She brandished her ice cream spoon like a weapon. Nathan approached slowly, holding out a fresh tub of vanilla bean ice cream like a peace offering. "First of all, you are glowing. Second of all, here's more ammunition so you don't shoot the messenger." Rachel snatched it, grumbling as she shoved a heaping spoonful into her mouth. "Easy for you to say. You didn't wake up this morning and realize you can't see your own feet anymore." She gestured dramatically at her swollen belly. "I'm a human blimp. A very angry, very pregnant blimp." Nathan wrapped his arms arou
Rachel woke up to sunlight filtering through the luxurious tent. For a moment, she simply lay there, Nathan's warm body curled around hers, his hand resting protectively over her still-flat stomach. The wonder of it all still took her breath away,she was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. A loud crash outside made them both jump up with Nathan springing up from sleep. "Oh my goodness!" Antonio's voice boomed. "This grill hates to see me coming!" Nathan groaned and rubbed his face. "My dad is trying to cook again," he mumbled into his pillow. Rachel turned to face him, smiling at his messy morning hair. "I married into this crazy family, didn’t I?" she reminded him. He kissed her nose. "Best decision ever." The tent flap suddenly flew open and they flew apart. Anna stood there wearing silk pajamas and huge sunglasses, holding two steaming cups. "Good morning, Mommy and Daddy," she sang. "I brought tea." She paused. "Well, the chef made tea. I carried it like the hero I a