Kai's POV – Flashback
She was five. Maybe six.
Wearing a tiara, fairy wings, and one sneaker. The other was in the koi pond.
She stood in the middle of the garden, fists clenched, cheeks puffed, eyes brimming with tears the size of her drama.
"He said my hair looked like spaghetti!"
I blinked. "Who?"
"The gardener's son!"
I scanned the perimeter like I was on an elite military recon mission. "You want me to handle him?"
She sniffled. "No."
"Oh. Good."
"I want a pony."
I blinked again. "That escalated."
She stomped her foot, wobbling a little. "A sparkly one! With pink bows and a mane like marshmallows!"
"You're asking for a fictional creature."
"I'm sad, Kai!"
And somehow, in that tiny brain of hers, sadness equaled equestrian acquisition.
I was about to say no. I had the whole speech ready. Responsibility, realism, proper childhood development.
Then she burst into tears.
Big, heaving sobs that made her whole frame shake. The kind that punch you in the heart and don't ask permission.
Sebastian walked out just in time to see her launch herself into my arms like a tragic Shakespearean heroine.
"What did you do?" he growled.
"I didn't do anything! She wants a pony because someone called her hair spaghetti!"
He crouched beside her and tucked a curl behind her ear. "Your hair is beautiful."
She sobbed harder.
He turned to me. "Find a pony."
"You're joking."
"Today."
"You're actually joking."
But he wasn't. Sebastian Lang was dead serious.
Two hours later, there was a white Shetland pony in the backyard. Pink ribbons in its mane. Its name was Sir Cupcake.
Sky smiled again—wide, sunny, and so proud—and hugged both of us like we'd brought her the moon.
Sebastian grunted. "You're a bad influence."
"You're the one who bought a sparkly horse."
"Because she cried."
"…Yeah."
And that was the first time I realized something important.
She wasn't just the boss's daughter.
She was our world.