Six years later...
A lot had changed.
The world didn't wait for anyone. Not for grief. Not for memories. Not for the warmth that once lived in smiles and laughter.
After the unexpected and untimely death of Gorge—the loyal assistant, the pillar beside Stanley, the man who had practically been family—the corporate world didn't even blink. Life moved on. Or pretended to.
According to plan, the reins of Gosling Enterprise should have gone to Stanley's father. But life, as always, had its own cruel sense of humor. Fate, like a thief in the night, took him too. What followed wasn't just a tragedy—it was a war. A silent, slow-burning war waged not on battlefields, but in boardrooms, whispered conversations, and backhanded deals.
With his father gone, the company was vulnerable. Sharks circled. The board, ever hungry for control, couldn't hide their dissatisfaction when Stanley's mother stepped up. She was elegant, intelligent, and calm—but none of that mattered to them. They didn't want a woman. Not on top. Not one that wasn't handpicked by their own interests. Their smiles were tight, their eyes sharper than knives, and their actions even worse.
But they didn't count on Stanley.
He didn't just support his mother—he became her sword and shield.
He fought. Brutally. Unapologetically. He tore through their politics, exposed their corruption, and pushed every challenge off the table like chess pieces that no longer amused him. His tactics were ruthless. Behind that composed exterior was a mind as sharp as broken glass and just as dangerous. His opponents learned that the hard way. The ones who underestimated him? Gone. Silenced. Disgraced.
It took months. Endless meetings. Countless legal battles. Nights where he didn't sleep, and days where he barely spoke. But eventually, the tide shifted. One by one, the doubters either aligned or fell.
Together—Stanley's brutal efficiency and his mother's unshakable presence—they reclaimed what was theirs.
But nothing came without cost.
Stanley changed.
The once sarcastic, smirking boy who used to bicker with Maverick and tease Natalie? Gone. What remained was a man who spoke with clipped words and smiled like it was a foreign language he no longer remembered. He didn't laugh. He didn't joke. And his eyes—once playful and curious—were now cold, unreadable, and impossibly tired.
His friends noticed. Of course they did. But none of them pushed. They understood.
He had lost everything.
First Natalie… who left without a word. Then his father. And in between, the betrayal and rot within the company forced him to become something harder, colder, and far more dangerous.
Stanley became someone no one wanted to cross. And when they did?
He made examples out of them.
He didn't just win. He obliterated.
CEOs were forced to resign. Competitors went bankrupt. Betrayers disappeared from headlines overnight. His methods were quiet but brutal. The kind of revenge that didn't just sting—it echoed.
His reputation became its own legend. People spoke his name in hushed tones. Feared him. Envied him. Some hated him. Most respected him. But none could ignore him.
And yet, the more he succeeded, the more enemies he attracted.
Still, he never lost.
No one had managed to beat him.
Ironically, he respected that about his rivals—their persistence. There was something mildly amusing in watching them try. Sometimes, when someone dared to challenge him again, he'd give a small, rare smirk and mutter, "At least they've got guts."
And then he'd crush them anyway.
Admiration didn't mean mercy. Not in Stanley Gosling's world. To him, these men were monkeys in suits—loud, predictable, and always underestimating the game they were playing.
Despite the chaos, his life had found a rhythm.
A cold, efficient, and lonely rhythm.
The empire was growing. The threats were shrinking. And the pain? The pain had learned how to stay quiet.
Until she showed up.
It was supposed to be a regular day.
Stanley had just wrapped up a high-level meeting with one of their biggest clients. His suit was immaculate, his tie sharp, and his expression unreadable—as always. His phone buzzed nonstop, but he ignored it. He only responded when he chose to.
He walked into the marble lobby of Gosling Enterprises like a storm in a still room. Everyone stood. That was the protocol. No eye contact. No interruptions.
And Stanley? He never looked up.
He never needed to.
Silence always followed him—sharp, respectful, and absolute.
Until that silence was broken… by tiny running footsteps.
Tap-tap-tap-tap—thud.
Stanley stopped mid-step. A soft weight had suddenly clung to his leg.
He looked down.
And saw the most ridiculous sight of his life.
A tiny child had wrapped herself around his leg like a koala. A chubby, curly-haired little girl with bright eyes, pink overalls, and cheeks that could barely hold her grin.
What the—?
Before he could react, the little girl looked up and beamed. "Daddy!"
Stanley froze. Blinked. Stared.
"Daddy, pick me up!" she said again, arms stretched, voice sweet like syrup.
Around them, the lobby staff almost fainted. Eyes wide, jaws slack. Did she just call him… daddy?!
Stanley stared at the child, trying to compute. His brain rejected what was happening.
Big, sparkly eyes. A dimpled smile. That curly hair.
There was something eerily familiar about her.
He cleared his throat. "You're mistaken. I'm not your dad. Let go."
But the little girl had the confidence of a queen.
"Nope. Mommy said you're my daddy. Mommy's never wrong."
Stanley's eye twitched dangerously.
He turned to his new assistant—Henry—and said coldly, "Take her away. If either of her parents work here, dock their bonus."
"Y-Yes, sir!" the assistant squeaked and hurried over.
But as he tried to gently detach the girl from Stanley's leg, she wiggled and clung like a baby octopus. In the process, something slipped from her pocket and hit the floor.
Stanley noticed it and bent down to pick it up.
It was a photograph.
No. Not just any photograph.
That photograph.
Stanley's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fixed on the photograph.
It was their picture