Chapter 4: Morning Light
The soft sound of giggles pulled Elias Dane from sleep.
He opened his eyes to a small face pressed against his own, warm breath puffing against his cheek. A chubby little hand patted his nose, followed by a proud, toothy grin.
"Dadaaa," the boy whispered.
Elias smiled, groggy and amused. "Morning, Noah."
His son—two years old, full of energy and curiosity—climbed over him like a jungle gym, nearly poking Elias in the eye as he tried to reach for the glasses on the bedside table.
"Noah, careful," Elias chuckled, sitting up and pulling the boy gently into his lap. "Eyes are sensitive, remember?"
Noah blinked up at him with the wide-eyed innocence only toddlers could pull off. "Sens'tiv," he repeated proudly.
"That's right," Elias said softly, brushing a curl off the boy's forehead. "Smart boy."
---
Their mornings were simple. Quiet. Safe.
Elias dressed Noah in a tiny dinosaur hoodie while the boy giggled at nothing in particular. He made coffee with one hand and held a banana out for Noah with the other. While the toast popped, Noah sang to his favorite song in his baby voice:
🎵 "The wheels on the bus go round and round…" 🎵
Off-key. Out of tune. Perfect.
Elias sat him in the high chair and slid a plate over—tiny pancakes shaped like stars and smiley faces.
Noah gasped. "WAH! Starrr!"
Elias grinned. "Chef Papa, at your service."
"Tank you, Dada."
---
Later, after dishes and wiping syrup off the boy's nose, Elias walked him to the tiny playroom off the living room. It was full of colorful foam mats, books, and a worn-out plush giraffe named Mister Tall.
Noah went straight for his building blocks. "Build a tower, Daddy?"
"Of course."
They stacked one block… then two… then three.
Halfway up, the tower wobbled and collapsed with a dramatic crash.
Noah gasped like the world had ended.
Then looked at Elias.
Elias faked a gasp too. "Nooo! It betrayed us!"
Noah giggled.
"Should we rebuild?"
The toddler nodded seriously. "Biiiiger."
"Bigger it is."
And they tried again.
---
As the hours passed, Noah napped on the couch with his giraffe, and Elias sat by the window with a book in one hand and a baby monitor in the other. The quiet was precious. Fragile.
Sometimes he let himself believe it would last.
But it never did.
---
There was a file on his dining table.
Still unopened.
A thick folder with a wax seal—the kind that didn't come through normal channels. The kind that only one world used.
Their world.
Elias stared at it for a long time.
He didn't want to open it. Not with Noah asleep in the next room.
But the past had a habit of finding him.
He stood and walked to the table, lifting the folder with fingers that no longer shook. He'd left that life behind, hadn't he?
The name on the proposal was handwritten.
Jordan Reign.
The infamous tomboy boss of the Southern Syndicate. Cold. Ruthless. Feared.
He'd heard of her, of course.
But now… now the Elders wanted him to marry her.
He laughed softly to himself, a humorless sound.
What kind of man agrees to fake-marry a mafia boss?
Apparently, the kind who has no choice.
Elias looked toward the hallway, where a soft snore told him Noah was still safe in his dream world.
"I'll protect you," he whispered, tracing a hand over the closed folder.
"No matter what."
Because there was one thing Jordan Reign didn't know.
Elias Dane wasn't just a teacher.
He wasn't just a father.
And if she ever tried to hurt his son—
He'd show her that monsters could wear smiles too.
END OF CHAPTER 4