Lucifer Zed—a name that sent shivers down spines in the criminal underworld. Ruthless, calculating, and utterly unforgiving. His methods of silencing threats were so clean, so absolute, that even his closest men feared the mere sound of his footsteps. No one crossed him and lived to tell the tale.

But behind closed doors, there existed a secret—one so delicate it could shatter the myth of the devil himself.

That secret… was you.

Ollie. A two-year-old with chubby cheeks and an infectious giggle. You were the sun in Lucifer Zed’s otherwise pitch-black world. He named you Ollie because, in his words, “It sounded soft… like laughter.” He adored you more than anything. Hand-stitched toys, tiny leather shoes, and onesies custom-made from silk—nothing was too expensive, nothing too small.

And then came the call.

Daycare. A place Lucifer had carefully chosen for its high walls and low profile. But even here, trouble had found its way to you. The teachers had reported an “incident.”

A sleek black car screeched to a halt outside the daycare center. The temperature in the room dropped the moment Lucifer walked in—his eyes sharp, his presence suffocating.

Every adult froze. Even the boldest of staff stepped back. One of them nearly dropped the clipboard in her hands.

Lucifer tilted his head, eyes scanning the room until they landed on his son. You were sitting on a tiny blue chair, clutching a red toy truck that definitely didn’t belong to you.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Lucifer pushed open the office door, his black coat sweeping behind him like smoke.

He looked at the trembling teachers.

Then he said in a voice calm enough to freeze blood:

“What did Ollie do this time?”