Chapter 46
JAV
She’s asleep against my chest now—her breath soft against my skin, her arm tucked over my ribs like it belongs there.
And gods help me, it does.
I’ve held weapons with less reverence than I hold this moment.
There’s no war drum in my blood. No rage rattling my bones.
Just her. Just this.
I trace a line down her spine with the back of my fingers, slow and featherlight, like I’m afraid to wake her.
Like I’m afraid she might disappear again if I stop reminding myself she’s real.
She stirs just a little, but doesn’t open her eyes.
My body still hums from her touch, from the way she looked at me like I wasn’t a ghost from her past but something solid—someone she chose.
I’ve fought a thousand battles. Killed men twice my size and taken down syndicates with nothing but a knife and a grudge.
But nothing’s ever undone me like the way she said my name tonight.
I used to think power meant control. Meant domination. Strategy.
But lying here, wrapped up in the warmth of the only woman who ever made me question the life I built—I feel something entirely different.
I feel gentle.
And that scares the hell out of me.
Because gentleness is something I’ve never known how to survive.
It’s not a battlefield.
It’s surrender.
And right now, I’d lay down every last weapon I’ve got for one more second of this.
“Hey,” I whisper, brushing her damp hair from her cheek. “You still with me?”
Her eyes open slowly, sleepy and soft, lashes blinking like a sunrise cracking over calm water.
“I better be,” she murmurs. “Unless I imagined all that.”
I grin, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “If you did, I’m having the same dream.”
She lets out a breath, quiet but full of something that makes my chest tighten.
“You okay?” I ask.
Kairo looks up at me for a long beat. Then nods, slowly.
“Yeah,” she says. “More than I’ve been in a long time.”
We lie in silence for a while. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just full.
And then I say it—because I need her to hear it.
“I’ll follow you anywhere, Kai.”
She glances up at me.
“I’m serious,” I add. “Scrubbing cafeteria floors. Filing school paperwork. Doing inventory on glitter glue. Whatever life you’re building for Ben—I want in.”
She stares at me, lips parting.
And then—she laughs.
Really laughs.
A sharp, surprised little bark of joy that cracks something open in both of us.
“Glitter glue?” she teases.
I shrug. “I’ve survived worse.”
She snorts and curls tighter against me, her laugh fading into a soft hum against my chest.
A few minutes pass. Maybe more. It’s hard to tell time when everything feels still and perfect.
Then I say, “Can he know?”
Her breath stills.
I don’t push.
But she looks up at me, and I see it in her eyes—she’s already decided.
“Yes,” she whispers. “It’s time.”
Relief floods me, sharp and bright. My throat tightens.
I kiss her shoulder, slow and careful.
“Tomorrow, then,” I say. “I tell my son who he is.”
She nods. Her fingers tighten around mine.
Outside, the night is quiet. The stars shine like they know secrets.
And in this room, in this bed, with her heart beating against mine—I don’t feel like a mobster, or a monster, or a man clawing out of his past.
I feel like a father.
And maybe that’s the bravest thing I’ve ever been.