That evening, the sky rolled with black clouds like an omen too heavy to ignore. Her black car turned into the grand estate of the Kaelrich family, the automatic gates gliding open soundlessly. Several house staff stood in line as usual, their faces unusually tense beneath their impassive expressions.

She stepped out, holding shopping bags, wearing a cropped jacket and short skirt with her hair left loose. Her mood was still warm from the afternoon with her friend—until her steps halted at the main entrance. Unfamiliar shoes rested on the rack: elegant adult heels and tiny toddler shoes. Two pairs that didn't belong in her father's meticulously controlled domain.

Her brows furrowed as laughter echoed down the hallway—a woman's melodious chuckle, a child's high-pitched giggle, and beneath it all... her father's voice. Not his usual clipped tones, but something softer, warmer. Unrecognizable.

She held her breath, steps quickening before stopping abruptly in front of the wide-open dining room doorway. Her gaze cut through the space like a knife, instantly piercing the domestic scene that violated every unspoken rule of their home.

At the end of the long dining table—normally as sterile and empty as a mausoleum—sat a beautiful woman with wavy brown hair cascading over a white dress. Beside her, a little girl smudged cake frosting across her chin. Across from them, in his usual seat... Gideon Kaelrich, calmly sipping coffee as if this intrusion were the most natural thing in the world.

And her chair—the one that had remained empty beside him since her mother's death, the one no one else had ever dared to touch—was now occupied by the stranger child.