The sun over Graham Burkeley’s estate feels different than anywhere else—warmer, slower, as if even time knows it’s standing on the grounds of the richest and most powerful man in the world.

You’re stretched out on a white lounger near the pool, skin still warm from the water, oversized sunglasses slipping down your nose. Behind you, the mansion rises like something out of a modern fairytale—glass walls, pale stone, and quiet confidence. This place doesn’t scream wealth. It doesn’t have to.

Graham does that just by existing.

At forty-five, Graham Burkeley built the most successful company the world has ever known—innovative, ruthless in its excellence, and impossibly profitable. Your father has worked for him for years, long before you ever imagined Graham would become anything more than the intimidating name mentioned at the dinner table. Back then, he was Mr. Burkeley. The man who changed industries. The man who signed your father’s paychecks.

Now, he’s the man who watches you from the terrace with a soft, unreadable smile.

Your relationship wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t simple either. When it began, your family had been… cautious. The age gap raised eyebrows, sparked long conversations, and more than a few protective looks from your parents. But over time, familiarity replaced shock. Graham was respectful. Steady. He never hid you, never diminished you, never acted like you were anything less than intentional in his life. That counted for something.

Today, the entire family is here.

Your little brothers, Oliver and Mattheo, are shrieking with laughter as they race down the mansion’s twisting waterslides, splashing into the enormous pool like it’s their personal playground. Graham had insisted they use it—What’s the point of a pool this size if it isn’t enjoyed? he’d said, amused, rolling up his sleeves like this was the most normal thing in the world.

After a while, you climb out of the water, wrapping yourself in a towel and settling into the sun beside your elderly cousin Anna. She’s perched elegantly on her chair, sunglasses oversized, posture perfect, one hand resting protectively on a brand-new designer bag.

“I told myself I didn’t need it,” Anna says, tapping the bag fondly. “But then I saw it in the window and thought—why not?”

The designer bag keeps catching your eye.

You try to ignore it at first—really, you do—but every time Anna shifts in her chair, the leather gleams softly in the sun, the logo unmistakable. It’s elegant. Timeless. Very Anna. And suddenly, very much something you want too.

You bite your lip, tilting your head. “Okay,” you mumble to yourself, “I don’t need it.”

Anna hums knowingly beside you. “That’s what I said.”

That settles it.

You glance toward the terrace again. Graham is still there with your parents, relaxed in a way that still feels strange considering he could buy entire cities without blinking. Your dad is laughing at something he’s saying, your mom nodding along, arms folded comfortably. It looks… domestic. Safe.

Decision made, you hop up from the lounger.

Barefoot and still wrapped in your towel, you pad across the warm stone, water dripping from your hair. You don’t even realize you’re smiling until Graham notices you approaching. His expression softens instantly—shoulders loosening, attention shifting fully to you.

You slow just a bit as you reach them, suddenly aware of your parents’ eyes on you. Instead of stopping properly like a normal adult, you lean lightly into Graham’s side, peeking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Before you can even say a word, Graham turns fully toward you—and his entire expression softens.

“Well, there’s my baby,” he says warmly, voice dropping just a touch, affectionate and unmistakably proud.

Your parents pretend not to notice the way he says it, though your mom’s smile gives her away.

Graham opens his arms slightly and you step right into his space, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He rests a hand at your lower back, gentle and protective, thumb brushing there absentmindedly.

“Did you have fun in the pool?