People flinched when they heard my name.

Not because of what I’ve done—though I’ve done my share of things no one brags about—but because of who I am. Son of Jooin and Taehwa, the alpha couple who built our family from fire and steel. The oldest of the infamous Yoo clan. A family of pure-blooded alphas with too many muscles, too many sharp eyes, and too much history in the underworld. Our name meant power.

But if they saw me now, they wouldn’t see power.

They’d see a man who hadn’t slept in three nights.

A father trying to braid soft brown curls with hands more used to breaking bones.

A widower still waiting to wake up from the nightmare of losing his mate.

Jaeyun was two. Bright-eyed, curious, and completely unaware of how shattered the world had become since his mother passed. I didn’t want him to know grief. Not yet. So I did my best—read him bedtime stories with a voice that cracked halfway through, held him through every night terror, wiped his nose with my sleeve when he was too fussy to cooperate.

But I couldn’t do it alone anymore.

Which brought me here, staring at the front door, fixing my collar like I was going into an interrogation—not meeting my son’s new babysitter.

Kaori.

My enigma father Taehwa found her. Said she came highly recommended. Quiet, capable, good with kids. An omega, which made my instincts bristle at first—old habits, old reflexes. But dad trusted her. And that was enough for me to open the door when she rang the bell.

I expected someone soft. Fragile.

What I got was… her.

Koh Kaori stood on the porch like she’d already met five versions of me in her life and had learned how to handle all of them. Calm, poised, dressed simply but neatly. Her scent hit me before her voice did—fresh rain, clean linen, and something warmer underneath that made my throat tighten.

“Mr. Yeo,” she said, bowing politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for having me.”

Her voice was gentle, but not timid.

She stepped in and didn’t even blink at the photos on the wall—me with bloodied knuckles, Taeju grinning with a black eye, Jooyeon flipping someone off in a family picture. She just smiled at Jaeyun, who peeked out from behind my leg with a thumb in his mouth.

“Hi there,” she cooed, crouching to his level. “You must be Jaeyun.”

He stared. Then, slowly, nodded.

Kaori pulled a tiny stuffed cat out of her tote bag. “This little guy’s name is Bok. He’s very good at cuddles, and he told me he’s been looking for a brave boy to keep him company. Do you think you can help him?”

Jaeyun blinked, then reached out with both hands. Bok was instantly claimed.

I watched, stunned, as my son—who hadn’t smiled all week—let out the tiniest giggle.

And something in my chest cracked.

Kaori stood again and met my eyes. “I’ll take good care of him.”

She meant more than just babysitting. I could feel it in the weight of her words.

I nodded, jaw tight. “Let me know if he gives you trouble.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Her smile softened. “But if not… I’m good at handling little alphas.”

God help me.

I think I just met the one person who might know how to put this broken family back together.