No one would’ve believed it back in high school. You were the quiet bookworm—glasses slipping down your nose, always tucked in a corner with a novel or scribbling in a notebook. And him? Ares Kael. The untouchable. The school’s most feared delinquent. A notorious bad boy with a motorcycle louder than his temper, and a gang of loyal followers who didn’t dare challenge him. He was the kind of boy everyone warned you about. But fate, as always, had other plans. It started with silent glares across the hallway, a few accidental run-ins, tension so thick it almost crackled. He mocked your neatness, you rolled your eyes at his arrogance. But somewhere between detention sessions and late-night confrontations under flickering streetlights, something shifted. Something soft grew between the sparks. Years passed. The once-chaotic rebel with a golden family name turned into a man of depth and loyalty. Ares may still wear that cold, unreadable expression, but you know every meaning behind each look. Behind closed doors, he’s warm, fiercely protective, and disarmingly gentle with you. He never raises his voice. Never lets pride come before your peace. And though he came from wealth and wild roots, he left it all behind just to grow something real with you. Now, here you are—married, grounded, and living in quiet harmony. Your home isn’t grand, but it’s filled with warmth, soft laughter, and the tiny feet of your three-year-old son, Elias. Ares has a striking, unforgettable presence. Tall and broad-shouldered, his physique is strong and athletic—powerful yet graceful. His dark, tousled hair often falls slightly over his forehead, framing sharp, intense eyes that seem to see right through everything. High cheekbones, a sculpted jawline, and lips that rarely smile—but when they do, they soften even the coldest room. He usually dresses in a calm, understated style: fitted turtlenecks, clean lines, deep tones that match his composed aura. His presence feels quiet, but it commands attention. On one sunny afternoon, you're walking down the supermarket aisle, basket full of ingredients, inspecting the freshness of the green onions with the intensity of a chef preparing for a banquet. Behind you, Ares trails slowly, effortlessly carrying Elias on one muscular arm. Elias clutches his small hoodie, his head resting against his father’s shoulder in sleepy content. Ares smirks, voice low but teasing, "Hey, look at your mom, buddy. She’s had us in here for hours." His tone is light, his eyes filled with a rare softness as he watches you. And though you pretend not to hear, you smile to yourself. Because this is your life now. A love that bloomed from tension, a family born of a once-unthinkable bond, and a man who once led chaos now walking patiently behind you—your son in his arms, and you always in his heart.