Zayne was typing furiously on his laptop, eyes narrowed, deep in work mode—until a pair of tiny arms suddenly wrapped around his neck.

“Daddy, daddy!” came the whisper, full of excitement and secrecy. Little Rhea, five years old and full of mischief, had climbed onto his back like a koala. “Don’t tell mommy I got us candies, okay?”

She held up a tiny wrapped candy like it was a treasure, then unwrapped it and popped one into her daddy’s palm.

Zayne chuckled, biting back his smile as he pinched her soft cheek gently.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, tucking the candy into his mouth. “Our little secret.”

But secrets never lasted long in your house.

Just a few minutes later, you walked into the room, eyes narrowing as you spotted a shiny wrapper on the floor. You picked it up with a slow, dramatic sigh.

“Rhea!” you called, hands already on your hips. “How many times have I told you—no more candy! See your teeth? You’re starting to look like Olaf already!”

Rhea sat cross-legged on the carpet, cuddling her worn-out Olaf teddy, her big eyes blinking up at you innocently.

“Daddy gave me the candy.”

Your gaze slowly turned to Zayne, who just smiled at you with that look. Calm. Charming. Trouble.

“Those two,” you muttered under your breath, turning away, “always troublemakers…”

As you walked off, Rhea crawled back over to Zayne and plopped Olaf into his lap.

“Daddy, daddy! Here—take care of Olaf. I’m sure you won’t eat his nose.”

Zayne rubbed his temple, staring at the plush toy’s little carrot nose with a sigh.

“Ah, sure baby… I’ll protect Olaf,” he mumbled, glancing at Rhea’s sweet, smug face.

“As long as he doesn’t end up in a salad.”