LOGINThe ballroom has been transformed into a fairy tale, and Grace is the princess of everything.I stand in the doorway watching our daughter toddle between decorations that probably cost more than most people's annual income. Crystal chandeliers hang at toddler-safe heights, flower arrangements spell out “GRACE” in letters three feet tall, and every surface sparkles with the kind of elegant magic that only unlimited budgets can create.“She likes the butterflies,” Killian observes, pointing to where Grace has discovered the mechanical butterflies that flutter around the room on nearly invisible wires.“She likes anything that moves.”“She has excellent taste in kinetic art installations.”“She's one year old. Everything is art to her.”Grace stops beneath a cluster of butterflies, reaching up with both hands while babbling commentary that sounds surprisingly sophisticated.“She's explaining the installation to herself,” Killian says proudly.“She's making one-year-old sounds at pretty t
Grace takes her first wobbly step toward Killian, and time stops completely.The boardroom goes silent. Twelve executives freeze mid-conversation as our eleven-month-old daughter lets go of her play mat and lurches forward on unsteady legs, arms stretched toward her father with pure determination.“Did she just—” Tom starts.“Shh,” Killian whispers, not taking his eyes off Grace as she takes another wobbling step.One step. Two. Three steps before she topples forward into Killian's waiting arms.“She walked!” he announces to the room, his voice cracking with emotion. “Did everyone see that? Grace just walked!”“We saw,” Loretta says, grinning. “That was beautiful.”“First steps during quarterly review,” another board member observes. “Should we put that in the meeting minutes?”“We're putting that in the family history,” Killian says, kissing Grace's head while she babbles proudly in his arms. “She chose to walk to Daddy during an important business meeting.”“She chose to walk becaus
The UN Secretary-General wants Emery's input on global women's initiatives, and Grace comes along for the ride.“Mrs. Wolfe, the Secretary-General will see you now,” the aide says, glancing nervously at the stroller Killian is maneuvering through the UN security checkpoint.“Is the baby accompanying you to the meeting?” she asks carefully.“The baby goes where we go,” Killian replies with the tone that signals non-negotiable family policy.“Of course. Right this way.”I watch our ten-month-old daughter take in the marble corridors and international flags with the serious attention she brings to all new environments. Grace has been traveling with us since she was old enough to leave the apartment, accumulating passport stamps like other babies collect toys.“She's very alert,” the aide observes as Grace studies the passing diplomats and security personnel.“She's very curious about everything,” I say. “Especially new faces and voices.”“How does she handle diplomatic meetings?”“Better
The trust fund documents are thicker than most novels, and Grace can't even walk yet.I stare at the stack of legal papers spread across our dining room table while Killian reviews each page with the same intensity he brings to major acquisitions. Grace sits in her high chair nearby, methodically destroying a piece of toast while her parents plan her financial future.“Education trust is fully funded through doctoral level at any accredited institution worldwide,” our attorney says, pointing to specific clauses. “Medical trust covers any health needs, including experimental treatments not covered by standard insurance.”“What about security provisions?” Killian asks.“Comprehensive personal protection funding, residential security allowances, transportation safety requirements. Everything you specified.”“Housing trust?”“Properties in New York, London, and any additional locations she chooses as an adult. Plus maintenance, taxes, and staff as needed.”Grace drops her toast and claps
At six months old, Grace has Killian wrapped around her tiny finger.I watch from the nursery doorway as he lies on the floor beside her during tummy time, making ridiculous faces and sounds to encourage her attempts at rolling over. Grace pushes up on her arms, wobbles for a moment, then collapses with a frustrated gurgle.“Almost, beautiful girl,” Killian says encouragingly. “You are getting stronger every day.”“She's six months old, not training for the Olympics.”“She's developing core strength and motor skills. This is crucial foundation work for crawling, walking, and eventual athletic coordination.”“Or she's a baby playing on a blanket.”“Same thing, different perspective.”Grace makes another determined effort, this time managing to hold herself up for several seconds before toppling over. Killian immediately celebrates like she's just won a gold medal.“Did you see that? Six seconds! That's three seconds longer than yesterday!”“You are timing her tummy time?”“I'm document
The boardroom has been converted to accommodate a bassinet, and nobody dares comment.I stand in the doorway watching twelve board members pretend that having a sleeping baby in the middle of their quarterly review meeting is completely normal. The portable bassinet sits between Killian's chair and the presentation screen, complete with its own noise machine and temperature monitor.“Revenue projections for Q3 show steady growth,” Tom reports, gesturing carefully around Grace's sleeping form. “ ”Asia-Pacific markets have exceeded expectations.“ ”Grace makes a soft sound, and every head in the room turns toward her before quickly snapping back to attention.“Excellent,” Killian says, making notes while simultaneously checking the baby monitor app on his phone. “What about the Henderson merger timeline?”“On track for December completion, assuming no regulatory delays.”“Good. Contingency plans if there are delays?”“Fully developed and ready to implement.”I settle into the chair they







