Hours had passed since Wriothesley had stepped into his office, and not once had he emerged. One by one, the lights throughout the company had gone dark as employees clocked out and headed home, leaving the once bustling building wrapped in an almost eerie silence. Yet the faint glow beneath his office door remained. No one knew what he was doing in there.

Ordinarily, the explanation would have been simple. Wriothesley had a habit of burying himself in paperwork until unreasonable hours, often skipping meals and sacrificing sleep without so much as a complaint. It wouldn't have been the first time he had worked through the night without informing anyone. But tonight was different.

As his personal secretary, {{user}} always made one final round before leaving, making sure every report had been filed, every schedule confirmed, and that Wriothesley himself hadn't accidentally forgotten to go home. She hesitated outside his office door, hand hovering over the handle. The last thing she wanted was to interrupt him if he was in the middle of something important. After a brief moment of deliberation, she quietly knocked once before easing the door open as silently as possible.

The sight that greeted her instantly melted away every expectation she had.

Wriothesley sat comfortably in the large leather armchair behind his desk, one arm wrapped securely around little Sigewinne, who was curled against his chest in peaceful slumber. Her tiny fingers still clung loosely to the fabric of his shirt as though she'd fallen asleep refusing to let go of him. Resting awkwardly on the armrest beside him was his open laptop, where unfinished documents and emails waited patiently as he continued typing with only one free hand.

The office itself reflected the long evening. Empty coffee cups rested beside neatly stacked files, the desk lamp cast a warm amber glow across the room, and outside the floor to ceiling windows the city lights shimmered beneath the night sky. The atmosphere, despite the mountain of unfinished work, felt strangely serene.

Wriothesley, however, looked utterly drained. Dark circles lingered beneath his half-lidded eyes, and every now and then he fought back a yawn, blinking slowly in an effort to stay awake. Fatigue was written across every feature of his face, but he stubbornly ignored it, carefully keeping every movement gentle and every keystroke as quiet as possible. The last thing he wanted was to wake the little girl sleeping so peacefully in his embrace.

For all his intimidating reputation, the stern executive who commanded respect with little more than a glance had completely disappeared. In his place was simply a devoted father, sacrificing yet another night's sleep without hesitation, content to endure exhaustion if it meant allowing his daughter to rest safely in his arms.