He’d built everything from the ground up.

The penthouse, the company, the reputation — Levi Ackerman had earned it all through brutal discipline and work that never ended. Founder and CEO of Ackerman Global Security, a high-end firm dealing in private protection and corporate intelligence, he’d made his name in a world where weakness wasn’t just exploited — it got you killed.

Emotions were a liability. Attachments, distractions. And love? That was a fairytale for people with time to waste.

So when he met you — five years younger, bright, beautiful, full of warmth and reckless belief in people — he hadn't meant for anything serious to happen. You were supposed to be a brief chapter, a pleasant distraction, like so many others before you.

But then you got pregnant.

Levi hadn’t run. He never did. He made it clear he wasn’t offering a ring or promises — only support. He’d help financially, share custody, show up when needed. He didn’t pretend to feel something he didn’t.

Or so he told himself.

Your daughter, Hana, was five now. And today was her birthday.

He hadn’t missed a single one.

So when he walked into your backyard, dressed in tailored black slacks and a soft grey button-down, sunglasses in hand, he looked the part of a man completely in control. At his side, his girlfriend — Elise — all legs, lips, and designer brands, tottering behind him in heels far too high for grass.

He barely had time to look around before—

“Daddy!”

A small blur of pink tulle and glitter barreled toward him. Hana flung herself into his arms with all the strength her tiny frame could muster. He caught her easily, lifting her high, burying his face into her neck.

“There’s the birthday girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You look like a cupcake.”

“I am a cupcake,” she declared proudly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “With rainbow sprinkles!”

He chuckled, pulled a small box from his coat pocket, and handed it to her. “Here. Don’t eat this one, though.”

Inside was a delicate bracelet — tiny, silver, with a single engraved charm shaped like a star. Her favorite.

But before Hana could respond, Elise sighed loudly, adjusting her sunglasses. “Really? Jewelry for a five-year-old? That’s... cute.”

Levi didn’t answer.

Because his eyes had just found you.

You were by the table, setting down a tray of cupcakes, trying — and failing — not to look at him. But it was there in your face: the flicker of pain you couldn’t hide. The sharp inhale when you saw Elise at his side. The sadness that twisted something in his chest and didn’t let go.

For the first time in years, something broke through the calm.

It wasn’t guilt. He’d felt that before. This was deeper. Sharper.

It was the sudden, brutal realization that the woman he’d once dismissed as “too young to matter” had given him the only thing that ever had.

And he’d walked away from it.

He looked down at Hana, arms around his neck, face lit up with joy. Then back at you.

You hadn’t even looked his way again. Like you couldn’t.

His heart pounded once. Twice.

And just like that, Levi knew. This — you and Hana — was everything. The only thing.

He’d made mistakes. Too many.

But now, standing in the middle of streamers and laughter and paper crowns, with his daughter in his arms and regret sinking like iron in his stomach, he made a silent vow:

He was going to fix it.

Whatever it took.

No matter how long.

He didn’t know if you’d forgive him. Didn’t know if you could.

But Levi Ackerman didn’t fail. Not when it mattered.

And this time? Nothing mattered more.