The cold New York air brushed against Cynthia’s cheeks as she stepped out of the limousine, her baby cradled in her arms, swaddled against her chest. Mike stood beside her, one hand protectively placed on the small of her back, the other holding a velvet blindfold.

Cynthia turned to him, eyes narrowing. “What is that?”

Mike smirked, his voice low and teasing. “A surprise.”

“You and your surprises,” she muttered, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Trust me,” he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. “This one is different.”

Cynthia hesitated, then slowly nodded. She carefully passed their sleeping daughter to the waiting nanny, who disappeared into the building...