(Austin Chen's POV)
There are three kinds of pain in this world.
The kind you survive.
The kind you bury.
And the kind you'd burn the entire world to stop from touching your child.
I wasn't always this soft. Not before her.
Not before Ava.
---
The gates of her school are crowded. Rich kids and scholarship kids, chauffeurs, and gossiping teens. I stay in the car. The windows are tinted, the engine quiet. But the matte black Bugatti screams wealth and violence loud enough for me.
I don't do showy. But today? Today the car I chose says: Touch my daughter, and you won't live to regret it.
Phones are already out.
Let them look.
Because I know what they see when she runs out.
A girl with hair down to her knees, in a soft pink sweater, carrying too many books and too much sunshine for one human being. She spots me. Her face lights up like she hasn't seen me in years.
"DADA!"
She runs.
Of course she trips.
Every goddamn time.
But this time—
CRACK.
I hear her knee hit pavement. Her scream slices the air. Sharp. Raw.
The door's open before I know I've moved.
"Ava—!"
She's on the ground. Palms scraped. Lip bleeding. Ankle twisted. I drop beside her, heart in my throat, hands shaking as I cradle her like she might break apart if I breathe too hard.
"I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean— I tripped— my shoe— it hurts, Dada—!"
She tries to smile. That kills me.
"It's okay," I whisper, voice hoarse. "Don't move. I've got you."
My men close in instantly. Alex already has eyes on the kid who ran into her. Someone will take care of it.
Right now, I only care about her.
I lift her in my arms. Her fingers twist into my shirt like I'm the only thing keeping her from drowning.
People whisper.
Is that the CEO of Chen Corp?
He looks too young to be a dad.
Is he her brother? Her boyfriend?
I shoot one glance toward the crowd. Silence.
One look.
That's all it takes.
No one dares speak again.
---
Hours later, she's home. Her ankle's wrapped, lip stitched. Pain meds kicking in.
She still won't stop talking.
"I made Mr. Leone laugh today, Dada! And the janitor said my pigtails looked like twin clouds, and—"
"Are you sure you're okay?"
She beams. "I'm perfect now."
She isn't. But she's smiling. So I pretend to believe her.
She pats the couch. "Sit."
"No."
"Sit."
I blink.
Ava holds up her pink glitter nail polish.
"…Absolutely not."
"Please? Just a little? For trauma healing?"
I stare.
She stares harder.
I sit.
Ten minutes later, I've got bows in my hair, heart stickers on my jawline, and bubblegum pink polish drying on my nails. I've killed men for less.
"Perfect," she says, curling up against me. "Now everyone will know I'm protected by the cutest dad on earth."
I sigh. "Terrifying. The word you want is terrifying."
"Nope. You're adorable. Lethal. And mine."
She grins.
And I don't care about anything else.
Not the empire. Not the blood. Not the money.
Just her.
---
People fear me. My men kill for me. They don't flinch when I give an order that ends a life.
But Ava?
She makes them wear tiaras.
She hands the gardener lemon cookies and asks about his wife. She makes the driver listen to K-pop. She tells my bodyguards to smile more. They do it.
They all love her.
Hell, I love her.
More than anything else I've ever built. More than this kingdom of silence and steel I've spent my life ruling.
She's the only thing in this world that's ever made me weak.
And I'd destroy the universe before I let it hurt her again.