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I did something crazy.
One night stands are supposed to be fun, right?
I have a monster inside of me.
Daddy’s Baby is a dark romance with steamy scenes and bad language. It’s only recommended for readers 18+.
Daddy’s Baby is a STANDALONE, full-length novel. No cliffhanger. Guaranteed HEA.
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It’s the sort of party I thought only existed in the movies.
We had to drive for almost an hour before we finally found the place. Nestled on the top of a hill outside of the city, surrounded by rolling green grass, is a big house with white columns and so many windows I can barely count them.
I look over at Morgan and she grins at me. “Told you they’re rich.”
We slowly roll up the driveway in my beat-up silver Nissan Altima. It’s ten years old and practically falling apart, and I feel so totally out of place that it almost hurts. Parked along the grass are expensive sports cars, beautiful sedans, and SUVs that cost more than a house.
A man in a tuxedo jacket waves us into a spot. We park and climb out, and everything about this place makes me feel incredibly shabby as we head toward the front door, the gravel of the driveway crunching under my heels.
“You’re gonna love it,” Morgan says, taking my arm. I try and force myself to smile. Sara gives me a look and shrugs a little bit.
We walk inside the front door and into the party. It’s packed with people in expensive clothing, and I can’t help but notice how most people are much older than we are. Sara and I are in law school, getting close to our last year and the bar exam. Morgan is a few years older than us, but I have no clue what she does for a living. I know it involves a lot of travel and a lot of Instagram posts, but other than that, she’s totally vague about it.
But she’s the reason we’re here. Morgan’s my cousin, and I’m pretty sure she only invited me because I have a car and could drive us out here. As soon as we step in the door, she recognizes someone and darts away from us.
“That lasted longer than I expected,” Sara says.
“I thought she’d jump and roll out of the car to avoid being seen in it.”
Sara laughs and grabs two glasses of champagne from a nearby tray. “To being poor law school idiots.”
“To being out of our element.”
Sara laughs. “Cheers.”
We clink glasses and drink. I catch sight of Morgan drifting off with this gorgeous guy, thick hair, muscular chest, white teeth. She’s beautiful in her dark, form-fitting dress, and I realize that she totally blends into the crowd.
Meanwhile, Sara and I stand out. We’re dressed up, of course, but I still feel totally wrong. Admittedly, I’ve been spending the last four years finishing up law school instead of buying expensive clothing, but still. I can’t help but feel like a stranger, made worse by the fact that we don’t know a single person here. When I asked Morgan about who’s throwing this party, she just gave me her usual vague hand-waving answer, something about a guy in the oil business.
“Let’s mingle,” Sara says, looking around.
“Or we can find the bar and get hammered.”
She grins at me. “You’re driving, you know.”
“No way,” I shoot back. “I drove all the way here.”
“Flip a coin for it?”
“Fine,” I grumble, digging a quarter out of my purse. “Heads.” I flip it into the air and catch it in my hand. I slowly turn it over and groan: it’s tails.
“Ha!” Sara throws her drink back. “Lucky me.”
We drift through the party. I’m feeling a little sour now, since I’ll be going through this sober, and I know Sara’s going to get wrecked. That’s not the worst thing in the world, though.
The house itself is beautiful, modern and sleek. It’s like the house from Eyes Wide Shut, except there’s no orgy going on, although part me of wishes there were. That might be more fun, at least to watch.
Men and women stand in groups, sipping their glasses and talking. I can’t help but imagine they’re all chatting about industry and economics, the men going on about their stock prices, the women talking about the latest designer pant suit they bought from Barney’s. It’s not my scene at all, but there’s a kind of scientific curiosity I can lose myself in. I feel like Jane Goodall studying the apes.
“Here we go,” Sara says, grabbing my hand. She tugs me through another large room, this one library-themed. Old books line the shelves, although I’m not sure if they’re real or not. She heads over to a bar in the back corner, staffed by two blandly handsome young men in white shirts. Sara asks for a gin and tonic and I keep sipping my glass of champagne.
“What do you think the net worth of this house is right now?” Sara asks me, drinking her gin.
“Probably more than most small countries.” I catch sight of a couple wearing matching fur coats, the man with a monocle in his eye, which seems like the most insane thing in the world.