The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me

Val wasn't home yet when I walked in. The apartment was quiet, save for the soft purring of Duchess curled on the sofa and Aline quietly tidying up in the kitchen. Normally, I'd have paused to change into something more comfortable, maybe even made a cup of tea, but tonight, my mind was still tangled in numbers and spreadsheets from the day.

Twenty minutes later, the front door opened, and Val stepped in. At first, I didn't register the look on her face. A slight frown, a barely perceptible sigh, maybe she'd had a rough day at work. I told myself that's all it was.

Dinner came and went, quiet and routine, the sort of shared meal that required little conversation because both of us were still carrying the weight of the day. It wasn't until later, when we were back in the bedroom, that the tension became impossible to ignore.

I was lounging on the bed, head propped against the headboard, scrolling through emails on my phone when she climbed onto the bed beside me. Her shoulders slumped just enough to scream ask me what's wrong, and her sigh carried the weight of all the frustration she'd bottled up over the day.

I looked up at her. "I'm guessing something's wrong."

Her eyes met mine, tired but sharp. "It's Lucien."

The moment those words left her lips, I locked my phone and turned fully to face her. Something about the way she said his name made it clear this wasn't a simple complaint, it was the start of something she needed to unload.

"Well, it's… okay," she started, exhaling in a way that made me pause. "There's a particular R&D report… I've been working on it with my team for a while. It passed through the normal chain of command, everything was supposed to be fine, but Lucien… he altered some figures. I mean, he changed numbers that shouldn't have been touched, numbers that could affect the entire department if he keeps this up."

I just listened. My role was simple, be her shoulder, her sounding board. Maybe also silently enjoy the unfairly adorable pout she wore when she was venting.

She continued, a mix of frustration and disbelief lacing her words. "I mean, he's reckless. He doesn't think about long-term effects. If this continues, it could set the department back months."

I kept quiet, letting her finish, knowing that sometimes, the best support I could give was just being there to listen.

Val exhaled sharply, her fingers drumming lightly on the bedspread. "This isn't even the first time he's done this," she said, voice low but firm. "He's been pulling stunts like this for months. Always trying to butter up investors and clients, like he's trying to get them to take his side."

I nodded slowly, taking in her words. It didn't take long for me to understand the full scope. Lucien wasn't just being careless; he was maneuvering, playing politics. Every altered figure, every subtle misstep — it was all a calculated move to sway people, to secure an edge because deep down, he was afraid. Afraid that Val, by sheer skill and intellect, would outshine him. And that's what made this more than just office drama; it was a battle for influence, for control, for respect.

I reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her face, soft and reassuring. "Val… you're doing your part exactly as you should. Focus on that. He's probably just feeling pressured, that's all."

Her head tilted slightly, that familiar uh? look. I raised an eyebrow.

"Pressured?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes," I said with a soft laugh. "I mean, who wouldn't feel pressured if their direct subordinate was you?"

She tilted her head, a soft, almost amused, "Oh."

I leaned back slightly, grinning. "Even I feel pressured having you as my… opponent in the Meridian. Talk less of Lucien."

She let out a quiet giggle, shaking her head. "Well, someone has to keep you on your toes, right?"

I chuckled, "Right. But try not to crush me completely while you're at it."

She smirked, her eyes sparkling. "No promises, but l'll try not to."

I chuckled. "You sound dangerously persuasive when you say it like that."

Her smirk was enough to let me know she'd softened, that the storm had calmed at least a little.

"Naomi called, by the way," I added, letting the subject shift just enough to bring a little light into the room.

Her face brightened instantly, curiosity and delight mixing in her expression. "Oh, wow."

Val leaned closer, eyes sparkling. "How are the twins? Are they behaving?"

I chuckled. "They're probably as mischievous as ever. And Naomi said we should visit her this weekend."

Val didn't wait for me to respond. She practically bounced on the bed in agreement. "We're going. No questions."

I tried to argue, pointing out the ongoing work on the Meridian Project, the opposing offices, the endless spreadsheets and analyses that still demanded attention.

"Val, we'll probably have to work at home anyway," I said, shaking my head. "Even if we try to go visit Naomi, I can't just ignore everything that needs to be done for Meridian."

She shot back. "Too much work leads to… severe brain decay, according to highly unofficial research. We need social interaction to maintain basic cognitive function. And besides," she leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, "I want to see my niece and nephew. You're just lucky I'm including you."

I laughed, surrendering to her reasoning. "Fine. Yes. We'll go on Sunday afternoon."

Her grin was blinding, a mix of victory and affection. Then, softer, almost hesitant, she added, "Speaking of the twins… when are we… going to have ours?"

I turned to her fully, seeing the weight of the question, the vulnerability beneath the playful surface. I wasn't scared of the answer, wasn't worried. But I wanted it to be the right time. "After this project, we'll definitely start working toward that," I said carefully.

She nodded. "Okay"

Her agreement was soft, reluctant, but genuine. The kind of agreement that carried longing and patience all at once.

She tilted her head mischievously, voice soft and teasing, "Do you think I'll look fat when I do get pregnant?"

I blinked at her, momentarily taken aback, then smiled gently. "All girls get a bit… fatter during pregnan—" I paused, noticing her glare and the subtle pout.

I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "But you… you most definitely will not look fat. You'll look perfect."

Her expression softened immediately, satisfaction sparkling in her eyes. "Perfect answer."

I shook my head, half-amused, half-resigned. "You're impossible."

"That's exactly why you love me," she replied, pressing a kiss to my lips. We both sighed into it, the weight of the day melting away.

We lay back, her head nestled against my chest, her hand brushing lazily against mine. "Good night, husband," she murmured.

"Night night, love," I whispered, closing my eyes, letting the quiet and warmth fill the room.

As I drifted toward sleep, my thoughts lingered on her, on us, on the little victories and challenges we faced every day.

I couldn't help but smile softly as her words about the future floated back to me, the names she'd picked out, Justina and Kristen. One day, we'd make those names real.

One day, they'd be ours.

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To be continued...