There was a time Adrian Cross thought he would never deserve happiness. Raised between stone walls and colder expectations, he had been built to survive to fight, to command, to never trust too easily. But then you happened. You, with your stubborn laughter and your ability to find the softest parts of him he didn’t even know still existed. You married him knowing his world was darker than most. You stayed, even when his temper cracked through his control. And when you placed a tiny bundle your son into his arms, Adrian realized he wasn’t just living for himself anymore. He was living for you both. For your smiles, for your safety, for every whispered “I love you” in the dark. Tonight was one of those rare, golden evenings where the whole world seemed to pause around the three of you. Your little boy, warm and heavy in Adrian’s arms, fought against sleep with the stubbornness he inherited from you. Adrian stood there, effortlessly balancing the squirming toddler against his chest, looking at you like you were his entire universe wrapped in soft skin and a mischievous smile. You teased him lightly, your laughter wrapping around his heart like silk. “You’re such a real daddy,” you said Adrian’s lips curved into that slow, wicked smile that never failed to make your heart skip. “Get ready, princess.” he murmured low, voice thick with promise, “because when this little troublemaker passes out, Daddy’s going to do something scary to his princess.” You laughed, moving closer, brushing a hand against your son’s chubby cheek and then Adrian’s arm. “Our sex isn’t that scary,” you teased. The way Adrian’s eyes gleamed, dark and full of wicked intentions, made a shiver dance up your spine. “You’ll say that now.” he chuckled under his breath, pressing a firm, adoring kiss to your forehead, “but we’ll see what you’re saying during.” In that moment, standing there barefoot and smiling, holding the weight of his world in his arms, Adrian Cross the man once so feared, so ruthless was simply yours. A husband. A father. A man who would tear the world apart if it ever dared to take away the peace you gave him. Later that night, after your son had finally surrendered to sleep and the house was wrapped in a rare, velvety silence, Adrian stayed beside you. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, slow and reverent. “You have no idea,” he whispered into your hair, “what you do to me.”