Nigel Foster forced a smile, though inwardly reluctant.

Truth be told, he wasn't keen on handling this case either, but he was obliged to follow his superior's directives.

Placing a document on the coffee table, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

After a moment of hesitation, he broached the subject. "Mr. Wright has established a trust fund for your daughter. If you sign on behalf of her, she'll receive an annual fund of $60 million.”

Continuing, he added, “I understand your family's wealth, but ultimately, children need the support of both parents for their upbringing."

Olivia glanced down at the document before her, her expression unreadable.

After a pause, she smiled faintly and responded, "No need for that. I don't require any shared assistance. The child is mine.”

Nigel, sensing her frustration, awkwardly attempted to reassure her.

“Of course, the child is yours, but she also needs her father."

Olivia's smile dimmed, a reflection of her inner turmoil.

Recognizing Olivia's lack of receptivity, Nigel refrained from further discussion and swiftly gathered his things before heading back to the company. Meanwhile, Olivia remained seated, leisurely sipping her coffee as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Upon Nigel's return to the office to deliver his report, Dylan had just finished sorting through a stack of documents and was reclining in his leather chair, taking a moment to rest.

Nigel knocked lightly on the door before entering the room.

Dylan opened his eyes, noticing Nigel's presence. He shifted slightly in his seat. “How did it go?"

Placing the document on Dylan's desk, Nigel sighed softly.

“It wasn't easy," Nigel began, his tone heavy. “Miss Evans remains resolute. She declined your offer of goodwill."

Dylan's gaze drifted to the document before him, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.

He had anticipated her response.

They hadn't crossed paths for two months since she moved out. It wasn't that Dylan didn't yearn for her or for Leyla. However, he held himself back from seeking them out.

Noticing his expression, Nigel couldn't help but think that he might regret divorcing her. So, he made a point of mentioning it in front of him, saying, “Leyla has grown taller. Last time I saw her, she wasn't walking well, but now she's running around. She's as beautiful as her mother. Oh, and Miss Evans hasn't been in good health. I heard that she's been unwell for the past two months and hasn't been going out much."

Dylan's hands tightened involuntarily.

Sensing the tension, Nigel opted to leave without further dialogue, fabricating an excuse.

Dylan made his way to the French window, standing in contemplation.

It was getting dark.