Chapter 94: I Loved Her First
He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, his gaze tracing the features he loved more than life itself. "I couldn't say no to those beautiful eyes of yours the day I met you, and she has those exact same big, beautiful eyes. How could I possibly not love her?"
Owen let out a soft, emotionally ragged breath, moving his hands to gently brush her hair back from her face. "And even if she didn't look exactly like the woman I love... she's mine. And we have the papers to prove it."
Sensing the heavy emotional shift in the room, Olive had completely abandoned her fabric blocks. The toddler quickly crawled across the plush rug, reaching the edge of the sofa, and pulled her little body up by gripping the soft cushions.
She peered over the edge, her dark eyes going incredibly wide. Staring at Leona's tears, Olive's little brow furrowed deeply.
"Momma?" Olive asked. Her tiny voice was laced with an intense, perfectly replicated toddler concern, entirely mimicking her father's exact protective worry.
Owen let out a wet, breathless chuckle, his heart completely overflowing at the sight of his two girls. He reached down and scooped the worried toddler up, settling Olive securely right into his lap as he knelt on the floor beside his wife.
He looked up at Leona, a devastatingly tender smile breaking across his handsome face as Olive immediately curled her arms around his neck, anchoring herself to her dad.
"See?" Owen whispered fiercely, leaning in to press a kiss to Leona's lips while holding their oldest daughter tight against his chest. "She's mine."
"She is yours, Leona," Owen said fiercely. "She is ours. Biology doesn't make a family, we do. And I wouldn't trade a single piece of ours for anything in the world."
The last lingering shred of Leona’s postpartum anxiety completely dissolved, washed away by the absolute truth in her husband's words. She let out a wet, breathless laugh, her shoulders finally dropping as she relaxed fully against the velvet cushions.
"I love you, Stark," Leona whispered, leaning her forehead against his, carefully keeping a sleeping Hazel nestled safely between them. "So much."
"I love you more," Owen smiled, his dimples flashing as he brushed his nose against hers.
Right on cue, the private elevator let out a soft ding, signaling the arrival of their dinner delivery.
Olive immediately dropped her block. She scrambled to her little feet, her dark eyes lighting up as she pointed a chubby finger toward the hallway. "Food!" she announced happily, her toddler priorities firmly in order.
Owen threw his head back and let out a rich, chest\-deep laugh, the heavy emotional weight of the room instantly lifting. He pushed himself off the floor and walked over to scoop a giggling Olive up into his arms, kissing her loudly on the cheek.
"You heard the boss," Owen grinned, looking back at Leona as he carried the toddler toward the kitchen. "Let's eat."
The next morning arrived with a quiet, golden brilliance. The early Manhattan sun shone brightly through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the Zenith penthouse, casting warm, stretching shadows across the plush bedroom rug.
Leona slowly blinked awake, her body heavy with the lingering exhaustion of childbirth, but her heart feeling impossibly light. She rolled over against the luxurious sheets. Right beside her, securely attached to the side of the massive mattress for easy access, was the sleek bassinet they had originally bought for Olive. Inside, baby Hazel was fast asleep, swaddled perfectly in a pink blanket, her tiny chest rising and falling in a peaceful, steady rhythm.
Smiling softly to herself, Leona slipped out from under the covers. She grabbed her soft silk robe, wrapping it securely around herself and tying the belt, before padding barefoot down the hallway toward the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
As she neared the kitchen, the low, rich murmur of Owen’s voice drifted out, mingled with the bright, energetic sounds of a very awake toddler. Leona paused just outside the archway, leaning quietly against the wall to peek in.
Owen was leaning against the edge of the marble island, looking effortlessly handsome in a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, a steaming mug of black coffee in his hand. Sitting directly across from him, perched proudly in her highchair, was Olive. She had both of her chubby hands wrapped firmly around her favorite sippy cup of juice, looking incredibly serious.
"I'm just saying," Owen murmured, taking a sip of his coffee and offering his daughter a very solemn, conspiratorial look. "I loved her first. So technically, I think I win."
Olive let out a string of emphatic, unintelligible toddler logic, banging the bottom of her cup lightly on the plastic tray to emphasize her point.
"A strong argument," Owen nodded in mock defeat, his dimples flashing. "But I think we can both agree that Mommy is the absolute best."
Leona couldn't hold back a soft, breathless laugh.
At the sound, Olive’s head snapped toward the hallway. Her dark eyes lit up with absolute, pure delight the second she saw Leona standing there.
"Momma!" the toddler squealed, her bright, cheerful voice echoing happily through the entire kitchen.
Leona stepped fully into the sunlit room, her heart swelling until she thought it might burst. She walked straight over to the highchair and leaned down, pressing a loud, lingering kiss right into the center of Olive’s messy, sleep-tousled dark curls.
"Good morning, Momma's big girl," Leona cooed affectionately, gently tapping the toddler's little nose.
Then, Leona turned her gaze up to Owen. She leaned her hip against the cool marble counter, folding her arms over her robe. That familiar, playful sparkle—the exact look that Owen completely lived for and could never, ever say no to—danced brightly in her eyes.
"So, I heard part of the discussion, my Stark," Leona teased, a lazy, beautiful smirk touching her lips. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I just have one question. Who loves Mommy more?"
Owen set his coffee mug down on the counter. He opened his mouth, a devastatingly charming, arrogant reply already forming on his lips to defend his title.
But before the billionaire architect could even get a single syllable out, Olive took action.
The toddler popped the plastic spout of her juice cup out of her mouth with a loud, dramatic smack. She threw both of her chubby arms straight up in the air, offering a massive, bright smile that showed off all of her tiny teeth.
"Meeeee!" Olive shouted triumphantly.
Owen's mouth clicked shut. He stared at his daughter in sheer, wonderful disbelief for a split second before throwing his head back and letting out a booming, chest-deep laugh that filled the penthouse. Leona dissolved into giggles, leaning over to kiss Olive's cheek again as the toddler clapped her hands.