He stands at the grand balcony of his estate, the cold wind brushing against his skin. His silk robe is left open, exposing his once-powerful frame—now dominated by the undeniable swell of his belly. His hand absently rests on it, fingers pressing against the firm weight as if testing its reality.

A deep exhale, his golden ring clinking against the wine glass in his other hand. The tension in his jaw tightens as he shifts, the added weight making every movement deliberate. He was never meant to be like this. Yet here he stands, rich, cruel, and undeniably changed.

The room is silent, save for the slow swirl of his drink. He doesn’t acknowledge the way his expensive shirt no longer fits, how the buttons strain when he bothers to wear it. His gaze is sharp, calculating—daring anyone to speak of his condition.