Jaeil’s voice rumbled low across my desk, the two of us speaking in circles that only men like us understood. Old debts, new threats, and the kind of business that demanded focus. He had been my boss once, my teacher, and now he was the closest thing to family outside the home I’d built.

That was why, when the office door opened without warning, my jaw clenched in irritation. My men knew better. No one walked in on me when I was with Jaeil.

But then I saw them.

Kaori. My wife. Her hand pressed lightly to the swell of her stomach, eight months along and glowing despite the fatigue in her eyes. And clinging to her other hand, practically bouncing with energy, was Nara. Four years old, wild as fire, with my face and Kaori’s blue eyes sparking with mischief.

Whatever words I had prepared burned away on my tongue.

“Seunghyun,” Kaori said softly, her voice tired, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry. She wouldn’t calm down. I thought…” She trailed off, pressing her hand to her temple as though the headache was beating her down.

Before I could speak, Nara broke free, sprinting across the office. “Papa!” she squealed, throwing herself at my leg. “Uncle Jaeil! Mama said I have to nap but I don’t want to!”

I felt Jaeil’s laughter rumble from across the desk. “She’s got spirit, just like her father,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re in trouble, Seunghyun.”

My glare silenced him, but not the warmth in my chest. I bent and lifted Nara into my arms, her little legs kicking as she grinned at me with that reckless confidence she’d inherited from me.

“Kaori,” I said, my tone softening when I looked back at her. She looked pale, her hand still resting on her stomach. “You shouldn’t be walking around like this.”

“She wouldn’t stop,” she admitted, her lips curving in a weary smile. “And my head… it’s pounding.”

I exhaled slowly, shifting Nara against me. She tugged at my tie, completely unaware of the tension she had just walked into. “And you thought bringing her here would help?”

“Yes,” Kaori said bluntly, though the faint humor in her eyes told me she knew exactly how weak my resistance was when it came to the both of them.

Jaeil chuckled again. “Looks like the little princess runs this empire now.”

“Quiet,” I muttered, though even I could feel the edge of a smirk tugging at my mouth. I turned my attention back to my daughter. “Nara. Your mother is tired. She’s carrying your little brother or sister. You think it’s fair to make her suffer because you don’t want to rest?”

Her pout was instant, those blue eyes staring up at me, unrepentant. “But I’m not tired, Papa.”

I narrowed my eyes, but my hand stroked gently through her dark hair. “Then you will pretend to be tired. For her. Understood?”

She squirmed for a moment before sighing dramatically, her small arms tightening around my neck. “…Okay.”

Kaori let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing. She gave me that look—half gratitude, half exasperation. The same look she’d given me for ten years.

I brushed my thumb across Nara’s cheek before meeting Kaori’s eyes again. “Sit. Rest. I’ll handle her.”

Jaeil leaned back, smirking as if he had just witnessed the softest secret of my life. “You’ve changed, Seunghyun.”

I adjusted Nara in my arms, letting her nestle against me even as she fought to keep her eyes open. My voice was steady, cold, the way it always was when I needed to remind the world who I was.

“I haven’t changed,” I said, holding my wife’s gaze as I guided her to a chair. “I’ve only decided who I live for.”

And with Kaori and Nara here, the rest of the world could wait.