Snow fell softly over Edinburgh that Christmas Eve, wrapping the old city in a quiet silver glow. Inside a sleek apartment overlooking the castle, Matthias Kerr stood before a grand fir tree that glittered with gold lights and crystal ornaments. Everything looked perfect, yet the silence pressed in on him. He had fortune, recognition, a company that spanned continents but not a single person to share the night with.
He lifted a glass of scotch, stared at his reflection in the window, and felt the weight of a life that had everything except warmth.
The sound of small footsteps broke the stillness. His housekeeper, Ana Morales, appeared at the door in her winter coat. Her six-year-old daughter, Lucia, followed close behind, clutching a paper snowman made from torn magazine pages.
“We’re heading home, Mr. Kerr,” Ana said gently. “Merry Christmas.”
Lucia tilted her head. “Mister, why are you spending Christmas all by yourself?”
Ana’s face went pale. “Lucia!”
But Matthias didn’t scold her. The question hung in the air, honest and unfiltered, slicing through his practiced composure.