Page 19 of The Billionaire's Promise

The strength drained from my muscles. I braced my palms on the island to hold myself up, my head dropping forward, my eyes staring blindly at the countertop. Dead? I wished I were more surprised. I didn't need to hear the answer when Magnolia whispered, “How? What happened?"

It could've been an accident. She could've gotten sick. But I knew that wasn't what had killed Amy. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and gritted my teeth when Stephanie said, “She overdosed,” in that same flat, empty voice.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry," Magnolia said, her voice thick with tears. "When? How long ago?"

She tucked her body into mine, pushing her shoulder under my arm and wrapping her arm around me, sliding her hand under my shirt so that her palm rested on the bare skin of my back. I leaned into her, grateful for the anchor of her touch when everything I knew was suddenly spinning out of my grasp.

"Why didn't she tell me?" I asked, still staring at the countertop, my voice low and ragged.

"I wanted her to," Stephanie said. "She said she wasn't ready. I think she wanted to be sure she could stay sober."

"Was she? Sober? The last time we were together, she said she was clean." I had to force the words out. I wasn't surprised Amy was dead, but fuck, the thought of it hurt.

"She was. She was clean the whole pregnancy. Then she relapsed right after Rosie was born. Just once. Then she stayed clean for a few months until last week—" Stephanie broke off with a choking sound.

"So, what do we do now?" Magnolia asked gently. "Since you're here, I'm assuming that you want Vance to play a role in his daughter's life."

"He's on the birth certificate. He's her father, and he needs to take her. I love Rosie, and I loved my sister, but I can't do this. I can barely support myself. I can't take care of a baby."

Slowly, Magnolia said, "I don't want to make this more difficult, but just because Vance is on the birth certificate, it doesn't mean he's the father. I assume you want more than just for Vance to take the child?"

Stephanie straightened, and in a hard voice, she said, "I want fifty grand, and you can have the baby."

"What the fuck?” I said. She'd flipped from grieving sister to extortionist in a breath. Magnolia was right. Just because they said I was the father, it didn't make it true. Amy was a fun girl. We had some good times together, but she wasn't exactly a nun. I wasn't the only guy she slept with on a semi-regular basis back in the day. Fortunately, Magnolia was thinking, even if I wasn't.

"Obviously, we’ll have to do a blood test before there's any discussion of payment. If sheisVance's daughter, and he agrees to take custody, you'll have to sign papers agreeing as well. He's not going to be open to blackmail."

Stephanie's shoulders sagged. "Look, I'm not trying to be a bitch here. It's just that I'm a waitress, and I'm trying to go to school. I blew more than half of my savings on hospital bills for Amy, and the funeral pretty much wiped me out. I can't afford to take care of Rosie, and I can't pay next semester's tuition. This isn't my problem. You got her pregnant, and she left me with the baby. I don't deserve to have my whole life fucked up because of it."

"I understand," Magnolia said in a crisply dismissive tone. "I need you to excuse us for a moment." She nudged me in the ribs to get my attention. I grunted in response. "Vance, I’d like to talk to you in the office."

Obedient for once, I followed her into the office, saying nothing until she shut the door. My mind spun. Amy was dead. I was a father. I couldn't get a handle on it all.

I braced for Magnolia to cut into me. Instead, she said, "Sit down. You look like you're about to pass out."

I sat, resting my elbows on my knees and letting my head hang as I stared at the floor.

"I don't think she's lying," Magnolia said, her voice barely above a whisper. The office had a door, but the walls didn't extend all the way the ceiling. I nodded, responding in the same low tone.

"I don't think she's lying either," I said. "Fuck. How the fuck did this happen?"

Magnolia leaned against the desk and surprised me with a wry laugh. "Considering how many times I've woken you up with a naked woman in your bed, I'm pretty sure I don't need to explain how this happened."

"Bite me, Sugar."

"I don't think so," she said tartly. "Look, I'm going to call Dr. Whitmore's office. The first thing we need to do is determine that she's your daughter. If she is, what you want to do?"

"What you mean, what do I want to do? If she's my daughter, I want her. She's mine. It's bad enough that her mother died. No way in fucking hell will I walk out on her."

Magnolia’s eyes filled with tears. One fell over her lashes to skate down her cheek before she lifted her hands and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. Sucking in and blowing out a quick breath, she said, "Okay, good. So, that’s settled. I'll call Dave Price and get him to put together papers so Stephanie can relinquish any rights, assuming the blood test comes back showing that you're the father."

"I'll call Dave," I said. "But I'd appreciate it if you could get on the line with Dr. Whitmore's office and have them agree to rush the blood test. If that little girl is my daughter, I want to get this wrapped up as soon as possible."

Magnolia nodded and walked out of our office. I picked up the phone and dialed my attorney. While I was waiting, Magnolia came back in, pulled out her own phone, and got on the line with the doctor's office.

There were downsides to being a Winters. Most people didn't see them. They saw the money and thought we had it all. The truth was, a lot of it sucked. Dead parents, dead aunt and uncle, and the media ripping us apart on a regular basis before we could even walk. But at times like this, being a Winters made life so much less complicated. The tests to show paternity could be done in hours. Dave was already drawing up the legal work. If that little girl was mine, we'd know it by morning.

CHAPTER EIGHT