The suitcase slipped from his numb hand, thudding onto the marble like a final verdict. His tie, still twisted from an eighteen-hour flight from Toronto, hung loose around his neck — a silent reminder that he had no reason to be here. He wasn’t supposed to come home for another three days. Meetings, dinners, negotiations — his calendar was carved in stone.

And yet something… a strange pressure in his chest, a tug he couldn’t explain, had pulled him back early.

Now he understood why.

The moment he opened the door, he was hit with a scene that nearly knocked the breath out of him.
For a split second he thought he’d stepped into someone else’s house. Not his. Not the cold, perfectly staged mansion he left behind.

Soft, golden light filled the living room. Toys scattered across the pale-blue rug. And in the middle of it all — the new nanny, Elise, kneeling on the floor. Her black-and-white uniform stood in sharp contrast against the colorful chaos.

But she wasn’t what shattered him.

It was his children.
His three boys — Leo, Max, and Jules — on their knees beside her, tiny hands clasped together, eyes shut tight in a moment so intimate, so unexpected, it jolted him like an electric shock.

Something sacred was happening.
Something he had no part in.

Leo opened his eyes first. The look he gave his father wasn’t surprise… it was something far worse.

— Dad… we didn’t think you’d come back.

The words cut deeper than any accusation.
Adrien felt them like a blow straight to the ribs — swift, quiet, merciless.

Elise rose carefully, her hands still resting on the boys’ shoulders. Panic flickered in her eyes, but not guilt. No — she was afraid he’d misunderstand what he’d walked in on.

— They told me they wanted to “ask the universe” to bring you home, she said softly. They didn’t know any other way to make you hear them.

The room fell painfully silent.

Adrien looked at his sons — really looked — and for the first time in years saw the truth behind their restless energy, their tantrums, their clinginess.

It wasn’t misbehavior.
It was longing.

Max tugged at his pajama sleeve.
— We thought if we all held hands and wished really, really hard… you’d come back sooner.

Jules added, almost whispering:
— And it worked.

Adrien’s knees nearly gave out.
The boys rushed to him instantly — three small bodies clinging to him with the desperation of children who had waited too long.

Elise spoke again, her voice quiet but sharp as a needle:

— They weren’t trying to call back a millionaire. They were trying to call back their father.

Those words struck him like lightning.
Not because they were cruel.
Because they were true.

He wrapped his arms around his sons, pulling them close, feeling their small hearts pounding against his chest.

For the first time in months — maybe years — something inside him cracked open. Not from weakness, but from recognition.

— I’m here, he said, voice unsteady. And I hear you. For real this time.

At that moment Adrien understood:
The most shocking thing in that room wasn’t the ritual, or the nanny, or the fear in his children’s eyes.

The real shock was realizing how far he had drifted from the very people who needed him most.

And how desperately they were trying to pull him back.