“Marry Me and I’ll Help Raise Your Daughters” — Billionaire to Single Dad, His Daughter Said…
Chapter 3
The wedding was planned for three weeks later.
Victoria’s team wanted something huge.
Flowers from Europe.
Private security.
A guest list filled with CEOs, politicians, celebrities, and royalty.
I wanted a courthouse.
Victoria wanted something in between.
We compromised.
A small ceremony at her grandmother’s estate.
No press.
No investors.
No cameras.
My daughters were bridesmaids.
Emma took the responsibility seriously.
Sophie took hers less seriously.
She kept asking whether the wedding cake could be bigger than the dining table.
Victoria said yes.
That was all it took.
Our lives became strange almost immediately.
Victoria started visiting our apartment.
She helped with homework.
She learned Sophie’s favorite bedtime story.
She discovered Emma hated peas.
She bought groceries.
Not expensive ones.
The exact brands my daughters liked.
One evening, I found her sitting on the floor surrounded by dolls.
“What are you doing?”
“Sophie says I have to learn.”
“Learn what?”
“Doll hair.”
I laughed.
“You’re the CEO of a billion-dollar company.”
“I can negotiate billion-dollar contracts.”
She held up a plastic brush.
“But apparently I cannot braid a doll.”
I sat beside her.
“Give me that.”
“You know how?”
“No.”
She laughed.
We spent fifteen minutes failing together.
Emma walked in.
“You two are terrible.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Victoria looked up.
“Can you help?”
Emma sat down.
“Move.”
I smiled.
It was strange seeing them together.
Too natural.
Almost as if they’d been doing it for years.
But there was one thing I noticed.
Victoria’s eyes always lingered on Sophie when the little girl wasn’t looking.
Almost as though something about her frightened her.
One evening, I asked.
“Is there a problem?”
Victoria looked at me.
“What?”
“You keep staring at Sophie.”
She hesitated.
“She looks like someone.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
I didn’t know what to say.
She explained that her mother had been blonde, gentle, and obsessed with children’s charities.
Sophie had the same small gap between her front teeth.
The same laugh.
The same habit of humming while she colored.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Victoria said.
“No.”
“But it feels strange.”
I understood.
Grief worked like that.
Sometimes you saw someone you lost in another person’s face.
The wedding rehearsal was held Friday.
My daughters walked down the aisle.
Sophie dropped her flowers.
Everyone laughed.
Victoria crouched beside her.
“That’s okay.”
Sophie whispered,
“I forgot.”
“You’re allowed to forget.”
“What if I mess up tomorrow?”
Victoria smiled.
“Then we’ll mess up together.”
Sophie smiled back.
I watched them.
Something shifted inside me.
This wasn’t just an arrangement anymore.
Victoria cared about them.
And I was starting to care about her.
That night, Emma came into my room.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Do you like her?”
I stared at the ceiling.
“Yes.”
“Does she like you?”
“I think so.”
Emma nodded.
“Good.”
I smiled.
“Are you sure about this?”
She frowned.
“About what?”
“Victoria.”
Emma looked at me.
“She listens.”
“What does that mean?”
“She listens when people talk.”
I smiled.
“That’s all?”
“No.”
She paused.
“She listens even when people say things she doesn’t want to hear.”
I thought about that.
Emma walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Dad?”
“What?”
“Mom used to say people show you who they are when nobody is watching.”
My smile faded.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Grandma.”
I stared.
Our daughter’s grandmother rarely talked about her mother.
Something felt wrong.
Before I could ask, my phone rang.
It was Victoria.
Her voice was urgent.
“Daniel, don’t come to the estate tonight.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into my father’s old office.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did they take?”
Silence.
Then Victoria said,
“Your wife’s name was in the files.”
