Chapter 98: The Manhattan Skyline Seen by a Toddler

Thomas’s face completely melted. The hardened CEO vanished without a trace. "Is that right?" he murmured, looking back down at the vibrant little girl in his arms.

Without hesitating for a single second, the ruthless billionaire turned and carried his granddaughter right over to the glass.

What followed was a surreal, entirely heartwarming scene. Owen immediately walked over, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his father. Leona joined them, leaning her head warmly against Owen's arm as they all looked out over the city. Even Vance, with his lethal legal mind and billion-dollar billing rate, couldn't help but slowly walk over, completely abandoning his briefcase to stand at the edge of the family circle.

For the next five minutes, the four adults stood in absolute, respectful silence as a very animated, highly opinionated toddler gave them a passionate masterclass on the Manhattan skyline.

Olive slapped her little hand flat against the glass, pointing directly at the steel skeleton of a new high-rise a few blocks over. She let out a string of emphatic, completely unintelligible gibberish, her dark eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. She paused, looking back over her shoulder at her captive audience to ensure they were all following along, before pointing at a distant suspension bridge and continuing her vigorous lecture.

Thomas nodded along with grave, absolute seriousness, reaching up to thoughtfully stroke his chin. "A brilliant point about the load-bearing columns on the east elevation, sweetheart," he rumbled softly, playing right along.

Beside him, Owen bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing, his chest swelling with an impossible amount of pride.

Vance actually let out a quiet, entirely uncharacteristic snort of amusement. The high-powered lawyer just shook his head at the sheer, undeniable power this tiny, messy-haired girl held over the most formidable, dangerous men in the city.

The heavy, terrifying shadow of the lawsuit had completely lifted, entirely chased away by the bright, unstoppable light of Olive Stark. They were untouchable.

The fragile peace they had built over the last few weeks was entirely shattered on a random Tuesday evening.

Owen had just walked through the doors of the penthouse, exhausted from a grueling day of back-to-back meetings at the firm. He had immediately discarded his suit jacket, loosened his silk tie, and collapsed onto the deep cushions of the living room sofa. With a deeply contented sigh, he had pulled a sleeping Hazel into his arms, while a very energetic Olive immediately scrambled up onto the cushions to sit right beside him. It was supposed to be a perfect, quiet evening.

But then Leona opened the certified mail that the concierge had sent up minutes before he arrived.

It was an official summons from the family court. Tiffany’s parents had formally petitioned a judge, demanding that "the minor in question" be brought into the courtroom for a visual inspection to ensure their grandchild was being "properly taken care of."

Leona was absolutely livid.

She was practically ready to tear the penthouse apart with her bare hands, fiercely stomping from one end of the sprawling living room to the other. She was a mother lion whose cub was being threatened, and the sheer, unadulterated rage radiating off of her was palpable.

She spun around on her heel, her dark eyes blazing with fire as she glared at the piece of paper in her hand. She threw her fists down aggressively at her sides, letting out a sound of pure frustration.

"They want to see our daughter, Stark," Leona growled, her voice vibrating with a lethal, protective edge. "They actually think a judge is going to force us to parade her in front of them so they can pretend to care!"

From her spot on the sofa right next to Owen, Olive was watching her mother's intense pacing like it was the greatest show on earth. The toddler had absolutely no idea what a court summons was, but she perfectly understood the physical assignment.

Mimicking her mother’s fierce stance, Olive scrunched her little face up into a dramatic scowl. She threw her own chubby little fists down, aggressively thumping them against the velvet sofa cushions.

"Errrrr!" Olive growled back at her, matching Leona's volume perfectly, before immediately dissolving into a bright, musical fit of toddler giggles.

Leona froze mid-stomp. The heavy, suffocating blanket of her maternal fury was instantly pierced by the sound of that bright laugh. She looked over at the sofa, watching the tiny, messy-haired girl aggressively pounding the cushions with a massive, gap-toothed smile on her face.

The burning anger in Leona’s eyes melted in a fraction of a second. A helpless, breathy laugh broke past her lips, and a completely genuine smile washed over her face. Her shoulders dropped as the tension drained out of her.

"Look," Leona sighed, shaking her head as she walked over to the sofa. "Look what they're doing. They have me turning our daughter into the Hulk."

Owen’s chest rumbled with a deep, rich chuckle. He was leaning back against the cushions, holding a blissfully sleeping Hazel against his chest, while watching the two women who completely owned his heart.

"Well, she makes a very beautiful, very intimidating Hulk," Owen murmured, his dimples flashing as he reached out with his free hand to gently tug on one of Olive’s dark curls.

His smile lingered for a moment as he looked at his girls, but as his storm-gray eyes shifted back to the legal document still clenched tightly in Leona's hand, his expression hardened into pure, unyielding Zenith steel.

"But you don't need to smash anything, Leo," Owen promised, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly calm register. "Because Olive isn't stepping a single foot inside that courthouse. I don't care what that piece of paper demands. Vance is going to stand in front of that judge, drop our mountain of evidence on the bench, and make sure those two never legally utter our daughter's name again."

Leona abruptly stopped pacing. The frantic, terrified energy that had been vibrating through her body suddenly vanished, entirely replaced by a cold, tactical, and utterly lethal calm. She looked down at the court summons in her hand, and then up at her husband.