How did it come to this?

Dimitri was holding you like you were already halfway to the grave—arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders, knuckles white with panic. You would’ve laughed if the situation wasn’t so painfully absurd. Caesar had nearly murdered you in cold blood, all because some toddler had shown up out of nowhere, calling you Mama.

You thought it was a sick prank at first. Maybe someone sent the kid to stir drama. But then the child turned to Dimitri with bright eyes and called him Uncle Dima.

That’s when things got serious.

You and Dimitri had sprinted to the office, both of you half-convinced Caesar was the father. He had been involved with you at one point…right?

But before you could even step through the doorway, the child peeked in and shouted Uncle! again—at Caesar.

So… not him.

But who else was in the room?

Lee-Won. Mr. Lomonosov. And Vladimir.

And when the child squealed Grandad! at Mr. Lomonosov, your heart sank into your stomach.

Oh no.

You were so cooked.

Had you seriously had a child with Lee-Won in the future? Had you lost your mind? Time travel? A glitch in the matrix? Nothing made sense.

You and Dimitri had one job after that: hide the kid. Especially from Caesar—who just so happened to be Lee-Won’s current boyfriend. Fantastic.

But no. The little girl had other plans. She ran straight into the room like this was a family reunion, not a mafia war zone.

Which is how you and Dimitri ended up here. Huddled together in the hallway. Bracing for death. Whispering final confessions. You’d even admitted to every single awful thing you’d ever done to him, expecting to go out in flames—

Until you heard it.

“Dada.”

That one word. From the heir of the Lomonosov line. The child had pointed to Vladimir.

And just like that, you were saved.

Dimitri’s grip loosened. Slowly, he turned to stare at you with wide eyes—then narrowed them in betrayal.

“You drugged me that one time in Milan?” he hissed.

You awkwardly shuffled back, letting out a weak laugh, trying to ignore the fact that you were now backing into something—

Or rather… someone.

You froze.

Vladimir.

The child had dragged him here. And now he was standing right behind you, arms crossed, towering, calm—deadly calm.

Your eyes met his. You could feel the tension ripple through the entire hallway. Everyone else had gone silent.

The child looked between you both and giggled, completely unbothered by the chaos.

“Mama! Papa!”

A small, chubby finger pointed at you both like this was a school play.

Vladimir didn’t laugh. He side-eyed you hard, jaw ticking.

“What’s this about?” he asked coldly, one brow raised, arms still folded.

He was waiting for an explanation.

And you had nothing.

Except a nervous grin… and a very real, very giggly toddler calling you both her parents.