52. Leo
52
Leo
I t’s been three days since Sabrina looked me in the eyes and said yes .
Yes to… us.
Three days of walking around this penthouse feeling like I’ve been shot out of a cannon and landed in some alternate fucking reality.
A better reality.
A terrifyingly, exhilaratingly real reality.
The PR shitstorm from Luca’s dramatic exit and Jen Takahashi’s tabloid tantrum is still raging, of course. Sabrina’s been a fucking whirlwind, a one-woman crisis management machine, spinning narratives, placating investors, and generally kicking ass.
Her new strategy for Maxwell Capital is actually starting to gain traction. You know, focusing on stability, my renewed dedication to responsible leadership, and the new venture fund.
Key man clauses have been triggered in a couple of our portfolio companies, and the lawyers are having a goddamn field day. That part is still a mess. A multi-billion dollar mess .
But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel… overwhelmed by it. Because I’m not facing it alone. I don’t have Luca anymore.
But I have her.
Sabrina’s here. In my office. In my life. In my bed .
Yeah.
No more retreating to the guest suite. She stays. Every night.
Tangled in my sheets, her dark curls spread across my pillow, her body warm and soft against mine.
And the sex… fuck. It’s different again. Deeper. More connected. Less about raw, angry need, more about… exploration.
Discovery.
Like we’re mapping out a new territory, together.
Jesus, listen to me. Sentimental fucking bastard.
And Mia. My daughter. She’s here, too, a tiny, gurgling force of nature who has completely fucking hijacked my heart.
My schedule, once meticulously managed by Michelle to maximize deal flow and discreet assignations, is now dictated by nap times, feeding schedules, and the urgent, non-negotiable need to make goofy faces at a tiny human who finds my attempts at paternal charm endlessly fascinating.
It’s chaos.
It’s exhausting.
It’s… fucking incredible .
Which brings me to today.
My mother.
Karen Maxwell.
She called yesterday, and when she discovered Sabrina and I were back together, she immediately insisted on her monthly supervised visit, saying that she had waited long enough .
I reluctantly agreed.
“Are you sure about this, Leo?” Sabrina asked last night, curled against me in bed. “After… everything? Are you ready?”
Ready? Am I ever fucking ready for anything that involves my mother?
But I remembered her words on the phone, that unexpected flash of steel, that fierce maternal fire when she told me to move mountains to get Sabrina and Mia back.
“Yeah,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “Yeah, I think I am. For Mia’s sake. And maybe… maybe for mine too.”
So, here we are. The penthouse living room. Neutral territory, or as neutral as it gets when you’re the billionaire son trying to navigate a lifetime of complicated bullshit with the woman who, for better or worse, is your mother.
Sabrina is here, beside me. Mia is in her lap, happily chewing on a teething rusk, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension in the room.
The private elevator dings.
Thomas, ever the stoic professional, ushers Karen Maxwell into the room.
She looks… different than she did in the café. More… hesitant. Almost fragile.
She’s dressed simply, in a soft knit sweater and slacks, her blonde hair neatly styled, but her hands are clasped tightly in front of her. She looks like she’s walking into a goddamn lion’s den.
Which, to be fair, isn’t far from the truth.
Her gaze flicks from me to Sabrina, then settles on Mia. And just like before, her face crumples. Tears well in her eyes, genuine, unfeigned.
The carefully constructed composure shatters, revealing the raw vulnerability underneath.
“Leonardo,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “Sabrina. And… oh, Mia.” She takes a tentative step towards us, then stops, as if unsure of her welcome.
“Mom,” I say, my own voice surprisingly steady. “Come in. Sit down.” I gesture towards the armchair opposite the sofa.
She sinks into it, her gaze still fixed on Mia. “She’s… she’s gotten so big.”
“Babies do that, Mom,” I say, trying for a lightness I don’t entirely feel.
Sabrina, bless her, steps in. “She’s had a growth spurt, Karen. And she’s just started… well, almost crawling. More like a very determined, slightly uncoordinated scoot .”
Mia chooses that moment to let out a happy shriek, waving her half-eaten rusk in the air.
Karen laughs. “Oh, she’s… she’s so beautiful. Just like her mother. And she has your eyes, Leonardo. Definitely your eyes.”
The tension in the room eases slightly.
We talk. Stilted at first. Awkward. But gradually… it becomes easier.
Karen asks Sabrina about Mia’s routine, her favorite toys, her latest milestones. Sabrina answers patiently, including Mia in the conversation, pointing out her new tooth, her funny little habit of sticking her tongue out when she’s concentrating.
And my mother… she listens. Her gaze is soft, her questions genuine.
She’s not trying to impress. Not trying to manipulate. She’s just… being a grandmother. A hesitantly fragile, but undeniably present grandmother .
I watch them, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me.
The old resentment it’s still there.
But it’s tempered by something else now.
That conversation on the phone, when she told me to fight for Sabrina and Mia, when she showed me that unexpected strength… it shifted something.
Later, after Mia has fallen asleep in Sabrina’s arms, my mother turns to me.
“Leonardo,” she says softly. “Thank you. For this. For letting me see her. For… giving me another chance.”
“You called when I needed it, Mom,” I say, the words surprising even myself. “You told me to move mountains to get Sabrina and Mia back. So I am.” I look at Sabrina, at Mia, my heart swelling with a fierce, protective love that still feels… new. But also, undeniably real. “This is my mountain now.”
My mom nods, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. “Your father… he never understood that. He never understood what truly mattered. He chose… he chose the wrong mountain.”
“I know, Mom,” I say quietly. And for the first time, the words aren’t laced with bitterness. Just sadness. For him. For her. For the years we lost.
Later that evening, after Karen has left and Mia is tucked into her crib, Sabrina finds me staring out at the city lights.
She wraps her arms around my waist, resting her head against my back. Her body is warm and familiar.
Feeling like home.
“You okay?” she asks, her voice a soft murmur against my shirt.
“Yeah.” I turn in her arms, pulling her close. “Yeah, I think I am.”
I look down at her, at the woman who has completely fucking upended my universe and shown me what truly matters in this world.
“I can’t forget the past, Sabrina,” I admit, the words raw and honest. “My mother… my father… it’s always going to be a part of me. But I’m choosing to build a different future. A better future. For Mia. For… us.”
I’m breaking the fucking cycle. Or at least, I’m going to die trying. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
No more literal near-death experiences.
“I know you are, Leo.” Her eyes shine with a trust that still makes my cynical heart ache. “And I’m here for you. We’re here.”
She reaches up, cupping my face, her thumbs gently stroking my jaw.
“So,” she says, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “About that Maxwell Capital strategy... I have a few ideas...”
I laugh, and pull her closer, my mouth finding hers.