Little Surprises

(AURIANNA'S POV)

For a second, I genuinely think I misheard.

The little girl's tiny arms are wrapped around me like I'm her favorite person in the world, and I'm just... standing there, frozen, staring down at this bundle of dark hair and green eyes who just called me mommy.

Mommy.

What the actual hell.

I blink once, twice, maybe three times. My brain's buffering. Then I look up, straight at Zayne. He looks just as surprised too. Even the nanny standing at the bottom of the stairs looks like she just walked in on a live soap opera.

"Did she just-" I start, still processing.

Zayne steps forward so fast you'd think I was holding a grenade instead of a child. He gently pulls the girl off me and says, "Brielle, honey, you can't just go around calling random strangers your mom."

"But she looks like Mommy," the girl protests, her little face scrunching up in confusion.

Zayne sighs, his voice softening. "That doesn't make her your mother, Bree."

The kid pouts, her eyes glistening like she's about to cry, and something in my chest squeezes. God, those eyes. The kind of innocence that punches straight through your armor.

"Then who is she?" Brielle asks, turning her big gaze to me again.

I crouch down so we meet eye to eye. "Hey, Bree," I say softly, smiling. "My name's Aurianna, but you can call me Anna. I'll be staying here with you and your dad for a while."

Her whole face lights up like a Christmas tree. "So... are you Daddy's new girlfriend? Wait-are the two of you getting married?!"

"What?!" Zayne blurts at the exact same time I do.

I stare at her, horrified. "Oh-no, no, no, sweetheart. Definitely not."

Zayne waves his hands. "God, no. That's not-no. She's, uh... she's my, uh..."

"Babysitter," I say dryly.

He shoots me a look. "Bodyguard."

Brielle giggles, apparently amused by our complete lack of coordination. "Okayyy," she says, dragging out the word like she doesn't buy it.

Zayne clears his throat, trying to move things along. "Alright, Bree, you need to finish your homework before bedtime."

"But Daddyyy," she whines, tugging on his sleeve, "I don't wanna do math."

He chuckles and lifts her into his arms like it's his second nature. "I know, but if you don't do your homework, your grades will drop, and then I won't buy you that Barbie dream house you want so bad."

Her little mouth forms an "O." "You promise?" she asks.

"Only if you do your homework," he says, setting her down.

She huffs dramatically and stomps her foot. "Fine."

I bite back a smile. The whole exchange is so... human. So normal. And for a moment, I just watch this man I've been calling a cocky asshole all day, being a dad. There's something unexpectedly soft in the way he talks to her, the way he listens.

The warm feeling that blooms in my chest catches me off guard. I'm not supposed to feel things like this.

Zayne calls over the nanny-Clara, I think he said-and she steps forward with a small, polite smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Aurianna," she says kindly. "Brielle, let's go finish that homework, okay?"

"Okay," Bree mumbles, then turns to wave at me. "Bye, Anna!"

"Bye, Bree," I say, smiling.

Bree starts walking up the stairs beside Clara, but halfway up, she stops and looks back down at Zayne.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he says, already halfway turned toward the living room.

"Will you tuck me in tonight?" she asks, her eyes wide and hopeful.

He softens immediately. "Of course I will."

She grins, satisfied. "And will you read me the new bedtime story you bought me?"

He chuckles. "Yes, I will. The whole thing this time."

Her face lights up, and she nods eagerly before running upstairs.

I can't help but mile. That little moment right there just killed me.

When she disappears down the hall, I finally sit down on the sofa. Zayne sits too, across from me, and the air feels... lighter somehow.

"Wow," I say after a beat, still processing. "So, you have a daughter. How did I not know this?"

He shrugs casually. "Because I like my private life private. Always kept it that way."

I nod slowly. "Smart. Especially considering you've got a psychomaniac trying to kill you."

"Exactly," he says, leaning back. "The last thing I want is for Brielle to be anywhere near that kind of attention."

I tilt my head, studying him. "So... is she the child of one of your many lovers? Or do you have a baby mama I should know about?"

His lips twitch. "Ha, ha. Very funny," he says dryly then sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "No. I had Bree with my late wife."

The teasing smile on my face fades instantly. "Oh... I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Nah, it's fine," he says quietly. "You didn't know."

Something about his tone makes me soften. It's not defensive or cold, it's tired. The kind of tiredness that doesn't come from lack of sleep, but from loss.

I lower my voice. "What was her name?"

"Chloe," he says after a pause.

"And... how did she die?"

He swallows. "She... she died in a plane crash."

There's a beat of silence. I nod slowly, my eyes drifting to the floor. "I'm really sorry, Zayne."

He doesn't respond right away. When I glance at him again, he's staring into space, lost in thought. There's something vulnerable in his eyes, something raw and unguarded that I wasn't expecting.

For a brief moment, neither of us says anything. The air between us feels heavy, but not in a bad way. Just... real.

Then he clears his throat, breaking whatever that was. "Anyway," he says, standing, "come on. Let me show you to your room."

"Right," I say, standing as well.

He leads me up the stairs and down the hall to a cozy guest room. My luggage is already there, lined neatly beside the bed. I take one look around-the soft lighting, the large windows and a balcony overlooking the pool-and let out a low whistle.

"Not bad," I say, dropping onto the bed. "Guess this'll do."

Zayne chuckles. "Glad you approve. It's getting late, so I should probably go tuck Bree in before she declares war on bedtime."

I laugh. "Good luck with that."

He smiles faintly, nods once, and turns to leave. I watch him go, his footsteps fading down the hall, and for some reason, I find myself still smiling.

After a moment, I get up, start unpacking a few things from my bag-shirts, jeans, toiletries.

Suddenly, my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I pull it out to see her name flashing across the screen.

Chelsea.