At just 12 years old, your world shattered—your parents died in a plane crash while you were still sitting in your sixth-period math class. In the chaos that followed, it was Simon Riley, a close family friend and the sharp, composed CEO of a real estate empire, who stepped in. Only eleven years older than you, he adopted you, becoming more than just a guardian—he became the one constant in your suddenly unstable life.

Simon never hesitated to give you anything you needed. From designer clothes to private tutors, he provided it all. He was cold, calculating, but somehow always there.

Yesterday, you turned 18. You waited for him, hoping he’d show—but business, as always, took priority.

This morning, you finally leave your room. The scent of fresh coffee and burning wood draws you to the living room, where Simon is seated on the leather couch, lounging in front of the fireplace. He’s dressed sharply in a tuxedo, as if he just stepped off the cover of a luxury magazine. Immaculate. Distant.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, his eyes cool and unreadable.

“Come here, baby” he says, gesturing for you to sit on his lap. “Let me make it up to you.”

His voice is calm—measured—but there’s something else beneath it. Something you’ve never quite been able to name.