From the moment he was born, Dylan’s life had been completely mired in corporate interests and calculated schemes. His arranged marriage to Elise was the very first unexpected twist in his life.

No one could have anticipated that Elise would bypass Steven—who at the time had the absolute best shot at becoming the family heir—and choose him instead. Nor did anyone know that it was precisely because of her choice that he had fast-tracked his plan to seize power.

Back then, whenever Elise looked at him, her gaze was unshakeably firm. And within that resolve was a clear, unmistakable adoration for him. It was just a single look, but it gave him an inexplicable urge to protect the unwavering certainty in her eyes.

It was thanks to that gaze that he had become the man he was today––strong, powerful, protective. Everything he had now... was thanks to Elise.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose and locked the ultrasound report back into the drawer.

Just then, the phone on his desk rang with a startling melody.

It was an international call. There was no contact name, but Dylan remembered that specific string of numbers vividly.

He pressed the answer key, and a deep, low male voice came through from the other end—

"We have a lead on what happened back then..."

***

Elise woke up once in the middle of the night and found Dylan sleeping beside her, covered by a separate duvet. The room was incredibly quiet, save for the sound of his steady, even breathing.

The bed was massive, and with their two separate duvets, they slept in positions that completely avoided disturbing one another. The phrase "sharing a bed but dreaming different dreams" couldn’t have been more accurate to describe their situation right now.

She got up to use the restroom, and upon returning, she fell right back into a deep sleep. She had no idea that the man beside her remained awake the entire night.

. . .

By the time Elise woke up again, it was already ten o’clock in the morning. The room was dim, and the pitter-patter of rain outside continued unabated.

Ever since she became pregnant, her sleep schedule had been entirely unpredictable. Mrs. Lander knew this well, so as long as Elise hadn’t come downstairs in the morning, she wouldn’t dream of disturbing her; she was considerate enough to let her as much rest as she needed.

Feeling a bit hungry, Elise freshened up, changed into a loose, sleeveless dress, threw on a thin cardigan, and headed downstairs.

The moment she reached the first floor, she caught Robin’s cheerful voice.

"Daddy, do you think Mommy will like the little bear I made?"

"She sure will."

Elise paused mid-step. The voices were coming from the kitchen. She turned and walked toward it.

Inside, Dylan and Robin—father and son—were standing in front of the kitchen island. Both were wearing aprons, their heads bent low as they meticulously crafted little biscuits. Robin’s face was completely bright with smiles. Elise glanced at the ingredients laid out on the counter; they actually looked like they knew what they were doing.

"Daddy, does Mommy really like this matcha flavor?"

"Yes, she likes matcha."

"But matcha is so bitter! I can’t believe Mommy isn’t afraid of the bitterness."

"When you like something, you don’t find it bitter."

"Is that how it works?" Robin blinked. "Then Daddy, what flavor do you like?"

Dylan’s movements paused. He seemed to think about it for a moment before replying, "I don’t have a particular favorite, but anything Mommy likes, I can handle, too."

"Oh? Is this what you adults call ’the wife sets the tune, and the husband sings along’?"

A slight smile tugged at Dylan’s thin lips. He looked at Robin with a hint of amusement. "You’re so young, where did you learn a phrase like that?"

"I saw it on TV!" Robin glanced at the clock on the wall. "Ah, it’s already ten-thirty! Daddy, we have to hurry up. Mommy should be waking up soon..."

"Okay."

Dylan responded with patience throughout the entire process, his attitude toward Robin returning to his usual gentle demeanor.

Re-experiencing his father’s affection, Robin was visibly in a much better mood. Children were just like that—quick to forget.

And it seemed Dylan had finally realized where he had gone wrong.

Elise withdrew her gaze and walked into the dining room, taking a seat at the table. Mrs. Lander brought over a bowl of bird’s nest soup that she had stewed in advance and set it down before her.

"Madam, please start with this light chicken soup. If there’s anything else you’d like to eat, just let me know and I’ll make it right away."

"I suddenly have a craving for some plain noodle soup. Sorry to trouble you, Mrs. Lander."

"Look at you being polite with me again, Madam. I’ll go make it right now," the woman said with a smile, turning back into the kitchen.

By the time Elise finished her breakfast, Dylan and Robin’s biscuits had just come out of the oven. Clutching a freshly baked little bear biscuit, Robin ran over to the living room to find Elise.

"Mommy, Daddy and I made this together! Taste it and see if it’s good!"

Taking the biscuit, Elise smiled gently at Robin. "Thank you."

Under Robin’s expectant gaze, she took a small bite. The creamy fragrance blended beautifully with the matcha, creating a delightfully crisp texture. The flavor truly was excellent.

Elise stroked Robin’s head, her eyes crinkling into warm crescents. "It’s delicious. You did such a wonderful job, Robin."

"I’m so glad you like it, Mommy!" Robin piped up again. "But Daddy and I made it together. You have to praise Daddy too, otherwise it’s not fair!"

Not wanting to dampen the child’s spirits, Elise offered a perfunctory remark: "Daddy did a wonderful job too."

Dylan had just sat down on another sofa. Hearing Elise’s words, he flinched, lifting his eyelids to look directly at her.