Max could barely think. Chaos reigned in his mind. His entire world had been changed by a single touch.

“Is she your daughter?” Vivienne asked.

The baby, Amber Rose, happily cooed, stealing a smile from him.

“She is. I don’t need to wait for the results from the paternity test to know that she is my blood.” Max leaned in and dropped a kiss on the baby’s crown. “She even smells like me. I don’t know how I missed it earlier.”

“You were sure she wasn’t yours,” Vivienne said.

Max was grateful that she didn’t add the obvious: he had kept as much distance as he could from Amber Rose. Even when he made the gesture to bring her to the kitchen, he had been relieved that Vivienne didn’t let him.

“I’ve always used protection,” Max answered. “Always.”

“Oops happen.” Vivienne sighed.

“Not to me, they don’t.” Max shook his head before amending, “Until now.”

“How did it work? Is it the same for dragons as it is for werewolves? Did your dragon recognize hers?” Vivienne asked.

Nodding, Max said, “When I touched her, I felt her voice—” He looked at Vivienne. “Not exactly Amber Rose’s voice, but her emotions, I guess. My dragon recognized her as ours.”

“It must be beautiful.” Vivienne’s expression clouded.

“It was. It is. I know that I would do anything to keep her safe.” Any other moment, words like the ones he had just spoken would have spooked him. Now, they felt right. One look at the little girl in his arms only confirmed the sentiment. Max would destroy the world over to protect his daughter. He slowly rocked Amber Rose, relishing the contact.

“Do you have any idea who her mother is?” Vivienne asked.

“Not a clue, but Wilson hired a PI to find her.” Anger rose fast in his chest. “Why hasn’t her mother contacted me? I mean, she thought it was okay to drop her over but not to tell me she was pregnant with my child?” It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe she didn’t have a choice.” Vivienne gave him a sad smile, making him wonder what lay beneath her statement. He didn’t have time to explore that idea because his cell phone rang.

He immediately silenced it, but the loud sound had disturbed Amber Rose, who started in his arms and fussed, ready to cry. He cradled her closer to his chest and rested his cheek on her head, whispering a few soothing words.

“You’re a natural,” Vivienne said when Amber Rose relaxed in his embrace and closed her eyes, resuming her nap.

“Let’s get out of this bathroom,” he proposed, needing something to drink.

Without releasing the baby to Vivienne’s care, he reached the living room where his well-stocked liquor cabinet waited for him. He opened the antique furniture and pointed his chin at the bottles lining the shelves. “Would you like something?”

“Do you have something sweet or fruity to drink?” Vivienne said and sheepishly added, “I’m not into hard liquor.”

“Amaretto for you.” Max freed one hand and grabbed the square bottle for her.

“I can hold her,” Vivienne offered when she saw him struggling with the shot glasses.

“No, it’s okay,” he said.

Max didn’t want to release his hold on Amber Rose. His daughter. It felt right to think of that little girl as his daughter. It baffled him how someone’s life could change in a matter of seconds. Yet, here he was, completely enslaved by this miniature she-dragon.

Juggling the baby with one hand and the rest with the other, Max managed to make it work and poured some Amaretto for Vivienne, and aged bourbon for him. He then motioned for both of them to sit on the large leather couch facing the wall-to-wall window.

As soon as he relaxed on the couch, his cell phone rang again. It was Wilson calling.

“What?” he barked at his friend.

“You better turn on the TV to King Six.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Max put Wilson on speaker phone and grabbed the controller sitting atop a stack of architectural magazines on the coffee table. With one push of the button, a screen lowered from the ceiling.

“Wow,” Vivienne commented.

Max turned on the screen and found the local channel that was known for biased news. A reporter talked about Max, and his face filled the upper portion of the screen.

The reporter, a pretty Asian woman, said, “Amidst a judicial case that could mean the end for Prize Games, another scandal has hit the playboy billionaire. The mother of his daughter was found dead earlier tonight—”

Max’s rumble woke Amber Rose.

Vivienne grabbed the baby from his arms. “It’s okay,” she said.

A roar echoed in his ears as Max tried to keep his dragon at bay.

“Max?” Wilson called.

“Is that true?” Max asked, his voice hoarse. “Is Amber Rose’s mother dead?”

“I don’t know. Stamper doesn’t know either—” Wilson said. “Amber Rose?”

“Vivienne named her.” Max’s mind was pulled in a thousand different directions. “How does the reporter know about her?”

“I have no idea.” Wilson sighed. “A woman is found dead, and the reporter assumes that not only she has been murdered, but definitively assassinated, rather than killed in a robbery. That’s a big leap in logic.”

Vivienne said, “If King Six is claiming Max is a murderer, they need to offer irrefutable proof, or they’re opening themselves up to a major libel suit.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time the channel runs a defamatory piece about a celebrity. They strive for sensationalism to drive their ratings up. They don’t care about the truth and their sources are laughable at best,” Wilson said.

“But how do they even know that the dead woman has any connection to Max, much less being the mother of his daughter?” Vivienne asked.

“I’m as clueless as you are.” Wilson let out a frustrated sigh.

Max’s heart beat fast, his dragon clamoring against his mental cage. “Who was Amber Rose’s mother?”

“I don’t know yet.” The sound of brakes resonated loud from the cell phone. Wilson cursed. “That bitch—”

The reporter had disappeared from the screen, and Louise Dortmund took her place.

“Of course Louise’s behind this,” Wilson said. “I should’ve known that she’s King Six’s source.”

“It’s disgraceful how people with so much power abuse it. We have plenty of faith that justice will triumph, and Maximus Prize will pay for his crimes,” Louise said on the screen.

The reporter reappeared, looking contrite. “We can only hope that his poor woman’s assassin will soon be behind bars.”

Max couldn’t contain his dragon any longer and ran toward the terrace.