SIXTEEN

Little Timmy was crying. It was a sound that broke every mother’s heart, but it was also a sound that made Daniel Winters want to break every china in his penthouse. The moment both he and Jane stepped through the elevator door to his penthouse, Pepper Potts came stumbling, her mousy hair looking even more unruly than usual. Her cat eyeglasses was also lopsided and spits of milk graced her usually polished attire. Granted, his secretary wasn’t the neatest of all his employees, but this was the first time he saw her looking like someone who had just clawed her way out of a crocodile-infested jungle.

“Mrs Winters! Help! Little Timmy won’t sleep anymore..” she shouted in anguish and running up to Jane with flailing arms. “He’s just…just crying!”

She grabbed both of Jane’s hands, oblivious that one of Jane’s hands had been scalded. From the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Jane wince slightly before she put on