Baby Daddy Roulette

Chapter 40

Selene's POV

I spent Saturday morning down a rabbit hole that would make any internet detective proud.

The babies are at a playdate with another Sirens family—Naomi's doing, bless her—and Axel and Mateo are at practice. I have four hours of uninterrupted research time, and I intend to use every minute.

My dining table looks like a conspiracy theorist's dream. Laptop open to multiple tabs. Legal pad covered in notes. Phone displaying Instagram screenshots I've saved before they can be deleted.

Derek Hollins and Cassian Drummond. The connections multiply the deeper I dig.

Same agent: Marcus Webb, Webb Athletic Management. The agency known for representing "challenging" clients and making their problems disappear. They dropped Derek after the third incident but kept Cassian through his scandal. Interesting priorities.

Same endorsement deals in 2021: A sportswear brand that signed them both for a regional campaign. They did photoshoots together. Appearances together. Built a public friendship that served both their images.

Same charity involvement: The Philadelphia Youth Basketball Initiative, where they served on the junior board together for eighteen months. Fundraising galas. Community events. Plenty of opportunities to become actual friends, not just teammates.

And then there's the deeper stuff. The stuff that required actual digging.

Phone records subpoenaed during Derek's assault investigation last year show regular contact with a number registered to Cassian's management company. Not Cassian directly—too smart for that—but close enough to suggest ongoing communication even after Derek left Philadelphia.

They stayed in touch. They're still in touch.

Which means Derek didn't end up on my caseload by accident. Someone pulled strings. Someone made calls. Someone wanted him here, in my office, saying Cassian's name like a weapon.

I hear the front door open. Two sets of footsteps, familiar rhythm.

"Selene?" Mateo's voice. "We brought lunch. Why does the dining room look like you're solving a murder?"

They find me surrounded by evidence, probably looking slightly unhinged. Axel's eyes scan the spread with that analytical focus he brings to game tape. Mateo just looks concerned.

"I need to tell you something," I say. "About the new player. Derek Hollins."

I walk them through it. The hostile first session. The deliberate name-drop. The anonymous text. And now, all of this—the web of connections that places Derek firmly in Cassian's orbit.

"He's not just difficult," I conclude. "He's a plant. Cassian sent him here to provoke me, document my mistakes, and give him ammunition for whatever he's planning next."

Silence. Mateo's jaw is tight, fists clenched at his sides. Axel's gone very still, that glacier calm that means he's furious underneath.

"I'll kill him," Mateo says flatly. "Not Derek. Cassian. I'll fly to Philadelphia and actually kill him."

"That's not helpful."

"It would be satisfying."

"It would be felony murder."

"Worth it."

Axel cuts in, voice controlled. "What do you need from us?"

"I don't know yet." I push back from the table, suddenly exhausted. "I've been trying to figure out the play. What does Cassian actually want? He can't get the kids—he's not their father, and even if he was, his reputation is destroyed. He can't get me back—that ship sailed and sank and is currently decomposing on the ocean floor. So what's the endgame?"

"Revenge," Axel says simply. "He wants you to suffer. He wants to take something from you because you took something from him."

"His pride," Mateo adds. "You made him look bad publicly. Narcissists don't forgive that."

They're both right. I know they're both right. But knowing doesn't help me figure out how to stop it.

"We should confront Derek," Mateo says. "Directly. Let him know we're onto him. Take away his element of surprise."

"That's exactly what Cassian wants." Axel shakes his head. "If we confront Derek, we look paranoid. Aggressive. It becomes a he-said-she-said situation with no proof."

"We have proof." Mateo gestures at my research. "All of this—"

"Is circumstantial. Photos of them together don't prove conspiracy. Phone records to a management company don't prove anything specific." Axel turns to me. "We need to be strategic. Document everything. Wait for him to make a mistake."

"Wait?" Mateo's voice rises. "While this guy harasses her at work? While Cassian sits in Philadelphia laughing?"

"Yes. Wait. Because patience wins wars, and impulsivity loses them."

They're both looking at me now. Waiting for me to choose a side, pick a strategy, make a decision that could determine whether I keep my career or lose everything.

I think about Derek's smirk. That anonymous text. The years I spent rebuilding something that could be destroyed with one well-placed accusation.

"Neither," I say finally. "We don't confront him and we don't just wait."

"Then what?"

"I become untouchable." I stand, starting to gather my research. "Derek's goal is to provoke me into unprofessional behavior. Lose my temper. Say something inappropriate. Give him something to report back to Cassian. So I don't give him anything. I'm so perfectly, impeccably professional that there's nothing to document. Nothing to twist. Nothing to use."

"That sounds exhausting," Mateo says quietly.

"It is. But it's also the one thing Cassian won't expect. He thinks I'll crack under pressure because that's what he would do. He doesn't understand that I've been under pressure for two years and I haven't cracked yet."

Axel's watching me with an expression I can't quite read. Something between admiration and concern.

"You shouldn't have to do this alone," he says.

"I'm not alone. I have you two." I reach for both of them, grounding myself in their presence. "But this particular battle has to be fought in my office, on my terms. All I need from you is to be here when I come home. To remind me why I'm fighting."

Mateo pulls me into a hug, fierce and warm. "We can do that."

"We can also make Cassian's life miserable in other ways," Axel offers. "Legally. Through proper channels."

"Let's table the revenge planning until we see what Derek does next." I pull back, steadier now. "His next session is Monday. I'll be ready."

"And if he escalates?" Mateo asks.

"Then we escalate back. Strategically." I manage a smile. "I didn't survive Philadelphia and rebuild my entire life just to let him win now. If Cassian sent Derek to break me, he miscalculated. Badly."

Mateo grins, some of his tension releasing. "There she is. The woman who told off the entire Philadelphia organization and looked good doing it."

"I looked exhausted and terrified."

"You looked powerful. There's a difference."

Axel's hand finds the small of my back, steady and warm. "Whatever happens Monday, we're here. Whatever you need."

"Right now I need lunch." I glance at the forgotten takeout bags. "And maybe to stop looking at pictures of my ex's face. It's doing terrible things for my appetite."

We eat on the couch, my research packed away in a folder that will live in my locked desk drawer, the afternoon sun warm through the windows. Mateo makes jokes about increasingly elaborate revenge scenarios until I'm actually laughing. Axel's quiet but present, his thigh pressed against mine, a constant reminder that I'm not doing this alone.

Monday will come. Derek will try whatever he's planning to try.

And I'll be ready.

Not because I'm not scared—I am. But because the alternative is letting Cassian win, letting him take one more thing from me, letting him prove that running away was pointless because he'll always find a way to reach me.

I'm done running.

Time to stand and fight.