Page 4 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy 3

She was hollering like she was being killed, and I didn’t give a damn. Glass plates hit the tile and shattered. Chairs scraped across the floor, and somehow, we crashed into the treat table, sending cupcakes tumbling to the floor. Frosting smeared across the tile, making it slippery.

Boom! She fell, and I went down with her, landing on my knees beside her. I just kept punching while she kept screaming. Her mouth was bloody, and I could literally feel my nails popping off my fingers one by one. That shit hurt like hell, but I wasn’t letting up!

“Get her off me! Ozyyyy! Please!!!”

She tried calling him for help, but help or not, I wasn’t stopping. She had been trying me since day one.

Eventually, she managed to swing back, and I won’t lie, a few hits connected, and she even scratched my face up.

Whap, whap, whap!

My knuckles caught her cheek, her jaw, the side of her head while she tried to fold herself up under her arms.

“I’m so… sick… of… your… annoying ass!” I shouted before I felt a pair of strong hands lift me off her. I was still reaching, still swinging at nothing but air, my chest heaving so hard it hurt to breathe.

PB pulled Ginger up off the floor while Ozy held me back. Our hair was all over the place and my fingernails burned like fire. I glanced down at my fingers and saw blood.

There was a woman I’d never seen before, a high yellow chick holding a baby boy, with a little girl at her legs. She had that baby’s head turned into her shoulder with her hand cupped over his ear, and the little girl had both arms wrapped around her thigh.

Seeing those babies watching me, I stopped trying to get out of Ozy’s arms and dropped my eyes.

“Bruh, what the fuck going on?” PB asked, looking back and forth between the three of us.

“I’m pressing charges!” Ginger wiped her mouth and looked at her hand, then started screaming. I rolled my eyes, so over the theatrics.

“Take the kids outside,” PB instructed the woman, and she nodded before Ozy quickly pulled me out of the kitchen through a different door.

Once we got far away from stupid ass Ginger, he let me go, and I shook my head. I couldn’t even look up at him. I pushed my hair back. My whole body was trembling from the inside out now that it was over.

I went to talk, but he cut me off quick.

“Nah, we can’t have this conversation here.” He looked around at the guests, who were being nosy as hell, practically reading our lips with their drinks frozen halfway to their mouths.

He dragged his hand down his face and held it over his mouth for a second.

“Meet me at the guest house.” He sighed. “Just give me a second to handle shit over here, ’cause we definitely gotta talk about all this shit.”

I looked at all the eyeballs on me, then down at my bleeding fingers, and nodded, looking back up at him. His jaw was tight.

“O-okay,” I said, and one of his security guards walked up.

“Sir… what’s going on?”

My mind was all over the place. I couldn’t even remember his name, but Ozy instructed him to drive me over to the guest house on the golf cart, which I was thankful for. With the way my fingers were hurting and how my legs felt like noodles, I didn’t even know if I would’ve made it over there.

“Yes, sir,” the security guard said, walking alongside me, shielding me from any of the guests present in the area. I was so embarrassed.

“Well, girl… the secret is out,” I mumbled to myself, wiping under my eyes the best I could with the back of my finger as I climbed into the golf cart with the security guard.

Imade it upstairs, after telling my assistant to get everybody the fuck outta my crib. PB already had Ginger up there, monitoring her and making sure she kept her dumb ass in one spot.

I’d told him to take her up through the back way so none of the guests or the kids downstairs would see her bloody face.

I headed straight for my bedroom, jaw tight. If that little girl was mine, Ginger had a whole lot to fucking answer for. Noree wasn’t innocent either, but I needed to handle Gin first.

My brother was standing off to the side by the dresser, arms folded, watching her like a hawk while she sat on the edge of my bed with an ice pack pressed to her mouth, makeup smeared and shit.

She looked pitiful.