All Chapters of Billionaire Romance: Mine Tonight: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

One Week After Birth The NICU had become their entire world. Seraphine had been discharged from the hospital three days after Charlotte’s birth, but they returned every day, spending hours beside her incubator. Charlotte was gaining weight slowly four pounds now and breathing better each day. But the NICU stay stretched ahead indefinitely. “She needs to reach five pounds and regulate her own temperature consistently before we can discuss discharge,” the neonatologist Dr. Patel explained during rounds. “Plus feeding needs to be established either breast or bottle, but she needs to eat on her own without the feeding tube.” “How long does that typically take?” Damien asked, making notes on his phone. “For a thirty-two weeker? Usually four to six weeks total NICU time. Charlotte’s doing well, so potentially the shorter end of that range. But every baby is different.” Seraphine was pumping breast milk every three hours, determined to give Charlotte that advantage even though she could

Late June - Charlotte: Three Months Old Seraphine woke to Charlotte’s cries at 2:47 AM the fourth time that night. She stumbled to the bassinet on autopilot, her body moving before her brain fully engaged. Three months of this and she still wasn’t used to the relentless sleep deprivation. “I’ve got her,” Damien said, already sitting up. “You fed her at midnight. My turn.” “She probably needs to eat again. I don’t think you can” “I’ll give her a bottle. We have pumped milk.” He was already lifting Charlotte, cradling her with the confidence he’d developed over three months. “Sleep. You have that production meeting at nine.” Seraphine wanted to argue but exhaustion won. She fell back asleep to the sound of Damien talking softly to Charlotte as he carried her downstairs. When she woke again at six, Damien was back in bed, dark circles under his eyes but looking satisfied. “She took the whole bottle. Went back down after twenty minutes.” “You’re getting good at this.” “I’m learni

October - Charlotte: Seven Months Old Saturday morning arrived with the kind of peaceful quiet that only happened when Charlotte slept past six AM. Seraphine woke at seven-thirty to find Damien already awake, watching her. “She’s still asleep,” he whispered. “It’s been nine hours.” “Nine hours? That’s… that’s a full night’s sleep.” Seraphine felt almost disoriented. “Is she okay?” “I checked on her twenty minutes ago. Sleeping peacefully. I think we’ve reached the milestone where she can actually sleep through the night.” They lay in bed listening to the silence, both of them too alert now to go back to sleep despite the unprecedented opportunity. “What do we do with this time?” Seraphine asked. “Coffee. Conversation. Adult activities that don’t involve spit-up or diapers.” He pulled her close. “Remember when mornings were ours?” “Vaguely. Feels like a different lifetime.” They made it downstairs, brewed coffee, and were sitting at the kitchen table having an actual conversat

Summer - Charlotte: Fifteen Months Old Charlotte had discovered the word “no” and wielded it with alarming frequency. Breakfast? No. Getting dressed? No. Nap time? Absolutely not, accompanied by running away as fast as her toddler legs could carry her. “She’s testing boundaries,” Patricia explained calmly as Charlotte refused to eat the carefully prepared lunch. “Normal developmental stage.” “How long does this stage last?” Seraphine asked, watching Charlotte throw a piece of banana on the floor deliberately while maintaining eye contact. “Months. Sometimes years. Welcome to toddlerhood.” “Wonderful. So we’ve graduated from sleep deprivation to willful defiance.” “Essentially, yes.” Seraphine had returned to work full-time after Cannes, finding a rhythm that worked: office from eight to four, home with Charlotte until bedtime, evening work after Charlotte was asleep if necessary. Patricia handled Charlotte’s days, but Seraphine was determined to be present for mornings and even

January - Charlotte: Twenty-One Months Old Award season descended with the intensity Seraphine had anticipated but not fully prepared for. The historical drama received seven Oscar nominations, including Best Picture. As producer, Seraphine was suddenly on every studio’s press circuit talk shows, panels, luncheons, screenings, the relentless machinery of awards campaigning. “I need you in LA for four days next week,” her publicist Maya Rodriguez—not to be confused with Film Maya informed her during a strategy call. “Morning shows, critic screenings, guild events. It’s nonnegotiable if we want to maintain momentum.” “Four days. Charlotte’s never been away from me that long.” Seraphine was already calculating logistics Patricia’s schedule, Damien’s availability, whether her mother could fly in again. “Bring her. We’ll arrange childcare at the hotel. Plenty of producers campaign with their kids.” “Do they? Or do male producers campaign while their wives handle their kids?” “Both, a