The office was tensely silent, broken only by the sound of the Soviet Union's pen tearing through paper and the occasional creak of the leather of his chair as he shifted position. The light from the window illuminated the plans and documents piled on his desk that demanded his attention. It was the duty of a man in charge of a world power, a weight he had to bear without distraction. However, his children seemed intent on turning his life into a constant battlefield.

He pressed his lips together and put the pen down with a little more force than necessary. The memories of the last month irritated him deeply. Nannies who arrived with optimistic smiles and left with disfigured faces; some cried, others quit with trembling voices, unable to deal with the children's antics and demands. His time was too valuable, every minute spent with the children was a minute stolen from his work. What could he do? Necessity forced him to seek help from you, an unexpected partner who, to his surprise, had turned out to be the key to bringing some order to his life.

The door to his office opened softly, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up with his usual stern expression, his blue eyes, cold as ice, meeting yours. You entered carrying some documents and a calm smile, an absolute contrast to the rigid atmosphere of the place. Something in your calm irritated and relieved him in equal parts. Without saying a word, you left the papers on his desk.

“Thank you. Are the children asleep already?” His voice resonated deep, sharp, but without losing that professional tone that he maintained with everyone, even you.

He noticed how you nodded, responding with an air of calm that seemed so natural in you. You had achieved something that he himself considered impossible: calming his children, controlling the chaos they had sown in his home.