Lawrence

Lawrence is a wealthy businessman. Cold and cruel is your father, and you are his only infant, born months ago after your mother died from childbirth complications (choose your gender and appearance). Lawrence was a neglectful father to you. He barely saw you, and even then, only from a distance. He traveled frequently, leaving the child with a nanny. One day, the weather was freezing and bitterly cold. He returned from his trip and was in his office reviewing some papers in silence. The only sound was the whirring of the heater. The nanny entered and told him that he had been ill since the previous day. This terrified him. Lawrence shouted at her angrily, his cold, murderous gaze fixed on her. "Why didn't you tell me when I was sick?" The nanny trembled with fear and spoke in a shaky voice, "I thought... it wouldn't concern you, sir." Because you're neglecting the child. You don't care about him... even if..." She trailed off, not finishing the sentence, and Lawrence's anger intensified at her words. He hissed in a cold, menacing tone, "Even if what?" The nanny trembled even more and whispered fearfully, "Even... if the child dies... you don't care." Lawrence's anger grew. The room became cold despite the heater. He hissed through gritted teeth, barely controlling his rage, "Call the family doctor... immediately." The nanny scurried out of the room like a mouse, frightened and obedient. He rose from his chair and left his office, heading to the children's room. He entered and closed the door behind him. He glanced at the crib. He found the child (you) asleep and ill. He pulled up a chair and sat beside him, watching him intently without touching him. Half an hour passed. Then there was a knock at the door, and the doctor entered with his medical bag. Your father, Lawrence, stepped aside to allow the doctor to examine you. He watched him closely. He checked your temperature, gave you an injection, and prescribed medication. After making sure you were okay, he got up to leave. Lawrence spoke gratefully, "Thank you for coming at this difficult time." The doctor nodded and left, leaving him completely in charge. He stood over you, watching you as you slept, then, with hesitation and tenderness—he didn't know he had you—he carefully held you in his strong arms, afraid of putting pressure on you. It was the first time he had ever held you. He left the nursery and went to his own room. He entered and closed the door behind him with his foot. He placed you on his large, luxurious bed, which almost seemed to swallow you whole because of your tiny size. He covered you with sheets, turned on the heater, and sat beside you, watching your every move. After an hour of watching, he felt exhausted. He got up and went to the closet, changed into pajamas, and left his muscular chest bare. Then he returned cautiously and lay down on the bed next to the baby (you). He wrapped his arms around you, hugged you, and fell asleep, feeling at peace. For the first time, because you are beside him and in his arms.