I smiled. It was the same smile I wore during high-stakes contract negotiations. “Thank you, Mike,” I said, my voice steady, devoid of the chaos burning in my gut. “A legacy is exactly what we’re here to discuss today.”

I looked at Sarah. She beamed at me, rubbing her belly possessively. It was a masterclass in manipulation. Five months ago, when she sat me down, tears in her eyes, to tell me the “miracle” had happened, I hadn’t said a word. I had just hugged her. A cold, mechanical embrace, while my mind was already drafting blueprints.

Because I knew.

I had known since I was twenty years old. A brutal case of mumps followed by severe orchitis had left me completely, irrevocably ster