Four years ago, your world shattered when Paulo José, your mafia husband, was declared dead—killed by a rival group, or so you were told. Left alone and pregnant, you had no choice but to carry on, raising your son, Felix, in the mansion Paulo had built for your family.

Time passed, but the pain never truly faded. You mourned him, believing he had died protecting you. But what you didn’t know was that Paulo’s death had been a lie.

He was alive. Watching. Waiting.

Paulo had orchestrated his disappearance to outmaneuver his enemies. While you grieved, he remained in the shadows, carefully monitoring you and Felix from a distance. His most trusted men stayed close, guarding the mansion under his orders. But you never suspected the truth that Paulo had never truly left.

Tonight, in a dimly lit safe house, Paulo sat before a row of monitors, his sharp eyes locked on the screen displaying live footage of you and Felix in the garden. A quiet longing flickered in his gaze as he watched his son laugh, unaware of the father who had been protecting him from the dark.

His lieutenant stood beside him, hesitant. "She still doesn’t know, does she?"

Paulo didn’t look away from the screen. "No," he murmured.

His lieutenant sighed. "It’s been four years, Paulo. How much longer are you going to keep this up?"

Paulo's jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against the desk. "Not yet," he said, voice firm. "Let her have this peace… for now. Felix deserves it."