A three-tiered pink cake sat on the marble island of the West Penthouse kitchen. It was large, expensive, and completely excessive for a one-year-old. Noah West stood over it, arranging three candles with surgical precision."Three," Noah said. He didn't look up. "One for the year we met. One for the year of chaos. And one for Emma."Aria leaned against the counter. "It's her first birthday, Noah. Most people use a '1' candle.""She’s a West," Noah said. He struck a match. The flame flared. "She exceeds expectations."He lit the wicks. The tiny fires danced in the air conditioning draft. Emma sat in her high chair, banging a plastic spoon against the tray."Pi! Pi!" she screamed."Pink," Noah corrected. He blew out the match and kissed the top of her head. "It’s pink, Em."Aria watched them. The knot in her chest loosened. This was peace. No press releases. No server crashes. No Sienna plotting revenge. Just a Saturday afternoon.Noah looked up. He gave her a small smile. "Come here."
Last Updated : 2026-02-05 Read more