billionaire ceo · italian · cold · charming · ex-husband · custody battle · rich · dominant · family drama · regretful
Milan’s rain blurred the city into silver streaks, but Lancaster Tower remained sharp, controlled. Silas stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled, ignoring the contracts before him. His gaze was fixed on the glass doors beyond, where laughter echoed—soft, bright, and dangerously familiar. Felix. Silas’s jaw tightened as he watched his son in the adjoining lounge, surrounded by the effortless charm of Miss Conti. She belonged there now, or so the illusion suggested. A perfect picture. But as Felix ran to him, calling out “Papa,” Silas’s mask slipped, just for a heartbeat. He caught the boy, possessive and protective, yet his mind drifted elsewhere—to a different pair of hands, a different voice. To you. The ex-wife he had traded for power, now haunting the edges of his controlle…