chapter 50

Amaira gently pushed open the grand doors of her home, still holding Alex—no, Justin—by the hand."We’re home, baby," she whispered.Justin stepped inside, his small fingers curling slightly. His eyes widened.The entire living room was lit up with soft, golden lights. Balloons, ribbons, and decorations filled the space. A banner hung above, "Happy Birthday, Alex!" in elegant calligraphy.Justin’s breath hitched.A birthday setup.For a six-year-old.His heart clenched strangely.Amaira, noticing his stunned expression, smiled warmly. He must be wanting another cake."You want more cake, don’t you?" she teased.Justin blinked. He hadn’t expected her to assume that, but before he could respond, Amaira was already rolling up her sleeves."I’ll make you one myself."He watched, silent yet fascinated, as Amaira skillfully moved around the kitchen, whipping up a cake from scratch. She hummed softly—a soothing tune that felt oddly familiar.Minutes later, a warm, freshly baked cake was set before him."Let’s eat together," she said, cutting him a slice.The first bite melted in his mouth. Soft. Sweet.Warm.Justin didn’t know why, but something about this moment—the soft glow of the lights, the kindness in Amaira’s voice, the way she looked at him with genuine love—made his chest ache.He hadn’t felt this kind of warmth before.By the time the cake was finished, his eyelids were drooping."Sleepy?" Amaira asked gently.Justin hesitated. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to be alone tonight.He reached out and clutched the hem of her dress."Can I sleep with you?" He murmured.Amaira’s heart softened. Poor thing must have been through something traumatic tonight.She nodded. "Of course, sweetheart."She scooped him up, carrying him to her room. Tucking him under the softest blankets, she lay beside him, stroking his hair.Justin, feeling safe, closed his eyes.Amaira kissed his forehead, whispering, "Good night, Alex."And just like that, Justin—who had never known a mother’s true warmth—fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of his life.***Alex sat on the plush bed, gripping the phone in his small hands. His fingers hovered over the screen. He wanted to text his mother—tell her he was safe, ask her to pick him up.But before he could type, a large hand took the phone away."No calls, no messages."Alex looked up, frowning. Nicolo stood tall beside the bed, arms crossed."Why?" Alex demanded."Because it’s late," Nicolo said simply. "Sleep first. You can talk to your mother tomorrow."Alex pouted, crossing his arms. "But she must be worried."Nicolo sighed, crouching down to his level. "She will manage. For now, just rest, kid." Nicolo knew that Selena would try to woo his son to coming back home early as possible. She is good with words and emotionally blackmailing.Something about the way Nicolo spoke made Alex pause.This man… he was strict, but not exactly cold. He didn’t seem bad—just different from how his mother always described his 'dead father.'And the way he looked at him… it was weirdly warm. Protective, even.Alex hesitated before asking, "You… you really are my dad?" Nicolo’s brows lifted slightly."What do you think?"Alex stared at him.He wasn’t sure.He didn’t feel scared with Nicolo. But at the same time… something felt off.Maybe his mom would explain when he went back tomorrow.Deciding to push away his thoughts for now, Alex let out a small yawn and lay down on his soft bed.Nicolo watched as the little boy turned to his side, curling up under the blankets. His small body barely took up space in the massive bed."Go to sleep," Nicolo said, his voice softer now.Alex didn’t reply. His mind was too busy.He still had so many questions, but tomorrow—tomorrow, he would meet his mysterious friend. And after that, he would go back home.Back to his mother.Nicolo stood by the bedside for a moment longer, then reached out and gently ruffled Alex’s hair. It was a strange habit of his—one he never really did to anyone but Justin.Alex blinked up at him, surprised."Sleep well, kid," Nicolo muttered before turning off the lights and leaving the room.As the door clicked shut, Alex lay in the darkness, gripping the edge of the blanket."Who are you, really?" he whispered, staring at the ceiling.But no one answered.***Nicolo leaned against the doorframe for a moment, staring at the small figure curled up on the bed. Something about tonight had unsettled him. He knew Justin well—his quiet demeanor, his small, rare smiles, his hesitance to speak. But tonight, something was different.The boy had protested for the first time, something Justin had never done before. And now, even in sleep, there was something unfamiliar yet strangely endearing about him. He looked peaceful, yet there was a liveliness about him that Justin rarely showed.A small sigh escaped Nicolo’s lips as he stepped closer, brushing a hand over the boy’s dark hair. He wasn’t sure why, but his heart softened just a little more than usual. Maybe it was the exhaustion of the day, maybe it was the way the boy had held onto his coat earlier as if seeking comfort, or maybe it was something else—something he couldn’t quite place.With a quiet exhale, Nicolo turned off the bedside lamp and sat on the couch nearby, keeping a silent watch over his son.