Years later, laughter echoed through the mansion.
A little girl with dark curls and bright, mischievous eyes ran down the long hallway, her tiny feet padding against the marble floor.
"Papa!" she yelled happily.
Damian turned just in time before she crashed into him. He bent down and scooped her up effortlessly, lifting her high in the air.
"There's my little storm," he said, kissing her cheek. "Did you miss Daddy?"
"Yes!" she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Then she pulled back suddenly, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Did you get me ice cream?"
Damian chuckled. "Of course, my princess. Do you think I would dare come home without it?"
Her face lit up. "And the pink pony?"
"I bought the pony."
"And the sparkly helmet?"
"Custom-made."
"And the dollhouse with lights?"
He sighed dramatically. "Ordered. Being delivered."
Sofia clapped her hands happily. "I love you, Papa!" "You're the best papa!"
