"Charge!" Millie commanded from my shoulders.
"I'm charging," I said, crawling toward Claire's fortress at an appropriately menacing pace.
"You call that charging?" Claire threw a pillow at my head. "My grandmother moved faster than that."
"Your grandmother hasn't seen my quarterly projections."
She laughed, causing a warm flutter in my chest. And I felt something that I didn't have a name for yet.
We ended up collapsed on the rug, all three of us, breathing hard and grinning like idiots. Millie sprawled across my chest, using me as a pillow. Claire lay beside us, her hair fanned across the carpet, still catching her breath.
"You're terrible at this," she said, turning her head to look at me.
"I'm a CEO. We're not trained for tickle wars."
"Clearly." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—that gesture again, the one I'd started cataloging without meaning to. "But Millie seems satisfied with your performance."
"Daddy's the best war elephant," Millie confirmed sleepily. "Can we do this every Saturday?"
"I think that can be arranged." I looked at Claire over Millie's head. "If Miss Claire is willing."
"I suppose I could pencil it in," she said, and her smile made the room feel warmer.
For a moment, everything was still. The afternoon light slanted golden through the windows. Millie's breathing had slowed, her small body heavy and trusting against my chest. Claire was watching us with an expression I couldn't quite read, tender, maybe. Perhaps with a bit of sadness.
"Millie had a lot of fun. This is nice," she said quietly, almost to herself.
"Yeah." My voice came out rougher than I intended. "It is."
Our eyes held. Something passed between us, not a spark, that would be too simple. More like realization.This is what it could be.This small, fragile moment of peace. This feeling of being exactly where I was supposed to be.
Then the temperature dropped.
"How touching."
Victoria's voice sliced through the warmth like a scalpel. She stood in the doorway, a vision in ivory silk, surveying the scene with the cold curiosity of a scientist examining specimens.
Everything changed instantly. Millie went rigid against my chest, her sleepy contentment evaporating into tense watchfulness. Claire pushed herself up, smoothing her hair, her face rearranging into neutrality. The golden light suddenly felt harsh and exposing.
Victoria stepped into the room, her heels silent on the thick rug. Her gaze swept over my discarded jacket, my loosened tie, and the three of us in our heap on the floor. When her eyes landed on Claire, a slow, cruel smile curved her lips.
"How maternal of you, Claire." The words dripped with false sweetness. "All this playing house." She paused, letting the silence stretch. "Though I suppose when your own mother abandons you, you're eager to practice anywhere that'll have you. Isn't that right?"
Claire's face drained of color so completely I thought she might faint.
At that exact moment, I was boiling over with rage. That information about Claire's mother, the abandonment, all of it was private. She'd shared it with me in the kitchen, in a moment of raw vulnerability. Victoria had no way of knowing unless she'd been digging, investigating, and building a file of weapons to deploy at maximum damage.
"Get out, Victoria." My voice was low and deadly.
She didn't flinch. "I live here, darling. You can't make me go anywhere. Unless, of course, you want to go against court orders.” She let the words hang, savoring her power. Then, satisfied with the devastation, she turned with a dismissive wave. "Do keep the noise down. Some of us have obligations."
She glided out, leaving poison in her wake.
Millie was trembling against me. Claire sat frozen, her arms wrapped around herself, staring at the floor. The beautiful moment we'd built had been systematically demolished.
"Millie." I kept my voice gentle. "Go find Mrs. Lee in the kitchen. Ask her for hot chocolate."
"But Daddy?—"
