Neville ignored her weak protest entirely. Without another word, he waved over the shop assistant and casually dumped the stack of pink clothes into her arms.
The assistant blinked, momentarily stunned. She glanced at the pile—pink cap, pink jumper, pink shirt, pink socks, pink shoes. Was this man really serious about dressing a child head to toe in this much pink?
She wisely said nothing, though her raised eyebrows hinted at her confusion.
Neville caught the look but couldn't care less. "Help her get changed," he instructed coolly.
The assistant gave a polite nod and crouched down beside Vivi. The moment she got close enough to take a good look, her breath caught slightly. Up close, Vivi looked almost like a porcelain doll—big, dewy eyes, soft blushing cheeks, and perfectly pouty lips. The kind of adorable that felt too unreal to be natural.
Even in her stubborn little turtle outfit, Vivi radiated charm.
If only it weren't a bit too forward to get overly close with customers, the shop assistant would have definitely reached out to pinch Vivi's chubby cheeks. She couldn't help but marvel at how adorable the little girl was.
"Is she your daughter, sir?" the assistant asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
She glanced from Vivi's round, rosy face back to Neville's, trying to spot any resemblance between the two. But honestly, she couldn't see much of a connection—this little chubby angel was probably a tiny copy of her mother.
The question was a good one, though. Was Vivi really his daughter? Well... maybe. Neville had no objections if the little girl wanted to call him "father." After all, his life had grown a bit dull and predictable lately, and perhaps this little bundle of energy could bring some excitement back into his days.
He might have zero experience caring for a child this small, but Neville was confident he could be a good guardian for Vivi. If she could prove to be a source of entertainment and joy, he wouldn't hesitate to spoil her rotten.
From what he'd seen on social media lately, parenting looked easier than it seemed.
"Hmm… yeah," Neville said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I'm her father starting today."
" ... "
The smile on the assistant's face twitched ever so slightly when she heard Neville's reply. Deciding it was best not to pry too much into their private lives, she gently took Vivi's hand and led her toward the dressing room. Meanwhile, Vivi kept stealing glances at her daddy, silently hoping he might change his mind. But Neville, pretending not to notice her pleading eyes, remained steadfast.
After a few minutes, Vivi stepped out of the dressing room, dressed head to toe in the clothes Neville had carefully picked out. Neville gave her a satisfied nod—pink was obviously her favorite color, and as a girl, it seemed a natural choice.
But Vivi wasn't convinced.
"Daddy, I don't want these clothes!" she whined, wrapping her arms around his legs.
Neville smiled confidently, "But why? They look good on you."
The shop assistant, once again holding back her judgment about Neville's fashion sense, thought to herself that just because a child is a girl doesn't mean she automatically likes pink. She found it hard to describe the little girl decked out entirely in bright pink—from the jumper to the shoes, the cap, and even her hair accessories.
Then, Vivi suddenly piped up, "Daddy, I like turtles."
What Vivi truly wanted to express at that very moment was her eagerness to slip back into her beloved turtle onesies—the ones that made her feel safe and comforted. But it was painfully obvious that Neville didn't understand what she was trying to say at all. Instead of getting the hint, he casually turned away from her small, pleading face and headed over to pick out a bright pink, glittery backpack. This shiny new accessory was meant to replace her silly-looking, worn-out bag.
"Ah, really?" Neville said with a teasing tone, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he held up the backpack. "But I heard that turtles don't like you very much."
At this, Vivi let out an exaggerated gasp, exactly like the ones her mommy always made whenever she heard some unexpected news. She covered her tiny mouth with both hands and opened her eyes wide as saucers, as if the world had just come crashing down around her. Neville raised an eyebrow and smiled softly, thoroughly enjoying the little performance unfolding before him.
"Daddy is lying!" Vivi exclaimed, her small bottom lip jutting out into a pout, determined to call out what she saw as a blatant untruth.
Neville chuckled, grinning at her spirited reaction. "And why would I lie to you, huh?" he replied with a playful smile. "If a turtle actually saw you, it would probably think you were some big, scary monster coming to eat them alive."
"No way! Vivi is a cute baby!" she insisted, crossing her arms defiantly, not ready to back down.
Neville leaned in a little, pretending to think hard, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're just a baby, that's true. But cute? Hmm… I might need some time to think that over carefully."
Vivi's expression fell into mock offense. "... You're bullying me, Daddy!"
Neville's laughter was soft but genuine as he shook his head, clearly entertained by the playful banter between them. "Heh," he murmured, the sound full of warmth and affection.
Neville was growing weary of keeping up appearances around this little whirlwind of energy. After all, Vivi had already spent a day with Stanley and experienced his overly kind and indulgent nature. So why should Neville pretend to be the doting, gentle father all the time? Deep down, he wasn't exactly the softest person around, and honestly, he felt he had already gone above and beyond by treating Vivi to a feast earlier. That should count for something.
"Bad daddy," Vivi murmured softly, almost to herself, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "I even sang you a good song earlier."
Neville turned, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, that? Listen carefully, Natellie's little copycat — don't try singing for me again anytime soon."
Her eyes widened in confusion. "But why?"
He shrugged with a teasing grin. "Because you're bad at it. Really, really bad."
Vivi's face crumpled into a betrayed pout, but Neville simply ignored it. He strode over to the counter, paid for the new clothes without another word, leaving the little girl to silently nurse her wounded pride.
Neville was sitting there, quietly enjoying the little moment in front of him—the sight of Vivi's pouty, betrayed face. Her cheeks were chubby and puffed out, and her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, making her look like a tiny thundercloud ready to burst. It was the kind of expression that could melt even the toughest hearts. For a few peaceful seconds, Neville just watched her, almost amused by how seriously she took whatever had just happened.
But then, his phone buzzed inside his pocket, breaking the calm like a sudden crack of thunder. He pulled it out, seeing the name of his secretary flashing on the screen. Usually, on a day like this, he would have ignored any calls from work without a second thought. But today felt different. For once, Neville was in a decent mood, and that little bit of peace made him willing to answer.
As soon as he picked up and heard the voice on the other end of the line, everything changed. That rare, fleeting good mood slipped away like a shadow at dusk. Neville's relaxed face tightened instantly, and a deep frown settled heavily on his brow. Whatever news he was getting wasn't good, and just like that, the calm moment was gone.