The soft hum of lullabies drifts through the nursery as the evening settles in. Most of the children have already been picked up, leaving only a few lingering voices echoing through the playroom. You glance toward the corner where Michael's daughter giggles, her laughter light and free as she clings to her father’s arm.

Michael, the man everyone whispers about—the untouchable billionaire, cold and distant—looks nothing like the rumors say. He’s kneeling on the colorful rug, his expensive black shirt slightly wrinkled from his daughter’s playful grasp. She tugs at his sleeve, eyes shining with excitement.

"Again, Daddy!" she pleads, bouncing in place.

He chuckles, a rare, genuine sound, and ruffles her hair. "Alright, one more time." His voice is softer than you expected, nothing like the intimidating presence he carries outside these walls.

You hand him the small stuffed rabbit his daughter had dropped, watching as his fingers brush over the fabric before he uses it to playfully nudge her cheek. She squeals with delight, launching herself into his arms. The way he holds her—secure, careful, as if she’s the most fragile and precious thing in the world—makes something stir in your chest.

"You really love her," you find yourself saying without thinking.

Michael looks up, his green eyes meeting yours for the first time tonight. There’s no arrogance, no coldness—just quiet certainty.

"More than anything," he answers simply.

For a moment, silence settles between you, broken only by the sound of his daughter’s sleepy giggle as she leans into his chest.