From Ava's POV
It was just supposed to be breakfast.
That's what he said — "Come down early tomorrow. Just us."
Which, in Austin-speak, meant something was up. Dad didn't make casual plans. Not when he was the kind of man whose calendar could decide whether nations rose or fell.
But I came.
Hair in a braid, hoodie way too big, yawning like the world owed me five more hours of sleep.
And the moment I walked into the dining room, he looked up from his phone and smiled — the kind of smile that made me feel like maybe the sun rose just to see me too.
"Hi, Daddy," I mumbled, curling into the chair beside him, stealing his coffee even though I hated the bitterness.
"Morning, bug."
**
But then, he didn't go to work.
His driver waited. His phone buzzed nonstop. The tablet beside his plate kept lighting up with urgent updates — and still, he ignored it all.
Instead?
He took me to the pier.
Just me and him. No bodyguards, no advisors, no men in black suits pretending not to eavesdrop. Just the ocean, the scent of roasted chestnuts from a vendor, and the terrifying CEO of a billion-dollar empire holding an umbrella over my head while I danced around seagulls.
"You should do this more often," I told him, mouth full of caramel popcorn. "Hang out with me. Be normal."
"I am normal," he said dryly, eyes softening as he handed me his scarf. "It's everyone else that's crazy."
"You bought a missile last week, Dad."
"I didn't use it."
"Yet."
He just chuckled.
**
We sat on the edge of the dock, our feet dangling above the water. I was talking too fast, like always — yapping about my teachers, my favorite manga, the ridiculous math problem I bribed Kai to do again.
He just listened.
Like every single word I said was a priceless stock tip.
And when I started to fall asleep — head drooping onto his shoulder, my fingers still curled around the last piece of mochi — he shifted so carefully, wrapping an arm around me like I was made of porcelain.
"Daddy?"
"Hmm?"
"…Do I talk too much?"
He looked down at me, eyes quieter than I'd ever seen them.
"You could talk forever, bug. I'd still want more."
**
We stayed there a long time.
Just the two of us. No guns. No secrets. No titles. Just Austin and Ava.
Just a dad and his daughter.
And maybe… the rest of the world could wait.