A couple of hours later, when Stanley returned to his office, he opened the door and nearly tripped over a pile of stuffed toys.
His sleek, pristine office had been turned into a chaotic playroom. Toys, snacks, crayon marks on the coffee table, a juice box stuck inside a potted plant.
His eye twitched again.
And in the middle of it all… Vivi.
Fast asleep, snuggling a turtle plushie, drooling slightly, with the softest smile on her face.
Stanley let out a long breath.
"Henry."
"Yes, sir?"
"Everything that brat ordered today is coming out of your paycheck."
"…Sir, may I ask why?"
"You were the one who left her in my office."
Henry stared at the mess. "Shouldn't the one who gave the order take the responsibility?"
Stanley gave him a look that could burn through titanium.
Henry nodded. "Understood."
While Stanley sat back down at his desk, trying to salvage the rest of his workday, he glanced once at the little girl snoring lightly on the couch. His eyes lingered just a second longer than he meant to.
"Henry," he muttered.
"Yes, boss?"
"Get a blanket. Adjust the AC. She'll catch a cold."
Henry paused.
"Yes, boss."
After a while, Vivi slowly began to stir. Her little eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. As she sat up slightly and looked around, confusion crept into her face. This place wasn't familiar. The colors were different. The furniture was strange. And most of all—it didn't smell like home.
Her tiny hands clutched at the blanket as an uneasy feeling settled over her. For a moment, fear tried to take over.
But before it could grow too loud, a pair of strong, warm arms gently scooped her up. The embrace was firm but safe. A soothing voice—low and calm—whispered close to her ear, "It's okay. You're fine."
The steady patting on her back, the gentle sway from side to side—it all worked like magic. Within seconds, her fear began to melt. Her breathing calmed, and her arms wrapped around the neck of the person holding her.
Still half-asleep, she mumbled in a soft, drowsy voice, "Daddy…"
And surprisingly—Stanley didn't protest this time.
No eye twitch. No loud correction. No scoffing.
Maybe it was because he'd caught that brief moment of fear in her eyes. Maybe it was the way her voice trembled. Or maybe… just maybe… he didn't mind it as much as he pretended to.
He continued holding her in silence. Then, once she was fully awake, he carried her toward the nearby bathroom to freshen up. After that, he brought her back and settled into his chair, placing Vivi gently on his lap.
She didn't let go.
Even though they were no longer standing, Vivi clung to him like a baby koala. Her small hands gripped his shirt, and her head rested lightly against his chest. After a while, in a tiny voice, she spoke again.
"Daddy… I'm hungry."
Stanley sighed under his breath—part tired, part resigned—and without missing a beat, instructed his assistant to bring some fruits and milk. He made sure his "little guest" would be properly taken care of.
When the assistant returned, a tray in hand, Vivi's eyes lit up. The fruits had been cut into animal shapes—tiny bears, stars, and rabbits. She gasped in delight, her smile as wide as her face.
Stanley, noticing her happiness, raised an eyebrow at Henry and said dryly, "I'll give you a bonus."
Henry, who had been hovering nearby, practically beamed. I was wrong… my boss really is the best, he thought proudly, holding back a little cheer.
Once she had eaten, Vivi gently tapped Stanley's arm. "Daddy, can I go now? I want to play with my toys."
He nodded, and she slipped off his lap and ran toward her little pile of belongings. But just a few seconds later—before she even touched a toy—she turned around and rushed back.
Stanley frowned. "What now?"
"Daddy," she said with urgency, "where are my cookies? I kept them on the sofa before I went to sleep."
"I threw them away," Stanley replied flatly.
Of course, he hadn't done it himself. He'd simply asked the assistant to handle it. But Vivi didn't care about the details.
Her face fell in horror. "But there were still some cookies left! Why would you throw them away?"
Without waiting for a reply, she ran dramatically toward the trash bin. Spotting the crumpled wrapper, she folded her hands and bowed slightly, her voice filled with tragic seriousness.
"Cookies… may you rest in peace. I promise… next time I eat cookies, I'll remember you."
Stanley stared at her, completely speechless. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Later, when it was time to leave, Stanley—as usual—picked Vivi up like she weighed nothing, tossing her gently over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
But this time, Vivi resisted.
"I don't like this game!" she huffed. "I want to walk!"
Stanley raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Fine. Then walk. I won't carry you."
With that, he turned and began walking away, his long strides already halfway across the room.
Vivi blinked, then gasped. "Wait for me!" she cried out, and hurried after him on her tiny feet until she caught up just outside the door, next to the car.
Stanley paused, reaching for the car door. But as he did, he hesitated.
There's no baby car seat, he realized.
Should he call someone? Order one? Was it even safe to travel without it?
Before he could make a decision, Vivi took charge of the situation in her own little way. She walked around the luxury car, inspecting it with wide eyes full of curiosity. When the attendant opened the door, she eagerly tried to climb inside—her tiny legs scrambling to reach the seat.
Stanley watched in silence, something tight twisting in his chest.
"She's Natalie's daughter," he reminded himself, almost like a mantra. And finally, he stepped forward and helped her up.
Once she was inside, Vivi bounced excitedly on the plush leather seat. "Daddy, this is soooo soft! I want to sleep here! And this car is soooo big!"
Stanley gave a proud, smug smile. "Of course it is. I customized everything. It's a Rolls Royce."
Vivi looked up at him, eyes sparkling like stars. "Wow, Daddy. You're so cool!"
He didn't say anything in response, but the small, satisfied smile on his face said plenty.
The warm moment, however, didn't last long.
Vivi added, innocently, "Even Mommy has a car like this! But only two people can sit in it… and it doesn't have a roof."
Stanley's smile faded.
His brows drew together in a frown.
A convertible? With only two seats? That's not the kind of car someone struggling should be driving…
But then again, Natalie had always been like that. Prideful. Stubborn. Willing to go hungry before asking for help. Even if she was suffering, she hadn't come back to them.
Stanley looked out the window, jaw clenched.
We wouldn't have turned her away, he thought bitterly. We were her friends.
The car ride home was nothing short of a nightmare—for Stanley, at least.