Not the soft classical music the house system played automatically—but laughter. Real laughter.
It echoed from the grand hall.
Alexander frowned. The children were supposed to be in their rooms. The maid was supposed to be cleaning.
He walked silently toward the sound.
And then he saw it.
In the middle of the enormous hall, Maya was dancing.
She held a microphone in one hand, singing loudly and terribly, spinning across the marble floor. Her shoes were off. Her movements were free, joyful, completely inappropriate for a billionaire’s home.
And there—right beside her—were Liam and Sophie.
Liam was clapping, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Sophie had jumped into the air, trying to copy Maya’s moves, her hair flying wildly.
The children Alexander barely recognized were alive.
For a brief moment, Alexander forgot how to breathe.
His first instinct was anger.
Rules were being broken. Order disrupted. This was not how things were done in his house.
The staff would be shocked. The board would disapprove. This kind of chaos had no place here.
The children suddenly noticed him.
The music cut off.
Liam froze. Sophie’s smile vanished.
Maya turned around—and went pale.