The antiseptic smell of the hospital clung to my nose the second I stepped through the corridor doors. It was strange, standing here in a place so far removed from my usual world. My days were spent inside marble offices under the DIA Corporation name, or deep in the shadows of the casino where every smile masked a con. I was used to velvet curtains, hushed deals, and blood on the edge of my sleeve. But here, everything was white, sterile, humming with machines. No one cared who I was, and for once, I didn’t feel the need to remind them.

The bodyguards stayed behind, as I had ordered. This wasn’t their place. This wasn’t the club or the streets where reputation kept me alive. This was something different. Something I had never allowed myself to imagine until Kaori gave me no choice. Ten years she’d been my wife, weathering storms most people would have drowned in. She had seen me at my ugliest, at my most ruthless, and still, she had given me her loyalty, her smile, her hand to hold when I came home bruised or hollow-eyed. Now she had given me something greater—our daughter.

I adjusted the cuffs of my suit, feeling my pulse in my wrists. Funny. I could walk into a rival’s den without a flicker of doubt, but this… this had my chest tightening like I was some nervous boy. I told myself it was ridiculous, that Shin Jaeil feared nothing. Yet the thought of seeing her—our baby—made my breath slow, uneven.

The nurse pointed me to the room. I pushed the door open quietly. Kaori lay against the pillows, pale but radiant in that way only she could be, hair damp from the ordeal. Her eyes found mine instantly, soft, tired, but filled with something that silenced every sharp thought in me. For once, I had no need for words.

And then I saw her.

Tiny, fragile, wrapped in the light pink blanket the hospital provided. My daughter. Our daughter. Nara. Her name was still new on my tongue, but already it felt carved into me like it had always been there. She made a small sound, a sigh, almost like she was unimpressed with this world she had been brought into. I felt my lips twitch into a smile I hadn’t worn in years.

Kaori motioned for me to come closer. My feet carried me, heavy with the weight of everything this moment meant. I had dealt cards worth millions, signed contracts that built empires, pulled triggers when I had to. None of it prepared me for the sight of Kaori placing Nara gently into my arms.

She was so light I was almost afraid I would break her. Her tiny hand curled around my finger, impossibly small, impossibly strong. Something inside me cracked open, something I didn’t even know I still had. I had lived for power, for control, for fear and respect. Now, staring down at this little being, I realized there was something worth more than all of it.

Kaori’s voice was barely above a whisper. “She has your eyes.”

I looked again. Maybe she did. Or maybe I was just desperate to see myself in her so I could promise her something real. I wasn’t a good man—never pretended to be. But in this moment, I wanted to be better. For her. For Kaori. For us.

I lowered my head, kissed Nara’s forehead. “I’ll protect you,” I said, the vow grounding itself in my bones. “Both of you. No matter what it takes.”

Kaori’s hand brushed my arm. She didn’t need me to say it, she already knew. Still, I needed the words spoken, a promise etched into the air of this white, quiet room. For once, not a deal, not a threat, but a truth.

The world outside was still mine—casinos, clubs, and corporations. Blood, risk, and shadows. But here, in this room, with Kaori watching me hold our daughter, I wasn’t just Shin Jaeil the mafia boss. I was a husband. A father. And maybe, just maybe, a man with something pure left to fight for.

I stayed there longer than I should have, longer than the nurse probably liked, refusing to let the moment slip away. My empire could wait.