A1.Rebecca Sloan set down her blue mug on her cluttered desk, looking at Daniel over the rim of her glasses. Her eyes held the weary skepticism of a woman who had seen wealthy patrons make grand promises only to disappear when the reality of bureaucratic red tape set in.

While Rachel remained in recovery over the next three days, Daniel took an unexpected leave of absence from Mercer Urban Development, handing day-to-day operations over to his senior vice president.

His life became centered around his Cherry Creek estate.

He bought Emma new clothes that actually fitted her—soft sweaters, warm winter coats, and sturdy boots. He filled his kitchen pantry with groceries she liked, watched morning cartoons with her, and sat quietly on the floor while she showed him how Noah smiled whenever she sang to him.

For Daniel, the heavy, dark clouds of his five-year mourning period were beginning to lift. His quiet mansion rang with the sound of a child's laughter and the gentle cooing of an infant.

However, on Monday afternoon, the fragile peace was shattered.

Daniel was sitting in his home office reviewing property files while Emma painted at a small easel nearby.

The front doorbell rang sharply—a harsh, persistent sound.

Daniel walked to the foyer, opening the heavy oak door. Standing on the front porch was a man in his late twenties wearing a greasy leather jacket, scuffed work boots, and an aggressive, hostile scowl.

Behind him parked on the driveway was a beaten-up pickup truck with an oil leak.

"Can I help you?" Daniel asked coldness instantly creeping into his voice.

The man looked at Daniel’s expensive suit, then glanced past him into the marble foyer. "My name's Brock. Brock Miller. I'm looking for my kids."

Inside the hall, Emma walked out from the study. The moment her eyes landed on the man at the door, her face drained of all color. She shrank backward behind a marble pillar, her small body trembling violently.

"He's not our dad..." Emma whimpered softly toward Daniel. "He's... he's the landlord's son. He used to come to our apartment and scream at Mom."

Daniel stepped completely onto the porch, pulling the heavy oak door shut behind him, cutting off Brock's line of sight into the house.

"You're in the wrong place," Daniel said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register.

Brock sneered, taking an aggressive step forward. "Listen here, rich guy. I know Rachel's in the hospital, and I know her kids are here. She owes three months of back rent on that basement unit—four thousand dollars total. Plus, she left all her junk in my dad's building. I tracked her hospital records through a buddy in administration."

Daniel’s eyes narrowed into razor blades. "You bribed hospital staff to locate a recovering woman's children?"

"I don't give a damn about hospital staff!" Brock spat, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "I want my four grand, or I'm calling child protective services and reporting that you've got unregistered kids in your house! I'll make sure Rachel never sees those kids again!"

Daniel didn't flinch. He didn't step back. He stood six-foot-two, his broad shoulders easily blocking the doorway, radiating a dark, lethal authority that made Brock's sneer falter slightly.

Daniel slowly pulled a leather business card holder from his breast pocket, drew out a gold-embossed card, and tucked it into Brock's leather jacket pocket.

"My name is Daniel Mercer," Daniel said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I own Mercer Urban Development. By 5:00 PM today, my legal firm will file criminal charges against you and your father's property company for illegal eviction tactics, medical privacy violations, and extortion."

Brock's face turned pale. "You... you can't do that!"

"I can," Daniel replied, taking one slow step toward Brock, forcing the younger man to step back down the porch stairs. "Furthermore, I will buy your father's apartment building by Friday, fire you from whatever position you hold, and tear the place down to build low-income housing. Now get off my driveway before I have my security team remove you physically."

Brock stared at Daniel in absolute shock. Realizing he was outmatched in every conceivable way, he cursed under his breath, turned, and scrambled back to his pickup truck, burning rubber as he sped through the iron gates.

Daniel took a deep breath, smoothing his suit jacket, and walked back inside.