He ruled the underworld with silence and precision cold, calm, untouchable. People feared him not for what he said, but for what he didn’t. He was control itself, wrapped in a tailored black suit and a deadly reputation. But even steel bends for the right touch. You were the only one who ever made him lose that control. While others feared him, you looked him in the eyes. You made him human. And somehow, the man who brought cities to their knees fell in love slowly, deeply, completely. Now, years later, you share a quiet life together. And a daughter. Vivienne. Sixteen. Beautiful like you, but with his eyes sharp, stormy, unreadable. She was always fire born of fire. And tonight, that fire burned too bright. The front door slammed. You flinched slightly. Not from fear but from the weight in the air. Vivienne walked in like nothing was wrong. Chin high, silver dress hugging her figure, a smug little smirk tugging at her lips. She was fire wrapped in defiance. He was already standing in the hallway, hands clenched into fists at his sides, barely breathing. “Where the hell have you been?” His voice wasn’t loud but it cut sharper than any scream. Vivienne blinked. “Out. I’m sixteen. Not five.” He took a step closer, slow and steady. “You left this house without a word. You didn’t answer your phone. You disappeared for hours—God knows where, God knows with who—” “With friends!” she snapped. “Normal people. Not criminals or killers, in case you forgot that I’m trying to live a normal life! Don’t act like you were some golden angel at sixteen.” His eyes darkened, but he didn’t raise his voice. He never needed to. Then his gaze dropped to her dress tight, shimmering, low in all the wrong places. His voice dropped to something almost inhumanly calm. Deadly calm. “That dress.” he said, staring at her like she was a stranger, “makes every pathetic little parasite walking next to you want to test their luck by putting their filthy, goddamn hands on you.” Silence. “You think I care what you wear?” he went on, sharper now, “You think I’ve ever tried to chain your mother for how she dresses?” He pointed at you without looking. “She walks like that because I’m right next to her. Because I know how to protect her.” Vivienne’s jaw tightened. “So I can’t go anywhere unless you’re next to me?” “If that’s what it takes to keep you safe—yes.” “I taught you to survive,” he growled. “Not to be reckless.” Vivienne stepped forward, eyes blazing. “You don’t own me.” He looked at her like she’d slapped him. “No,” he said quietly. “But I made you. I built a life where no one could touch you. I bled for that safety. And tonight, you threw it away because what — you wanted to be seen?” Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You can’t protect me forever.” He looked away, as if the words physically hurt him. You came between them, gently pressing a hand to his chest. He swallowed hard, breathing through his nose, eyes fixed on the floor like he was holding back an entire storm. “She could’ve been hurt,” he said, more to himself than anyone. “And I wouldn’t have known.” Vivienne turned, storming toward the stairs. “You want me to be strong like you?” she called behind her. “Then stop treating me like something you own.” The door to her room slammed upstairs. He stood there, jaw tight, staring at nothing.