Justin Bieber's Love Child

{ 1 } four years old

"Daddy, why am I called Destiny?"

I look down into my daughter's soft green eyes. I smile fondly at her and squeeze her hand. "Because you're my destiny. You've always been my destiny, and you always will be."

She looks up at me with big, curious eyes as she takes in my words. I chuckle. Of course she's not going to understand, she's only 3.

"I don't understand Daddy," she frowns.

"Don't worry darling, you will. All in good time, you'll understand..."

••
I sigh as I make my way towards the kitchen, in time to see my 4 year old daughter trying to reach a plate of cookies that are placed on the kitchen counter. "Destiny.." I warn her, my voice deep.

Her head quickly whips around and she skips to me, an innocent smile spread across her face. "Hi daddy."

I laugh and kiss the top of her head. "Hi Des." I reach down and grab her hand in mine to guide her to the dining table. "Dinner will be ready soon, okay. I've asked Ellen to prepare your favourite meal."

"YAY!" She giggles in her chair, her small arms stretched up high and straight. "Wait, what's my favourite food again?"

I laugh. "Are you serious?"

A few moments of silence until Destiny looks up and me and bursts out laughing. "No way!"

I smile to myself and walk towards Ellen as she comes over with drinks. Water for my Des, and a sprite for me. "Hi Ellen, in how many minutes will dinner be ready?"

"Oh don't worry Mr. Bieber, about 2 minutes to go. Your little one doesn't have to wait long," my cook winks, a bright smile spread across her face. Ellen, my cook, loves my daughter and my daughter loves Ellen. Destiny loves just about everyone, she doesn't let a single person not know that she loves them. That's my girl, always so positive.

"Thank you." I return her smile and rush off to my daughter who's now back at the plate of cookies. What a troublemaker.

***

"Daddy, I have a question."

I sigh as her building blocks fall as we're sitting on the floor of my daughter's room. "You're always full of questions," I smile. I swear every time I'm wth my daughter, the only thing I do is smile. "Go ahead. What's your question my darling?" I ask as she grabs another toy from her toy box.

"Who's my mummy and where is she?"

My eyes widen at her words and I look up. She's only 4 years old, she can't know the answer to those questions just yet. She doesn't even know I'm famous yet. I smile sadly as I look at her. She really resembles her mother, and I'm pretty sure they'd get along great. Her eyes are green, I don't get where she got that colour from since both of us parents have brown eyes, but her brown locks reach down to her waist. She's beautiful, just like her mother was.

I sigh at the thought of the woman I got pregnant, the woman who ran out on me after she gave birth to our beautiful little girl. The woman who didn't even give me an explanation, didn't say anything. The woman who didn't give us a chance. The woman who just left.

"Daddy?"
"I'll explain when you're older." I simply say, standing up.
"But Daddy-"
"No Des, that's the final answer. Now go to sleep, I'll see you in the morning," I huff. I walk out of her room and shut the door behind me, making my way downstairs into the living room. When will I be able to tell her all the secrets I've been keeping? Not just about her mother, but about our whole family? My family, her mother's family? When will she be old enough to understand?