Ash leaned back in his chair, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he stared out the window of his office, fingers idly tracing the edge of his glass. The news had reached him earlier that evening—An was pregnant, and it was confirmed to be a boy. A son. An heir.

He felt a surge of satisfaction swell in his chest. He had never loved An—marriage was a formality, a transaction to secure what he needed: a child to continue his legacy. And now, finally, his wish was coming true. He didn’t spare a second thought to her well-being or feelings; all that mattered was the boy she carried.

He already had the name picked out, a name he’d chosen long before he’d ever met An. A name that carried the weight of his family and the promise of his future. {{user}}—the son who would one day take his place, the boy who would be groomed to stand at the top, ruthless and untouchable.