Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

41

ADMITTEDLY, A CONTROL FREAK

CHARLES

My alarm clock wakes me up at five, and like every other day, the first thing I do is pick up the envelope tucked in between the various pregnancy books stacked up on my nightstand, replacing my usual productivity reads.

I take out the first ultrasound photo of our blip.

Buried in these black-and-white dots is a heartbeat—a piece of me and a piece of Daisy.

You don’t become a dad until you see your baby. My dad’s words ring in my ears.

“I’m trying, blip,” I whisper before placing the picture back into the envelope.

After a quick shower, I change into black sweats and a T-shirt, ready to prepare Daisy’s breakfast with Mrs. K like we’ve been doing the past four weeks.

I run a hand through my hair, hesitantly going for my phone.

There’s no point in dancing around it. Every fucking day, Chloe sends me a text reminding me how much of a jerk I’ve been to her niece, and I have to remind her to mind her own business.

Filled with forced determination, I reach for my phone.

Now what?

Did my little sister come back to her senses?

That doesn’t sound like Chloe.

I check my phone again in case there’s some problem with the network, but everything seems okay.

Maybe she stayed up late working or watching a movie.

Yeah, that has to be it.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even see Mrs. Kowalski in the kitchen.

“We’re ready, Mr. Hawthorne. As per the recipe you sent me last night, I got fresh raspberries.”

When I snap my head up to her from my phone, her smile drops.

“Is everything okay?”

I shrug, taking the apron from her hands and tying it effortlessly.

“I receive a text from Chloe every morning without fail. But today, she’s silent. It feels weird. I guess I just miss her.” I smile, trying to shake the ominous feeling slowly finding space in my chest.

“Your sister loves you a lot.” Mrs. Kowalski places a cup of coffee before me as I start to read the recipe printout I handed her yesterday.

First thing, eggs.

I’m about to grab the mixing bowl when the doorbell rings, followed by a beep alerting us that someone has walked in.

A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, chilling my skin.

Apart from Mrs. Kowalski, there are only two staff members who have direct access to my house. Dave and Steve. But they wouldn’t be here without reason.

And I don’t have to wait long, because moments later, both of my bodyguards fill my living room, harrowed expressions on their faces.