Chapter 1

"Mr. Carter, are you absolutely sure about this? Lily is only five years old—"

I cut the lawyer off, sliding my pen across the paper to sign my name on the sole custody agreement. "I'm sure."

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the rain was pouring over Chicago.

I looked up at the skyscraper across the street. On the thirty-seventh floor of the Vance Group headquarters, Charlotte Vance, the CEO, was leading a board meeting.

She wore a flawlessly tailored white pantsuit, her expression icy, carrying herself with the commanding aura of a business queen that everyone in the city feared and respected.

Nobody knew that this woman was legally my wife.

And nobody knew that we shared a five-year-old daughter.

***

It had been three years.

For the past three years, I had worked as her personal driver. Every day, I drove her back and forth, listening to her cold instructions from the backseat: "Leo, take a left," or "Leo, park here."

She never spared me a second glance in public. To the world, we were nothing more than an employer and her hired help.

Lily had learned to call me "Daddy" since she was two, but she never dared to call Charlotte "Mommy."

Because Charlotte had once looked down at her with a freezing gaze and said, "Don't ever let me hear that word in public."

Lily was a good girl. She never said it again.

But I knew that every single night, she would hug that cheap plush rabbit—the only thing Charlotte had ever bought her—and whisper to it, "Goodnight, Mommy. You looked so beautiful today. Will you look at me tomorrow, Mommy?"

That plush rabbit was just a ten-dollar toy Charlotte had grabbed from a drugstore checkout line three years ago.

But to Lily, it was her most precious treasure. She hadn't let go of it for three whole years.

"I'm working late tonight, Leo. You can go home first."

Charlotte walked out of the conference room. She didn't even pause as she passed me, tossing the words over her shoulder as she headed straight for her private office.

I stood up, about to speak, when her phone rang.

She picked it up, and her voice instantly transformed—soft, warm, and filled with a rare tenderness. "Julian? You've landed? Great, I'm coming down to meet you now."

Julian.

Julian Sterling.

Charlotte’s college sweetheart. He had moved to London three years ago, and today, he was back.

I watched her figure disappear into the executive elevator. With a bitter smile, I took out my phone and messaged Lily's kindergarten teacher on Snapchat. "Hi Ms. Jenkins, I'll be picking Lily up on time today."

The teacher replied almost instantly. "Sounds good, Leo! Lily drew a picture today. She said she can't wait to give it to her mom."

Staring at the word "mom," I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest.

Lily had no idea that Charlotte had never looked at a single one of her drawings.

Once, Lily had saved up a month's worth of her doodles and carefully placed them on Charlotte’s nightstand. The next morning, they were sitting neatly in the trash can. Not a single page was missing.

Lily hadn't cried. But she never picked up a crayon again after that day.

I packed my things and went downstairs. The moment I stepped out of the lobby elevator, I saw three people standing in the center of the hall.

Charlotte, Julian, and a four-year-old boy.

The boy looked just like Julian. He was tugging at Charlotte’s blazer, saying in a sweet, childish voice, "Charlotte, can we get ice cream?"

Julian smiled, rubbing the boy's hair. "Teddy, don't bother her."

Charlotte actually knelt down, her face softening into a gentle expression I hadn't seen in years. "It's fine. I'll take you to get some."

When she stood back up, her eyes swept over me as if I were a complete stranger.

I lowered my head and walked past them.

As our shoulders brushed, I heard Julian ask, "Charlotte, it's been so many years. Why are you still single?"

Charlotte didn't answer.

But I could hear the sweet, silent smile in her breath.

When I arrived at the kindergarten, Lily was standing by the gate, standing on her tiptoes to peer through the crowd.

Seeing my car, her eyes lit up, and she waved her little hands. "Daddy!"

I got out of the car and lifted her into my arms. She wrapped her tiny arms around my neck and whispered, "Daddy, is Charlotte coming home for dinner tonight?"

My heart clenched.

"She’s very busy with work today, sweetie. She might not make it."

"Oh." Lily lowered her head, but then she looked up again, her eyes bright. "Then we can wait for her! I drew a picture. I want to show her!"

Looking at her innocent, hopeful face, I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth.

I could only nod. "Okay. We'll wait for her."

By 9:00 PM, Lily was sitting on the living room rug, clutching her drawing, her eyes glued to the front door.

10:00 PM. 11:00 PM.

Lily leaned against my chest, her eyelids growing heavier by the second, but she fought to stay awake. "Mommy... Charlotte will be home soon, right?"

I gently patted her back. "Go to sleep, baby. Daddy’s here."

"But when she comes back, you have to wake me up, Daddy..."

"I will."

Lily finally drifted off, her little fingers still tightly gripping the piece of paper.

At 2:00 AM, the front lock clicked.

Charlotte walked in, carrying the faint scent of wine. Seeing me holding Lily on the sofa, she paused, her eyebrows knitting together. "Why aren't you guys in bed?"

I looked at her, my voice dead calm. "Lily was waiting for you."

"Waiting for me for what?"

"She drew a picture. She wanted to show you."

Charlotte glanced at the paper in Lily's hand. It was a crayon drawing of three people holding hands under a giant yellow sun—a woman in a dress, a man with glasses, and a little girl with pigtails.

Charlotte looked away. "I have an early meeting tomorrow. Go to bed."

She turned toward the master bedroom. But just before she reached the door, she stopped. "By the way, there's a family event at her kindergarten tomorrow. You go."

"But—"

"I have plans tomorrow." She didn't turn around. "Julian just got back and needs help settling in. I'm helping him run some errands."

I held Lily closer, watching the bedroom door shut. I couldn't say a word.

Lily stirred in my arms, murmuring a faint, sleepy whisper. "Mommy..."

I looked down and saw a tear slipping from the corner of her closed eye.

She hadn't been asleep at all.

***