737 "You’re too handsome to be alone,” my six-year-old daughter announced in the middle of the executive hallway, staring straight at the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. “I think you should be my daddy.” Every person around us froze, while I stood there absolutely certain my career had just ended.

Three months later.

The annual Metropolitan Luxury Gala was the most high-profile event of the Manhattan winter season. The grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was filled with celebrities, billionaires, politicians, and industry leaders.

I stepped out of the black town car onto the red carpet, dressed in a breathtaking, floor-length emerald green silk gown that hugged my curves perfectly. My hair was styled in soft waves, and a diamond necklace—a gift from Adrian—sparkled around my collarbone.

Beside me, Adrian looked effortlessly gorgeous in a classic black tux. He held my hand tightly, completely unbothered by the hundreds of camera flashes exploding in our faces.

"Mr. Kane! Miss Hayes! Over here!" photojournalists shouted.

"Is it true you're moving in together?" a reporter called out.

"Are the rumors of an engagement real?"

Adrian didn't answer the reporters, but he pulled me closer to his side, resting his hand firmly on the small of my back as we moved into the ballroom.

Inside, the atmosphere was magical. Chandeliers cast a warm glow over the high-society crowd. As we walked through the room, people cleared a path for us, offering respectful nods and smiles. The story of how Adrian Kane had protected me and raised me to CCO had made us the ultimate power couple of New York.

As we stood near the champagne fountain, a familiar figure approached us.

It was Victoria Kane, Adrian’s mother—a notoriously cold, sharp-tongued socialite who ruled the Upper East Side elite with an iron fist. I had heard rumors that she disapproved of Adrian dating a single mother with no old-money heritage.

My heart beat a little faster as she stopped in front of us, her sharp blue eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"Mother," Adrian greeted, his posture stiffening slightly as he stepped protectively in front of me. "I didn't expect you to return from Paris so soon."

Victoria ignored her son completely. She stepped around him and stood directly in front of me.

"So," Victoria said, her voice crisp and measured. "You are Nora Hayes."

"I am, Mrs. Kane," I said, holding her gaze with steady confidence. "It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Victoria reached into her clutch bag and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. "My grandson showed me this over FaceTime yesterday."

She unfolded the paper. It was the crayon drawing Mia had made three months ago in Adrian’s office—the one of the tall man, the woman, and the little girl.

I held my breath, waiting for the critique.

Instead, Victoria’s sharp features softened into a gentle, elegant smile.

"Adrian hasn't laughed like he does with your daughter since his father passed away ten years ago," Victoria said softly, her eyes glistening with rare emotion. She looked up at me, taking my hand in hers. "You restored my son's heart, Nora. And for that, you have my complete blessing and respect."

I gasped softly, tears pricking my eyes, as Adrian let out a long, relieved breath beside me.