The lobby of Sterling Global was eighty stories of glass and cold grey marble.

Rain streaked the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the Manhattan skyline.

I squeezed Noah’s small, warm hand.

Beside him, Lucas was already trying to climb onto a sleek leather bench.

“Sit down, Luke,” I whispered, pulling him back.

“Is this where the giant lives?” Lucas asked, his voice echoing in the cavernous room.

“He isn’t a giant,” Noah said quietly, his dark eyes taking in every security guard. “He’s just tall.”

Noah had Alexander’s eyes.

I had spent seven years running from those eyes, but today the running stopped.

Margaret Wells stood behind the reception desk, her eyes widening as we approached.

She had been Alexander’s assistant since the day he took over the company.

She looked at the boys, then at me, her hand freezing over her keyboard.

“Emma?” she breathed, her voice barely audible.

“I need to see him, Margaret,” I said.

“He’s in a board meeting,” she said, looking down at Lucas, who was now tracing a pattern on the marble desk. “But… oh my god.”

“Tell him I’m here,” I said. “And tell him he has guests.”

Margaret didn’t hesitate.

She grabbed her tablet and led us toward the private elevator.

The ride to the penthouse office was silent, save for the quiet hum of the elevator cables.

When the doors slid open, Alexander was standing by the window of his office, a phone pressed to his ear.

He looked exactly as he had seven years ago, only there was silver at his temples now.

His grey tailored suit was immaculate, but his shoulders looked tense.

He turned around, his words cutting off mid-sentence.

His phone slipped from his hand, clattering onto the thick, cream-colored rug.

He stared at Lucas.

Then he stared at Noah.

The resemblance was undeniable; they were miniature versions of the man standing before us.

They had his sharp jawline and the slight wave in their dark brown hair.

“Emma?” his voice was cracked, hollow.

“Hello, Alex,” I said.

He walked forward slowly, as if afraid we were a mirage.

“Who are they?” he whispered, his eyes never leaving the boys.