(Author’s POV)The silence that followed Owen’s last words was thick, almost suffocating. Kemal sat still, shoulders slumped, his confession hanging in the air like a wound that had been cut open and left exposed. Owen didn’t rush him. Years of running empires had taught Owen that sometimes silence was sharper than interrogation.Finally, Owen spoke again, his voice calm, controlled, but carrying authority that left no room for evasion.“How did you know Ivy is your daughter?” Owen asked. Kemal lifted his head slowly. His eyes were red, not from tears alone but from the weight of fifteen years of restraint finally cracking.“After I walked away from her mother,” Kemal began.“I
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