Briony didn’t look up. Instead, she picked up the paperwork and fixed her gaze on Rosita. “Tell Stewart my lawyer will be in touch about the rest of the divorce,” she said coolly.
With that, she turned to leave.
Rosita stood up, her voice gentle and edged with a hint of pleading. “Ms. Kensington, is Irwin with you?”
Briony paused mid-step, glancing back at her.
Rosita’s eyes were soft, almost desperate. “I haven’t seen Irwin in days. Would it be alright if I went upstairs to see him?”
Briony hesitated. She really didn’t want Rosita setting foot in her studio. But Irwin was Rosita’s child. Once the divorce was finalized, Briony wouldn’t even be his legal guardian anymore.
The thought twisted inside her, and she opened her mouth to reply—only to be interrupted by a tiny, eager voice.
“Mom!”
Briony turned, just in time to see Irwin bounding toward her.
He flung himself into her arms. Out of habit, Briony caught him, ruffling his hair gently. “What are you doing down here on your own?”
“Hannah rode the elevator with me,” Irwin explained, snuggling closer. “She only left when she saw me walk into the café.”
He clung to Briony, his small face burrowing into her shoulder. “Mom, why were you gone so long? I missed you!”
Briony couldn’t help but smile, exasperated and fond. This little boy always knew how to tug at her heart.
Their affectionate exchange didn’t go unnoticed—Rosita’s slender frame wavered, her lovely face draining of color.
“Irwin…” Rosita’s voice trembled.
Irwin looked up, startled, and met Rosita’s wounded gaze. He froze, uncertainty flickering across his small features.
Briony felt the tension too. She was just about to let Irwin go when footsteps sounded behind them.
“Rosita.”
Briony turned to see Stewart striding over. He was tall, dressed in a long black overcoat, his expression cold and unreadable.
Without a word, he stepped to Rosita’s side, slipped off his coat, and draped it carefully over her head, shielding her completely.
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