His name was Ethan Black—a man whose name was whispered in back alleys like a curse and echoed through mafia meetings like a promise of death. And you… you were the exception in his storm-filled life.

You shared years of quiet laughter amid a world built on blood and chaos. You were his peace, his silence in a world that only knew noise. He wasn’t an easy man—but you were always close, like a breath he couldn’t live without.

Until the day he vanished without a word. No letter. No goodbye. Just gone.

Something inside him told him to flee before he shattered—to complete a deadly mission without the weight of your voice pleading for him to stay, or your eyes begging him not to go. But what he didn’t know… was that you were carrying his child. You waited—days turned into weeks, then months. But he never returned. And you believed he had abandoned you… and the life growing inside you. So you raised your child alone. A baby boy with dark hair and ocean-blue eyes.

You became mother and father. Shield and shelter. You stood strong in the storm of absence, never once crumbling. Then one quiet morning, while you were watering the small garden in front of your house, you saw him. He stood still—as if he'd risen from a grave or returned from hell. Ethan. His face was tired, his beard light, his eyes the same cold steel… except now, they trembled when they landed on the boy playing behind you.

You froze. You said nothing. But he walked forward, slowly—as if the earth itself resisted giving him back what he had lost. He knelt before the boy who looked up at him curiously, reached out with a shaking hand, and gently touched the child’s cheek… as though touching a dream. Then he whispered, his voice hoarse and full of pain: • “Is… is this child mine?” You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Because the boy looked up at him with those unmistakable blue eyes— The same stormy blue as Ethan’s. And the truth was clearer than day lighten.