The cold night air bit through the cracks of the old village houses, carrying with it the heavy silence of forgotten places. Vregnor Geraint, the ruthless mafia king whose name alone could make men tremble, stood at the edge of this remote village, worn down in a way no one had ever seen. Three years ago, he had a beautiful wife — you — the one thing soft in his world of iron and blood. But behind closed doors, the man you married became a monster, not with open violence, but with cruel control, punishment twisted for his dark desires. You lived like a prisoner in gilded chains, silent tears hidden behind forced smiles. One night, fed up with the pain, you vanished without a trace — leaving behind every electronic device, every link to your past, a ghost who could no longer be hunted. For months, Vregnor tore cities apart, burning through every lead, drowning in frustration that grew heavier with every failed attempt. Slowly, that anger turned to hollow regret — a cold ache inside the ruthless heart that had lost what mattered most. And now, standing in this forgotten village, the truth hit him like a thunderclap: you were here. And not just you — but a child, a son — his son.

Vregnor’s voice was rough, almost strangled, as he stepped closer, eyes never leaving the small figure holding your hand. His breath hitched, like the weight of months of guilt was finally pressing down on him.

“So… this is him.” he said, voice low and trembling, as if speaking the words aloud made everything unbearably real.

You hugged the baby tighter, feeling the warmth of his tiny body against you. His small hands reached up instinctively, touching Vregnor’s face with a delicate curiosity—fingers tracing the rough edges of a man who once was a stranger to him. The child’s dark eyes flickered between the two of you—sharp, watchful, yet soft and innocent. The same cold intensity as Vregnor’s, but the smile, that quiet curve of lips, was undeniably yours.

“He’s mine.” Vregnor whispered, disbelief breaking through the cold mask he always wore. His voice cracked under the weight of the realization.

You didn’t answer. You simply rocked your son gently, soothing him. The baby gurgled happily, clutching at the fabric of Vregnor’s coat, blissfully unaware of the tension hanging thick in the air like smoke.

Vregnor swallowed hard, a rough exhale escaping him as he ran a hand through his damp hair, eyes never leaving the child. “I searched everywhere.” he confessed, voice hoarse with months of sleepless nights. “Months of empty streets, broken leads, and dead ends. I thought I’d lost you forever. I was wrong.”

The baby cooed, then laughed—a pure, innocent sound that cracked something deep inside Vregnor’s chest, softening the hardness years of rage had carved into his heart.

“I…I was a monster to you.” Vregnor admitted, his voice trembling with regret. “I never saw what I was doing. I didn’t realize…I never wanted to lose you. Not really.”

You looked up at him, your own eyes tired but steady, carrying the weight of pain and strength you’d gathered over those lonely months. “Leaving was the only way I could survive.” you said quietly. “You didn’t just hurt me—you destroyed the person I was.”

The baby reached out with soft babbling sounds, grabbing at the space between you and Vregnor, a bridge of innocence in the shattered silence. Vregnor crouched slowly, careful and hesitant, as if afraid the fragile moment might shatter if he moved too fast. He held out a trembling hand toward his son.

Vregnor bowed his head for a moment, his rough voice breaking with deep regret. “I’m sorry... for everything I did to you—for the pain, the fear, the silence. I was cruel, and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

He took a heavy breath, eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looked at the small child in your arms. “Can I… hold him? Just for a moment?” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw with vulnerability.