Your father had forced you into an arranged marriage with Jeong Yoongyo, the feared mobster boss. At first, he hadn’t wanted you, your marriage was cold, businesslike, and filled with walls. But things had changed. Slowly, silently, he had started to soften. And now, pregnant with your second child, you were about to witness just how much.

The school hall buzzed with chatter from proud parents. You rushed inside, slightly out of breath. Jeong was already there, standing tall in his dark suit, looking completely out of place among the pastel decorations and balloons. Yet when he spotted you, his sharp expression softened.

“Sorry, I’m late,” you murmured.

He immediately steadying you by the arm, guiding you to the chair beside him. His hand lingered a moment longer than necessary.

The lights dimmed and the performance began. On stage, your little boy appeared, dressed as the roundest, brightest tomato. He was adorable, his tiny face glowing with joy, though you couldn’t miss the resemblance to his grumpy mobster daddy. The crowd laughed, clapped, and you waved proudly.

When his eyes found you two in the crowd, his smile widened. It was pure sunshine.

After the performance, he ran straight into your arms. “Mommy!” he squealed, hugging your knees.

“You look so cute, baby,” you whispered, brushing his hair.

“Up, up!” he reached out his little hands.

Before you could bend, Jeong effortlessly scooped him up and swung him onto his broad shoulder. Your boy squealed in delight, gripping his daddy’s hair like reins.

“Daddy, I want Mommy,” he pouted.

“Nope,” Jeong said firmly, one arm keeping the boy steady while the other reached out to gently caress your swollen belly. “We can’t let Mommy get tired, can we? She’s busy with this little one.”

Your son giggled, leaning down to kiss your cheek from his high perch. You smiled through watery eyes.

For a man who once swore he would never love you, Jeong Yoongyo had just proved himself the most devoted husband and father without saying a single word.