et silently treading on the thick Persian carpet in the ha

curtains, illuminating the Lego castle

d falling rhythmically. A strand of black hair

woke up. In this cold, broken world, only this warm little body offered

and his gaze fell on her face. Then

t reached her eyes. She raised her hand, maki

could speak, and he imitated the g

r, came in carrying a glass of warm milk. When she lo

softly. "You should get ready. Your car

helped him sit up, and then guided him to put on

dressed in a custom-made Tom Ford suit, exuding the aura of a powerful corporate

over her as if she were part of the f

bed, lunged at Julian's le

ed. He leaned down and ruffled Leo's hair. It wa

ent on the faint bruise on the side of her neck. Just a m

d, and walked toward the private elevator that would take h

aking a slight hissing sound. The tens

soft, sorrowful sound, and then

and walked to the intercom by the door. After a m

wearing an impeccably tailored dress. She carried a lea

clear and confident voice. "I'

tment, lingering for a fleeting moment on the Jean-Michel Basquiat pain

ously manicured hand. "You must be Mrs

and, but simply nodded

ise, followed by annoyance, before sh

Helen explained, breaking the awkward

not understanding, but judgment. A hint of contempt. She had clearly

r. Ava had seen this expression before-the same curve on th

be at Leo's eye level. "You must be Leo! I've hear

he room, shrank back, pressed himself tightl

briefcase and took out a beautiful pop-u

over her, a chill running down her spine. This woman was more than just a tu

ging slightly, then she shook her head. She whispered in Ava's ear, "She submitted her resume herself, sending it directly to the old lady. Mr.

. Helen, and then turned to walk towards the elevator, leavi

a page in a pop-up book, talking to Leo. Leo wasn't looking at the book; he turned his head to look in the direction