I own glass towers in Manhattan. I have the Prime Minister of Japan in my contacts. My fortune is a number most people can’t even imagine.
But none of that means ANYTHING when it comes to my daughter Mia.
To the public, I am Adrian Mercer, the ruthless venture capitalist behind Mercer Systems.
To Mia, I’m simply “Dad.”
Ever since my wife died giving birth to her, I’ve become protective — perhaps more than necessary. I wanted Mia to have a normal childhood and not grow up as “the billionaire’s daughter.”
So I enrolled her in a modest but respected private school in Portland, hid my identity, and let the nanny pick her up most of the time.
But today was different. I finished a deal earlier than expected. I was wearing what I call my “thinking clothes”: an old sweatshirt and worn-out sweatpants. I looked nothing like the polished executive on magazine covers.
So I decided to surprise my little girl.
