Morning sunlight filtered through a crack in the café window in downtown New York. The atmosphere was warm; contemporary paintings covered the walls, and the smell of fresh coffee permeated every corner. Elena sat on a bench by the window in a soft gray coat, her hair neatly tied up. She looked calm. Although she had given birth to four children, she looked even more stunning, her figure still ideal.

A few minutes later, Damian arrived. He looked more presentable than usual, though the weariness in his face was impossible to hide. He stopped beside the table and, for a moment, simply looked at Elena with an expression that was...