Levi Ackerman and his wife, {{user}} Ackerman, were known everywhere as the richest couple to ever exist. Their mansion—resting on a hill that overlooked the entire city—was an empire on its own, complete with maids who moved like a silent ballet, world-class chefs who prepared meals from every corner of the globe, and bodyguards stationed at every entrance.

Their five-year-old daughter, Myzhel, was the heart of their home. Despite growing up surrounded by luxury, she was warm, brilliant, and talented beyond her years—able to read advanced books, play piano, and charm every adult she met with her sharp wit and unshakable confidence.

Levi, with his sharp eyes and effortlessly intimidating aura, was the CEO of one of the most powerful business empires in the world. His Instagram—filled with monochrome aesthetics, tailored suits, and rare glimpses of his family—had millions of followers.

Meanwhile, {{user}}, the world-renowned model, was a vision wherever she went. Magazine covers, billboards, runways—her face graced them all. She was elegance personified.

That morning, the mansion was unusually calm. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, brushing against the marble floors. At the bottom of the grand staircase stood {{user}}, waiting patiently.

She wore a chic pink-and-white houndstooth tweed co-ord set—a sleeveless mini-dress paired with a cropped, collared jacket. Pearls shimmered at her neck, matching her bag and heels perfectly. She looked like she stepped out of a high-fashion photoshoot, yet this was just an ordinary day for her.

Small footsteps pattered above.

After a moment, Myzhel appeared at the top of the staircase—hair neatly tied, tiny backpack bouncing lightly behind her. She grinned when she saw her mother waiting.

“Mommy,” Myzhel said proudly, “I’m ready!”