Chapter 111 The Courtroom was a Memory

Chapter 111 The Courtroom was a Memory
The flashing lights and arcade sounds finally took a backseat when the mouth-watering smell of fresh, hot pizza wafted over from the corner booth. Owen caught the scent, pausing mid-stride near the Skee-Ball machines with Olive still perched securely on his shoulders.
He tipped his head up to look at her, tapping her little knee. "What do you say, sweet pea? Do you want to eat?"
"Pizza!" Olive cheered, instantly abandoning her arcade winning streak.
The logistics of fitting the entire "Olive Green Army" around one table required a little maneuvering. Leona, Diane, Claire, Sarah, Maya, Owen, and Thomas all managed to squeeze into the massive, U-shaped leather booth, keeping Hazel's car seat safely nestled in the inside corner. Because there simply wasn't enough room for everyone, David, Tate, and Ben happily dragged heavy chairs over from a neighboring table, pulling them right up to the outside edge of the booth.
Rather than being confined to a restaurant high chair, Olive was granted a special victory privilege. Owen settled her right on the sturdy edge of the table between himself and Leona.
With a warm piece of pizza crust firmly in her chubby little hand and her bottle of milk resting beside her leg, the toddler completely stole the show. She sat happily kicking her matching green ballet slippers against Owen's arm, munching on her crust. Every few minutes, she would pause to generously offer a slightly soggy, chewed-on bite to whoever was closest.
"Bite, Dada?" she offered, shoving the end of the crust toward Owen's face.
The formidable billionaire CEO didn't even blink. He leaned in and pretended to take a massive, exaggerated chomp, which sent Olive into a fit of musical giggles. She did the same to Leona, Ben, and Tate, perfectly content to share her prize. Between the pizza, her bottle, and the absolute undivided attention of her entire family, the little girl was in pure heaven.
By the time they finally paid the bill and piled back into their waiting town cars, the adrenaline of the arcade—and the exhausting emotional toll of the morning—had completely worn off.
The ride back to the penthouse was beautifully, peacefully quiet. The bright lights of the city blurred past the tinted windows, casting a soft glow inside the luxurious cabin.
In the back seat, with a belly full of pizza and milk, Olive didn't stand a chance. She was fast asleep before the town car even pulled away from the curb. She was sprawled comfortably across Owen's lap, her curly head resting heavily against his chest, her tiny fingers still loosely clutching the edge of his olive-green tie. Beside them, Hazel was equally silent, sleeping soundly in her car seat, while Thomas and Diane watched over their granddaughters with soft, contented smiles from the opposite seat.
Leona leaned over, resting her head gently against Owen's broad shoulder. She reached out, resting her hand softly on Olive's rising and falling back. Owen shifted, wrapping his free arm tightly around his wife and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the top of her head.
Nobody needed to say a single word. As they rode through the quiet streets of the city, the grown-ups were simply, profoundly glad that the day had gone exactly in their favor. The threat was entirely gone. The battle was over.
They were just a family, finally going home.
The two sleek town cars finally pulled to a stop outside the private, polished entrance of the Zenith tower. The city was still buzzing with evening energy, but the "Olive Green Army" was officially running on fumes.
After a round of tight, lingering hugs on the sidewalk, Leona and Owen finally said their goodbyes to Thomas and Diane. The older couple promised to come by tomorrow before sliding back into their car, leaving the Starks to head inside their towering architectural fortress.
The private elevator ride up to the penthouse was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic hum of the machinery.
Once they stepped through the double doors and into the quiet sanctuary of their home, the absolute finality of the day settled over them. They didn't even bother turning on the main lights, letting the glow of the Manhattan skyline illuminate the sprawling living space.
Owen carried a completely deeply asleep Olive straight into the master suite, while Leona followed with Hazel's carrier.
Working together in the dim light, they managed the impressive parental feat of getting a toddler out of her fancy green dress and into a soft pair of footie pajamas without fully waking her. The second Leona pulled the zipper up, Olive let out a heavy sigh and sleepily stretched out right in the dead center of Owen and Leona's California king bed, her limbs completely sprawling out to claim as much territory as possible.
Leona smiled, brushing a stray curl from Olive's forehead before turning to gently lift a sleeping Hazel from her carrier and tuck her safely into her pristine bassinet across the room.
With both girls finally asleep, Owen caught Leona's hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and led her out of the bedroom, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear them.
In the kitchen, Owen poured two glasses of a red wine he had been saving for a special occasion. He handed one to Leona, his fingers brushing hers, and guided her out to the living room. They sank into the plush sofa together, the heavy, exhausting weight of the past few weeks finally, entirely lifting from their shoulders.
Leona kicked off her shoes and curled her legs underneath her, resting her head against Owen’s chest. He wrapped his heavy around her shoulders, pulling her flush against him.
They sat in comfortable silence for a long moment, simply watching the city lights glitter through the floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping their wine.
"That better put absolutely everyone's doubt to rest," Owen finally murmured, his deep voice rumbling against Leona's back. He rested his chin on the top of her head, his grip on her tightening just a fraction. "What we did on that porch... there's no going back from that. Olive is mine, Leona. Just as much as Hazel is. In every single way that matters, she is my daughter."
Leona shifted, tilting her head up to look at her husband. The fierce, unyielding devotion in his eyes was the exact same look he had given the judge just hours before.
"I know she is," Leona whispered softly, her heart physically ached. "She knows it, too. You're her whole world."
Owen’s expression softened, that devastating, heart-stopping smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He reached up, gently tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb, his eyes tracing her features in the silver moonlight.
"I might have built an empire, and I might be a Stark," Owen said, his voice dropping into a low, fiercely intimate whisper. "But you, my love, are the only Lois for me. And I will spend the rest of my life protecting our girls, and protecting you."
He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, breathtakingly tender kiss that tasted like expensive wine and absolute victory. The courtroom was a memory.