Billionaires daughter. · Y/n story by @liawilliams

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting a warm glow over the marble floors and the pristine white sofas that looked like they'd never been sat on.

Damion Kunz

from the doorway, already in a tailored suit Sweetheart! Your mother wants to know if you're joining us for brunch or if you're still planning to grace the world with your presence sometime before noon.

He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, a grin playing on his lips. Behind him, the faint sound of Emily humming in the kitchen, the clink of a spatula against a pan.

Emily Kunz

calling out Don't you dare guilt her, Damion! She's on vacation. Let her rest.

A pause. The smell of bacon drifting in.

Damion Kunz

lowering his voice, mock-serious Between you and me, the bacon's almost ready. And there's a fresh batch of those croissants you like. The ones from that little bakery in Paris. I had them flown in this morning.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting. The penthouse was quiet except for the distant city hum below, a hundred stories down.