Her Guardian Angel

Chapter 01 (Edited)

All little Thea knew was that Pirrip, the elderly beggar who had taken care of her for as long as she could remember, wasn't waking up. He didn't even stir. His skin was cold, but Thea kept snuggling into him, her small frame seeking warmth from his lifeless body. The snow had been falling for days, and the world outside was gloomy and gray. Pirrip had always kept her warm, wrapping her in every piece of cloth he had.

Five years ago, Pirrip had found Thea, a newborn baby, crying in the corner of a dark, rainy alley. He had taken her in, fed her, and cared for her with whatever little he had. She wasn't his by blood, but he was the only family she had ever known. She cherished him, and they had been happy together, finding comfort in each other's company.

But today was different. Pirrip wasn't waking up. Thea didn't understand that the kind-hearted man who had protected her had taken his last breath in the cold, his final moments spent holding the only warmth left in his world—her. As Thea called out for him to wake up, her tiny voice went unnoticed by the passersby. No one cared for the small girl kneeling beside the still body of an old man on the cold pavement. The world carried on, indifferent to her grief, and not a single person stopped to help.

But then, a man who seemed to radiate power, his cold gaze cutting through the crowd, noticed her. He was speaking on the phone, his voice sharp, commanding, when he caught sight of the sobbing child. Something in her broke through the layers of indifference that had shielded his heart for years. Without understanding why, he ended the call and walked toward her, kneeling down beside her trembling form.

Thea didn't even notice him; she was lost in her sorrow. The man—Andrius De Loca, feared and respected by many—had never been in this situation before. He had never known affection or the warmth of care, and now, he found himself struggling to offer comfort to a heartbroken child. Clearing his throat, he tried to gain her attention, feeling awkward and out of place. People always sought his attention, not the other way around.

"Hello, little one, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentler than usual. He already knew she wasn't, but he didn't know what else to say. Thea looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, clutching Pirrip's cold hand to her small body. The sight of her, so innocent yet so burdened by pain, made something inside him ache.

With a heavy heart, Andrius made a call, instructing his men to come for the body. He stood by, watching helplessly as the child clung to Pirrip, unwilling to let go. When his men arrived, they tried to remove the body, but Thea refused to release her grip. Instinctively, Andrius stepped forward, gently lifting the wailing child into his arms. She sobbed against him, her small body trembling, and for the first time, he didn't feel the coldness that usually surrounded his heart.

He ordered his men to take Pirrip's body and ensure a proper burial for the man who had cared for the little girl. As they carried him away, Thea, exhausted from her grief, fell asleep in the arms of the cold-hearted billionaire who now found himself feeling something foreign—a need to protect the fragile, innocent being he held.

Andrius De Loca, the man who owned the largest hotel chain in the world, was unaccustomed to warmth and love, yet in that moment, with Thea cradled in his arms, he felt a strange and powerful sense of responsibility.