I probably looked like a ghost.
Deathly pale. Hollowed-out eyes. So thin I was barely recognizable—like something had drained every last drop of life from my body.
Victor's brow furrowed. For once, a flicker of guilt—faint, almost imperceptible—crossed his features.
He walked over and opened an umbrella over my head. His voice softened, just slightly.
"What have you done to yourself?"
He paused, as if weighing his next words. "Since you're being so cooperative, I won't be completely heartless about this."
He pulled another document from his briefcase and held it out to me.
"I had my lawyer draft a new agreement. Everything I promised before, plus an additional two hundred thousand."
His tone turned magnanimous. "After all, raising Talia on your own won't be easy. School fees, medical bills—it all adds up."
The moment her name left his lips, my heart seized.
I raised my head. My eyes, flat and empty, locked onto his.
Victor shifted under my stare, visibly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and asked casually, as if making small talk:
"By the way, how's Talia been since that day? Still mad at me?"