“Oh no,” Jemma groaned, eyes watering.Jayla, in contrast, beamed like she’d just saved the world.
“Where’s a clean diaper?”Saif asked, lifting Jayla and sniffing her gingerly, his face scrunching in comical dismay.“Is it necessary toconfirmthe source?”
Jemma laughed, hand over her nose.“I’ll handle it,” she said, standing and reaching for her daughter.
But Saif pulled back, holding Jayla securely.“Just show me where to change her,” he insisted.“I have experience with the kids from my older sister and other cousins.I’m a seasoned pro by now.”
She blinked, unsure how to respond.“It’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“Iwantto,” he said simply.“Just give me the supplies, Jemma.You need a break too.”
“They’re in her bedroom!”Jasper called out helpfully through the wall.
Saif smirked, then turned and headed down the hallway with Jayla in his arms like he’d been doing it for years.
Jemma watched him go, her chest tightening.And then she began to pace.
He was seeing her world now—reallyseeing it.The small space.The improvised furniture.Jayla’s room wasn’t even a nursery, just a crib by Jemma’s bed and a few used milk crates that stored clothes and diapers.The nightstand beside the mattress on the floor was made of two plastic milk crates stacked sideways, filled with worn books.The only items of quality in the apartment were the designer suits she’d kept from her time working under Saif—and she’d told herself it was because she needed them for work, not because she couldn’t bear to part with them.
She could almost hear the judgments forming in his mind.
But when Saif returned moments later, a clean and smiling Jayla tucked neatly in his arms, his expression wasn’t critical—it was heated.
“The beds in my house are bigger,” he said, voice low.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t like the earlier kiss—this one was quick, impulsive, but powerful enough to curl her toes and steal her breath.Jayla, impatient and wiggling between them, made it awkward and far less romantic—but that didn’t seem to faze him.
“I think she’s hungry,” Saif murmured, eyes flicking—just once—toward her chest before snapping politely upward.“And I suspect you’d prefer to feed her in private.”
He passed Jayla gently into her arms, his touch lingering for half a second longer than necessary.
“Think about my offer,” he added, walking to the door and pausing with one hand on the knob.“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Then he was gone.
Jemma stood frozen, Jayla in her arms, the scent of warm food still hanging in the air.The toys were still scattered across the blanket on the floor.The television hummed quietly in the corner.Nothing had changed.
And yet everythinghad.
The air in the room felt thinner now.Lacking something important.Like it had exhaled with him.
And that was a problem.
Averybig problem.
Chapter 28
Mark watched with narrowed eyes as the bitch glided out of her apartment building’s parking lot, that smug tilt to her chin, her sunglasses gleaming like armor.She drove that shiny, sleek Mercedes roadster like shebelongedin it—like she’d earned it.The very sight of her behind the wheel of something newer, flashier, and more expensive than his Jaguar made something primal coil and snap in his gut.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned bone white.That damn car was just the beginning.
She lookedcool.She lookedconfident.Like she was somebody now.Like she thought she’dwon.
But Mark wasn’t done.Not even close.
He’d take her down so hard she wouldn’t know which way was up.He’dgrindthat smugness off her face, crush every illusion she had about her shiny new life, and remind her who the hell she was dealing with.
