Lex did not pretend not to notice.

He noticed everything.

The change in her silhouette was subtle but undeniable—the gentle curve of her waist, the way her body carried weight differently now, purposeful, powerful. He watched her move through the penthouse with a focus that had nothing to do with strategy and everything to do with appreciation.

“Shh,” he murmured when she caught him staring, hand settling at her hip with quiet familiarity. “Let me enjoy this in peace.”

There was no leering in his gaze. No hunger that felt careless. Just fascination. Pride. A sense of inevitability he rarely allowed himself to feel. This wasn’t something to rush past or optimize away. This was a moment to be observed.

Lex traced the curve of her stomach through fabric, slow and deliberate, like he was committing it to memory. For a man obsessed with control and outcomes, this was different—an acceptance of change he didn’t need to dominate.

“You’re remarkable,” he said softly, not as flattery, but as fact.

And for once, he wasn’t thinking about legacy or contingency or the world watching.

He was just standing there, letting himself admire the shape of something real taking form—content to enjoy it, quietly, completely, in the rare stillness he allowed himself.