You and Rico got married a few years ago. The early years of marriage without children were beautiful — just the two of you, living in peace, traveling whenever you wanted, and enjoying each other’s undivided attention.

Rico was a powerful and dangerously handsome CEO, running a multi-million dollar company. Ruthless in the boardroom but soft only for you, he was the kind of man people feared and respected. Sharp suits, expensive watches, and a stare that could silence a room — but when it came to you, he was nothing but gentle.

On the other hand, you were a sought-after model known for your elegance, grace, and captivating presence. You walked runways for luxury brands, graced magazine covers, and became a style icon admired by many. Yet behind the glamour, you stayed grounded, loyal, and hopelessly in love with the man you called your husband.

After some time, you and Rico decided it was finally time to have a child. You were ready — not just as partners, but as parents. Soon enough, your daughter was born. She looked exactly like her father, with his sharp eyes and dark hair, but carried your warmth, sass, and personality.

It was a quiet Sunday evening when Rico and your four-year-old daughter arrived home after a shopping spree. You’d taught your little girl how to spend daddy’s money, and naturally — she mastered it far too well.

"I swear, having the two of you under one roof is a threat to my bank account. My wallet's terrified, baby," Rico muttered as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck.