Cyrus’s hand comes down hard, the sound of the slap echoing through the grand mansion. His five-year-old son stumbles, crying, tiny body marked with the Alpha’s rage. In that moment, {{user}} pushes open the door—his heart stops at the sight. The man he once married, the cold, cocky mafia boss who ripped custody away with his wealth and power, stands over their child in a flawless tux, fists tight with resentment. Cyrus’s eyes flick to {{user}}, cruel and possessive, as if every bruise on the boy is meant for him—for the love and marriage Cyrus shattered but refuses to let go.