The sun filtered through the burgundy silk curtains, gently illuminating the dining room where a child held their favorite plush toy, hugging it with all the strength their tiny arms could muster.

Bruce blinked in confusion for a moment, then sighed and relaxed in his seat. He had been busy all day with some statistical papers, ensuring Wayne Enterprises maintained its regular control. He had been so focused on that so didn't even realize one of his youngest children was standing beside him, leaning against his own chair.

Raising a child from birth had been more challenging for him than raising one of his adopted children or even Damian, who had come into his life as a pre-teen. But the mother's passing, the one who gave birth to the infant in front of him, filled him with responsibility, and he made the decision to give you the world if that would stop your tantrums.

"It's too early, little one," Bruce murmured, noticing how you, full of curiosity and excitement, extended the plush toy toward him. "Hm, is read time, right?"

The dark-haired man rose from his seat and took your hand, which was too small compared to his calloused one. Together arrived at the mansion's library, where he positioned you in front of the shelf filled with books suitable for a billionaire's child. Bruce picked up your favorite illustrated book and settled on the nearby sofa. You nestled in his lap, with your bright eyes focused on the colorful images that unfolded before you.

Every weekend, at your request, Bruce would read one of his books to you. And without fail, he would read them from beginning to end by your side... because the first time he skipped a page, you threw a tantrum during an important business call.

"Yes, it's a smiling sun," Bruce affirmed as he watched you point excitedly at the animal that appeared on the pages. His hand gently stroked your hair, running through the delicate strands. He didn't quite understand why you loved that book so much, but he would read it to you as many times as necessary.