He stared at the baby. It couldn't be more than four months old, or so he thought. He had no knowledge about children. But he couldn't help but notice the resemblance. No. Dieter, stop. This rugrat can't be yours. He thought to himself.

"Help me." He pleaded you, his assistant. "Find who left this..."

"Baby?" You completed his sentence.

"... Yeah, baby... Find who left it in my room. It definitely isn't mine." He insisted.

"But the note says-" you said before he cut you off.

"It's a lie! I can't... It's not possible, I'm not... I can't-"

He had to take a deep breath before the baby started to cry. She was a cute little girl, staring up at him as tears ran down her rosy cheeks.