Page 59 of My Ex’s Dad

Anton steps forward. It’s nothing more than a half-step in front of me, but it reads like a defensive move.

I haven’t rehearsed what to say. Secretly, I’ve indulged in fantasies of telling him off. Of laughing in his face and hitting him with some sassy line about how far I’ve moved on.

Nothing comes to me though, because behind him is a woman who has to be his mother.

The infamous Elena that Roman’s always praised and talked so highly of. I’ve never met her, but by the furious stare she shoots my way, I know this is going to turn into a disaster.

Anton takes charge though.

“Do you really think it’s wise to use that tone on my date?” Anton asks. He doesn’t give Roman a chance to reply. Instead, he grips my chin gently, tips my face up, and plants a sweet but possessive kiss on my lips.

It’s a demonstration.

He’s claiming me.

Marking his territory.

And I can’t resist a smile. I should be pissed at him using me like this, but in my heart, I know that’s not it. He didn’t bring me here as a trophy or as an example of anything. With his hot lips against mine, his hand on my back, and his baby in my belly, I feel this connection that has morphed from instant attraction into something so much more.

His soft sigh as he pulls away proves it. The look of longing and smug satisfaction on his face reinforces it.

This is what Jenni was talking about.

Anton is like my prince charming. Only, he’s not a prince; not a fairytale. He’s a king. A real man who wants me.

“Anton. Darling⁠—”

Viktor cuts off Elena as she sweeps up close. He blocks Roman’s mother from clinging to Anton’s arm. A laugh slips out of me as Anton pivots, ushering me away.

“Handy,” I quip as he takes my hand and leads me deeper into the room.

“What is?”

“Having an assistant as a roadblock.”

He smirks and glances at me. “It’s only effective for so long.”

“Is she always like that?”

“If you mean is she always acting like she still has any claim to me, yes.” He stops abruptly and spins me into an embrace. “But perhaps the more I do this”—he kisses me, clearly thawing out enough to keep up these public displays of affection—“she’ll finally get the hint.”

“Glad I can help.” I grin as I sling my arm around his neck and pull him back down for a longer kiss.

That’s how we spend the night. Together, no matter what.

We mingle, where I don’t offer much to these strangers he associates with. But I’m there, with him, as he holds my hand and introduces me like I’m his equal.

We eat, where I think up all the ways I could use some kind of ice-breaker to let him know that I’m pregnant. But too many people interrupt to make small talk with him.

We dance, slowly and stubbornly addicted to each other. It’s a slow tease of how I want to feel all of him again, tonight.

It is a magical night. At no point do I get over the sensation of feeling like I’ll never belong in this world. But I’m also spared the worry of whether I measure up.

“He never brought her to anything.”

I glance up when I’m in the restroom, checking my reflection in the mirror. Elena’s voice comes from a stall, and I tense at her critique of me. She can only be talking about me. Because each time I caught a glimpse of her throughout the night, she was glaring at me with hatred.

“Roman never brought that fat little slut to anything because she wasn’t worthy of his attention. Anton’s only using her as a way to make me try harder. That’s all it is. She can’t mean anything to him. He’s just teasing me. Challenging me to work harder at getting his attention back.”