Dean watched his daughter pluck some flowers, giving a smile to the other lady.

Dean continued watching until the ringing of his phone distracted him. He found out that it was his mother.

He declined the call, raised his head only to discover that she had walked in.

His heart constricted, but he took a deep breath, and his phone rang again. This time, he picked the call.

"Where are you? I went to your office but didn't see you. Anna told me you locked her out of your house, why are you like this, Dean?" His mother's loud voice came from the other end.

Dean pushed his phone slightly away from his ears as he listened to her scolding.

"Are you done?" He asked, and his mother was about to flare up.

"Is this all you can say?" Lady Carter asked him, and he could hear the sound of heavy breathing from the other end.

"Mom, I have told you, I won't marry Anna, and that's final," Dean said, his voice firm.

"Don't tell me you are still hung up over Helen, it's been six years Dean, I'm sure she must have moved on. You have to marry Anna, she's the perfect match for you," Lady Carter tried to convince him.

"I'm sorry, mom, but I'll have to disobey you. Over the past six years, I listened to everything you said, I didn't look for her just as you requested, instead, I focused on building the company, but this time, I won't do as you say anymore," Dean apologized, before disconnecting the call.

This action of his caused the older woman to get furious as she threw her phone on the sofa.

"Aunt, you look angry. I hope Dean hasn't offended you, you know what, it isn't right for you to fight with your son just for my sake, I won't feel good," a soft voice could be heard from the side.

"Anna, aunt made you a promise, and she will fulfill it. He is my son, there is no way he won't listen to me. You will get married to Dean, and I'll make sure of it," Lady Carter stated, her voice carrying weight.

Anna curled her lips slowly as she said, "thank you, Aunt, I knew I could count on you."

Dean, on the other hand, watched the gates for a while, and when he realized his daughter wouldn't come out again, he drove away, heartbreak gnawing away at his chest.

When he got to his high end apartment, he thought about various ways he could win Helen's and his daughter's hearts back.

Dean sank into the leather couch of his apartment, barely noticing how cold and empty the space felt. It had been like this for years. Quiet and lifeless, just like him.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes were on the ceiling, but all he could see was Helen’s face. He remembered the way her jaw had tightened when she spotted him earlier that day, the way her eyes had burned with hurt before she turned away, as if looking at him for one more second would break her completely.

And then his daughter, their daughter. She had her mother’s eyes, fierce, bright, curious. And her smile God, her smile had almost brought him to his knees.

Although he had not approached her, he knew his daughter was beautiful.

Six whole years of silence. Six years of not knowing. Six years of imagining what could’ve been.

Dean raked a hand through his hair as he exhaled, asking himself, "what the hell have I done?"

He stood up abruptly and paced the room, grabbing the remote and tossing it on the floor out of frustration. Everything he’d ever wanted, a family, a chance to love and be loved, he’d let it slip through his fingers because he had been too weak to stand up to his mother back then.

Lady Carter meant well, he had always told himself. She was trying to protect the family legacy, the company. But what about his happiness? His choice? His daughter?

Dean moved to the large glass window that overlooked the city skyline, the neon lights casting a dull glow over his living room. Somewhere out there, Helen was tucking in their daughter, maybe reading her a bedtime story. And he wasn’t there.

He clenched his fists. That was going to change.

If Helen had wanted to remain a ghost from his past, fate wouldn’t have brought her back into his life. She wouldn’t have been the one he needed to partner with. She wouldn’t have stayed in this city.

This city held a lot of their memories, both good and bad She wouldn't have built her legacy in this city. The same city which caused her pain.

That had to mean something, right?

Dean sat back down, this time grabbing a notepad from his desk. He needed a plan. Something smart. Something patient. He couldn't afford to push her away again. Not again.

He needed to get Helen to talk to him alone.

Not in a boardroom. Not in front of others. Just the two of them.

He also needed to find out everything he missed in six years.

Their daughter’s name, birthday, favorite color. All the things a father should’ve known from day one.

He also needed to make her see he never stopped loving her.

Because despite the years, the silence, the betrayal, he had never stopped loving her. He wrote all of these, and he was satisfied with what he had written.

And then there was Anna.

Dean’s jaw clenched at the thought of her. She had played the obedient victim well, using his mother’s influence to insert herself into his life. But he’d never led her on. Never given her false hope. He made that clear from the start that he would never love her.

Yet here they were. His mother promised Anna a future that didn’t belong to her.

"No more," Dean murmured to himself, gripping the pen tightly.

"This time, I choose for myself." He said with firm determination.

His phone buzzed. This time, it was a message from Anna.

"I made your favorite tonight. Come over and we can talk. Just you and me." The message read.

Dean stared at the screen, then tossed the phone aside. He wasn’t playing that game anymore.

Just then, an idea hit him.

If Helen didn’t want to talk, then ,maybe he could go through someone close to her.

He remembered the young woman from the meeting. That was her assistant.

If he couldn’t reach Helen directly, he’d send a message through the assistant. Not with manipulation, Just something honest.

He’d begin there.

Dean looked over to the shelf by the window, where an old photo frame sat. It held a picture from years ago, one he had refused to throw away. A candid shot of him and Helen at a beach resort. Her head was thrown back in laughter, and he had his hand on her waist.

He brushed his fingers over the frame, "I'm going to fix this, Helen. I swear." He vowed.

Outside, the city pulsed with life, but inside Dean’s heart, a storm was quietly brewing , a storm of resolve, of aching love, and the growing desire to rewrite the story he had let someone else write for too long.

Tomorrow, he’d begin again. Not as Dean Carter, the CEO.

But as the man who just wanted to win back the only woman he’d ever loved, and the daughter he never got to hold.