Third Person's POV
Roman clenched his fists, the corner of his lips twitching as if someone had just spat in his face. Viona's words landed deep, sharp enough to hollow out his chest. He had wanted to speak to her alone, to tell her what he really felt, but whatever stood between them now was too thick, too hardened to break through.
"I just have a feeling they're my kids," he muttered, lowering his head. His gaze caught Viona holding Rafael's hand, calming him. Yeah… she was always like that. And Roman still believed Rafael didn't deserve her.
"And your feelings are invalid," Viona said coldly.
"Oh dear… poor you. You insisted on divorcing me just to be with her, but what will you do now? She doesn't even glance your way anymore." Vivian jabbed from the sofa, arms crossed, watching the three of them like it was a performance on the stage.
She had expected tension when she dragged Roman here to see the children.
