Chapter 5

I bought a spacious penthouse in the city center.

The money came from what I'd carefully saved during my time with Vance.

But his self-esteem had hit rock bottom. As he led Vivi into our new home, he kept apologizing,

"Sorry I couldn't provide a mansion for you two anymore. And now we're living off your savings."

Before I could respond, he was already mopping the floor, ironing my clothes, and neatly organizing Vivi's shoes by size.

The former corporate overlord had transformed overnight into a domestic god.

He woke at five every morning to make breakfast—not just any breakfast. The man who used to have Michelin-starred chefs at his beck and call now watched YouTube cooking tutorials on repeat, pausing and rewinding until he got the omelette flip just right.

"Vivi, try this. Daddy made bunny-shaped pancakes."

Vivi's eyes went wide. "Daddy, the bunny has three ears."

"That's… an artistic choice."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. This villain, who once terrified entire boardrooms, was now defeated by pancake batter.

But his guilt was relentless.

Every time I bought groceries, he'd calculate the total in his head and wince. If I ordered takeout, he'd insist on doing the dishes "to make up for it."

One evening, I caught him staring at job listings on his phone.

"Delivery driver… warehouse worker… night shift security…"

"Vance."

He looked up, startled, like a kid caught sneaking candy.

"You ran a billion-dollar empire. You're not becoming a warehouse worker."

"Sophie, I need to contribute something. I can't just—"

"You made Vivi bunny pancakes with three ears this morning. That's contribution enough."

He didn't laugh. His jaw tightened.

"I'm serious. I'll find something. I don't care what it is."

The next morning, he left the apartment in a crisp white shirt—the only dress shirt he had left—and came back wearing a blue delivery uniform.

"They said I could start today."

I looked at him. The man who used to wear custom suits now wore a polyester jacket with a fast-food logo stitched on the chest.

He caught my expression and smiled—a real smile, the first one since the rooftop.

"Don't worry. The tips are decent."