Billionaire Baby Daddy

01. Dara

“Stupid idea,” Jaesang said. He was my boss, a big and intimidating man, standing at six feet five, skin the color of creamy chocolate, and bald. Although much older, Jaesang was ripped with muscles from head to toe and still had a fantastic way of showing a sweet side that no other person could compare to. “It’s late and rainy. Take a cab tonight.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at Jaesang’s suggestion, but I refrained and told him goodbye instead.

My house was three blocks from the museum’s bar, and I usually walked home at night, anyway. As the days grew closer to winter, though, the nights crept up faster and made the evenings darker. Shady people lurked in the shadowed alleyways, and Jaesang had told me he didn’t like the idea of someone as “feminine” as me walking home alone. As much as I thought of myself as a fighter, deep down I knew he was probably right.

I stepped out of the museum’s bar after washing up and grabbing my things, then walked to the curb, hoping to hail a cab. Jaesang hadn’t been kidding about the rain. It was freaking pouring like a monsoon (just my luck), and it didn’t take long before my outfit was soaked and clinging to my skin. The downpour made it too difficult to see two feet in front of me, and I doubted any taxis were going to spot me even if I stood under the lights of the museum. After five minutes of waiting, I grew tired of it. I wasn’t about to spend the rest of my night standing in the rain and waiting for a ride that wouldn’t show.

I turned from the curb and headed home on foot. Not an umbrDara in sight—of course—why would I have one in my purse? What did weather forecasters know, anyway? “Oh, it’ll be sunny without a cloud in the sky.” Tell that to my hair and soaked shirt, Mr. Weatherman.

This is a stupid idea.

My mind already knew it, but for some reason, my legs just kept moving forward. I searched the streets for taxis, but had trouble differentiating them from other cars. I sighed and wiped soaking-wet strands of hair from my face, heading down the street and looking for the quickest way to get home.

What a perfect ending to an already crap day, I thought.

I turned a corner at a light and continued, trying to think of what I was going to do when I got home.

Change my clothes, warm up with a mug of hot coffee, and then immediately head for bed. Sounds like a good plan.

A firm hand seized my upper arm and knocked me out of my daydream. I gasped as I was yanked backward toward the corner of two buildings. The moment was a flurry of blurred images, droplets of rain, and someone’s rough hold snatching my hair and dragging me into a darker place.

From the muted sounds of the rain, I assumed it was an alley.

I cried out in panic—the hand in my hair freaking hurt. I tripped in my shoes, attempting to struggle, and lost a heel in the chaos. Because why not? I was in a B-rated horror flick as the chick who lost a shoe and died. Was this my end? My attacker threw me to the concrete, and I tensed before my head could crack against the hard ground, buffering my fall. I scrambled to get away but nearly ran into a burly figure just behind me.

Although the rain was torrential, I clearly made out the powerful muscles and beady eyes of one of my assailants. I turned around to run but realized I was trapped by the first man who’d grabbed me. He had longer hair that hung around his face and shoulders in a stringy mess. His face was hollow, and his eyes were glazed over and full of … lust. Gross. He and his buddy were devouring my bare legs with their disgusting gazes, and my now-exposed cleavage that was heaving in breathless fear through my thin blouse.

“I told you one would come around.” He bumped his elbow into his muscled partner.

“Give us your money!”