Chapter 4 - Inside Apartment 3B
The apartment was painfully small, but it radiated a warmth that the marble halls of Vale Tower had never known. The smell of cinnamon tea and toasted bread filled the cramped kitchen area. A worn floral sofa sat against one wall, covered with knit blankets and half-finished coloring books.
The children backed away slowly, retreating toward the small wooden table in the corner where a box of crayons sat open.
Sebastian stepped inside, his tall frame making the low-ceilinged living room feel even smaller. He carefully closed the door behind him, locking himself in a world he had no right to enter.
"You shouldn't have come here," Maya said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if trying to hold herself together. "If Clarissa sees you—"
"Clarissa is history," Sebastian interrupted, his gaze never leaving the children.
Maya let out a short, harsh laugh. "Right. Because a Vale man breaks off a billion-dollar merger because of a sudden burst of conscience."
"I found out about Marcus," Sebastian said quietly, taking a step toward her. "I found out what my grandfather did. Every letter you sent, every phone call, every time you came to the tower... it was blocked. I never knew you were pregnant, Maya. I swear to God on my mother's grave, I never knew."
Maya’s eyes searched his face, looking for the lie she expected to find there. She had spent four years believing he had cast her aside for power, hardening her heart into a shell of survival.
"And now that you know?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "What does it change? Are you going to offer me a settlement? A monthly allowance to keep me quiet in the suburbs?"
"I'm going to give you my life," Sebastian said fiercely.
Across the room, Noah dropped his crayon. The red wax rolled across the floorboards, stopping near Sebastian’s polished leather shoe.
The little boy picked up his dinosaur, stood up on his small legs, and walked over to where Sebastian stood. He looked up, tilting his head with that exact, familiar arrogance that Sebastian saw in his own bathroom mirror every morning.
"Are you the man who made my mom cry?" Noah asked.
Sebastian dropped to one knee, ignoring the expensive wool of his trousers touching the dusty floor. He looked into those gray eyes—eyes that mirrored his own soul—and felt a tear slip down his cheek, the first he had shed since he was a boy.
"Yes, buddy," Sebastian whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I am. And I’m sorry for every single second of it."
Noah studied him for a long moment, then looked back at Maya. "Mom, he looks like my picture."
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Maya covered her mouth with her hand, a sob finally breaking through her stoic defense.
Sebastian reached out, his large, calloused hand hovering gently over Noah’s dark curls. The boy didn't pull away. He leaned into the touch just a fraction, inheriting the stubborn, unspoken need for a father he didn't even know he had.
