Lombard stepped out of the gate, frowning slightly as he tried to figure out why Abigail had suddenly rushed off like that.He had literally been about to say something to her.Not something casual.Something… almost serious.Hell, he had even been thinking about how it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world for the two of them to have kids together. Not in some romantic, dramatic way—but in a strange, almost practical sense. Like a response to everything that had gone wrong with Mireya.Funny.For someone who had just been cheated on, the only thing still sitting at the back of his mind was building something steady. Something real. A family.And Abigail—out of all the people he had met recently—actually seemed… reasonable.At least, she had.Now?She looked like she was drifting far away from that version of herself.His eyes followed her car as it sped off like she was running from something.Or toward it.He considered going after her.Just for a second.But then he stopped himse

“Well,” the man said after a moment, forcing a shrug, “you’re not what I expected. You must have been doing this for a while.”“Doing what?” Lombard asked, genuinely.“Telling people what they’re bad at,” the man replied.Lombard gave a small nod. “Ah.”The man leaned forward slightly now, like he was finally finding something to stand on.“That’s not how life works,” he said. “If you already have a son and you’re behaving like this, it’s not a good look. You shouldn’t be talking to people like that. You don’t want your kid growing up thinking this is normal.”“Oh,” Lombard said, almost lightly. “So recommending an English expert to someone making over twenty million a year is bad?”He held the man's gaze. “Interesting business philosophy.”“Well, it’s called being rude,” the man snapped.“No,” Lombard replied immediately. “If I were rude, I would have taken your card, dropped it on the floor, and stepped on it.”A pause. “But I didn’t.”Lombard’s voice stayed calm. “So maybe learn th

Lombard jerked his chin toward the salon.“Brought my godson.”His friend followed his gaze.Finn was still across the room, half-panicking, half-dazzled as the girls talked to him like he had just unlocked a new personality pack.“Oh,” his friend said, eyebrows lifting slightly. “That’s Finn?”“Yeah,” Lombard replied, glancing at the boy again before looking back.“Finally saw the dude who made you a godfather,” his friend said with a grin, glancing toward Finn. “What about Elliot? Haven’t seen that man in ages. Business swallowed him whole, I swear.”“Yeah,” Lombard replied lightly. “Badly too. He contacted me and now I have to play godfather duties for his kid.” He shrugged, like it was nothing.His friend didn’t miss it.That subtle shift in Lombard’s face. That softness that barely showed itself.He looked at Finn again.Whatever that kid was doing to Lombard… he hoped it lasted. Because this version of him? This one looked closer to the real Lombard than anything he’d seen in a

Ron was just a kid convinced that if he acted the part well enough, the world would bend to it.And so far?It had.Not a single person in the Belmont family had questioned him.Not one.Rowan almost admired it.Almost.“We will name the child whatever you choose,” Mireya said softly, her voice filled with reverence. “That honor belongs to you.”Ron didn’t answer immediately.He stared out the window instead.Like someone deep in thought.Like someone carrying the weight of generations behind his silence.But inside his head—Something much simpler was running.Rowan had made him a promise.If he played this role perfectly— If he convinced them all—He would get his shot. A real one. A movie. A career. Fame.And honestly?Who wouldn’t sell a lie for that?The car slowed.Then came to a smooth stop in front of a clothing store.Ron knew his role.He was supposed to look like someone who could see beyond what others couldn’t—into something deeper, something hidden, something… untouchabl

Inside the car, the moment the doors shut, Ron straightened up in his seat, dropping the act like it had never existed.“How was that?” he asked, almost eager, his voice lighter now. “That was smooth, right?”He was already picturing it—the recognition, the contracts, the spotlight. This was it. This was how it started. If he played this right, he wouldn’t just act—he’d become something.A star.But Rowan didn’t answer immediately.His expression was flat.Cold.“We didn’t get what we came for,” Rowan said at last.Ron blinked. “What? Lombard?” He shrugged lightly. “He’s tough. Not easy to fool. He saw through it almost immediately.”Wrong thing to say.Very wrong thing.“And you,” Ron continued, completely unaware, smiling a little, “you’re my role model, you know? I think I handled it well—”Rowan’s fingers tightened slightly where they rested.He was holding it in.Barely.Ron kept talking, still chasing approval, still blind to the tension thickening the air inside the car.“You’r