Leon stood frozen. His cheek was flaming, a vivid, angry red where the heavy sapphire of her ring had grazed his skin.
The silence that followed was suffocating. It wasn't just the physical sting of the slap that had paralyzed him; it was the mirror she had forced him to look into. He saw himself clearly now—the image of a man who had traded his wife's soul to pay for his own peace of mind.
Olivia let out a deep, weary sigh, the fire in her eyes dimming into a heavy exhaustion. "I'm not sorry for striking you, Leon. God knows you needed to feel something." She straightened her posture, regaining her regal poise. "Now, I want an answer—and spare me the talk of legacies and conditions. Look me in the eye and tell me: Do you want that child?"
The room seemed to hold its breath. Leon finally lifted his gaze, fixing it on Olivia's eyes with a raw, unvarnished honesty that made him look younger, and far more broken.
