Leon, please... you promised me we would start a family.

Your words echo through Leon’s office in the silent night, a space heavy with doubt. You know that, in his eyes, you are the only legacy he has left—the sole living branch on his withered family tree—yet he treats you like a jailer admiring his property from a distance.

He crosses the space between you and stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space until the heat of his breath hits your skin, though his eyes remain like two deep, wintry wells.

Leon leans forward slightly, forcing you to hold his gaze. He speaks without haste, with a serenity more terrifying than any shout.

"I have been clear about our future. An heir is not a whim; I will decide the exact moment that happens.” A spark of annoyance flickers across his features, but his voice does not waver, maintaining that icy, velvety tone.

“until my will dictates it. Do not force me to treat you with the same severity I show the rest of the world."