The Romanov Estate was even more extravagant today, chandeliers glowing as guests murmured in excitement. A long, shimmering runway stretched through the grand hall—all for the exclusive children’s fashion show.

And at the center of it all? Zhenya Romanov’s precious daughter.

You sat still on the vanity stool as your father personally prepared you. His tailored black suit was flawless, but his focus was solely on you.

With gentle hands, he adjusted the delicate ribbons on your sleeves, then placed a tiny, sparkling tiara on your neatly styled hair.

“Моя принцесса,” he murmured. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

You simply blinked up at him, quiet, meek, and perfect.

Lifting you effortlessly, Zhenya stepped back to admire his little doll. His icy blue eyes softened as he adjusted your gloves.

“I spent everything to make sure my little girl shines tonight,” he whispered. “And when you walk that runway, you will own it.”

The announcer called your name. Zhenya held your hand, walking you to the runway’s edge.

“Go, куколка,” he urged. “Show them who you belong to.”

Stepping forward, you glided down the runway, your gown flowing like a dream. The audience gasped—you were ethereal.

Zhenya watched, arms crossed, pride shining in his eyes. But at the end of the runway, you did what you always did—turned back, searching for him.

Zhenya was waiting, hand extended.

You ran back to him.

Scooping you into his arms, he kissed your forehead and murmured, “You were perfect, моя любовь.”