Kate stood in the villa's garden, watching through the French doors as Karlos helped Berlin into a chair. He was so gentle with her, one hand supporting her back, the other cradling her swollen belly. When Berlin winced—the baby kicking, probably—Karlos immediately knelt beside her, concern flooding his face.
Berlin laughed, placing his hand where the baby moved. Karlos's expression transformed into pure wonder.
Kate's chest ached.
She'd seen a lot of things in her life—wealth, power, manipulation, cruelty. But she'd never seen this. This easy intimacy. This uncomplicated love.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Kate jumped. Mrs Lydia had appeared beside her, also watching the couple inside.
"Yes," Kate said carefully. "They seem very happy."
"My son loves her completely." Mrs Lydia's voice was warm. "When he looks at her, nothing else exists. Not his business, not his enemies, not even himself. Just her."
Kate swallowed hard. "That's... rare."
