Chapter 166 Chapter 166
Charles would never step near my home, and neither would anyone carrying similar intentions. I would restructure family event protocols if necessary: private gatherings only, controlled environments, and layered security disguised as hospitality so Tessa never felt watched yet remained protected.
I mapped it all automatically; schooling and future considerations surfaced next even though El barely learned to sit without assistance, vetted institutions, private tutors, transportation monitored, digital exposure minimized, and friendships evaluated carefully. Paranoid maybe, necessary absolutely
Behind me, Tessa watched silently because she always recognized when my thoughts moved somewhere darker.
"You’re planning again," she said gently.
I exhaled quietly because hiding from her never worked. "I’m preventing repetition," I replied. She stood slowly, joining me beside the crib, slipping her hand into mine while both of us looked down at the tiny person who changed everything.
"They don’t matter," she said softly.
"They do if they try again," I answered.
She turned toward me then, expression calm yet firm.
"I survived worse before you," she reminded me.
"I know," I said immediately, jaw tightening because that truth remained my greatest regret, "and that’s exactly why I won’t allow anything close to happening again."
Silence settled comfortably afterward, shared understanding replacing argument. El shifted slightly, making small sleepy noises, and both of us froze instinctively before realizing she remained asleep, earning quiet laughter between us.
I brushed my thumb along her tiny hand resting outside the blanket. So small, so defenseless, the world would not touch her unprepared.
I imagined future versions of her already: first steps, first words, school days, heartbreaks, disappointments, dangers waiting inevitably beyond childhood innocence, and something fierce rose inside me stronger than anything I felt before.
Empire building felt simple compared to fatherhood. I glanced at Tessa again, noticing exhaustion finally pulling at her, healing still ongoing despite her strength, and motherhood demanding more from her body and heart than anyone acknowledged fully. She sacrificed everything bringing El into this world; that alone made her untouchable.
"I mean it," I said quietly, pulling her closer, my arm wrapping around her shoulders while she rested against me. "No rumor, no accusation, no person changes what I know about you."
Her breath steadied against my chest. "I never doubted you either," she murmured.
I kissed her hair gently, feeling tension leave her body slowly, reassurance settling deeper than conversation alone.
We stayed there longer than necessary watching our daughter sleep, night stretching peacefully around us while house security lights flickered outside, confirming perimeter checks automatically, every system running, every safeguard active, still my mind continued adjusting, strengthening, and improving because love created weakness enemies could exploit if allowed, and I refused weakness.
Eventually Tessa yawned softly, laughing at herself before heading toward the door, pausing once more to glance back at El. "Come to bed," she whispered.
"In a minute," I answered.
She nodded understanding completely before leaving quietly. I remained alone beside the crib, listening to steady breathing filling the room, calmly anchoring something restless inside me. My daughter and my wife, my entire world condensed into two sleeping hearts depending on me without question.
Anyone foolish enough to threaten that peace would learn quickly that fatherhood had not softened me; it had refined me. I adjusted the blanket once more before stepping back toward the doorway, pausing for one final look.
TESSA
One year
I never understood how people said time moved slowly with children because one moment I was terrified to even hold her without help, and the next I blinked and my daughter was standing in the middle of the living room wobbling proudly on unsteady legs like she owned the entire world.
Elowen was now one.
One whole year of sleepless nights, soft laughter, panic-filled doctor calls, first smiles, first sounds, tiny hands grabbing everything within reach, and somehow every exhausting moment blended into something beautiful enough that I found myself wishing time would slow down just a little.
She stood near the couch, gripping the edge with determination written across her tiny face, golden brown curls bouncing around her cheeks while sunlight poured through the windows behind her, turning her almost glowing. She looked more like Zaiel every day.
Fair skin soft and warm, thick lashes framing impossibly bright eyes that watched everything with curiosity, cheeks round and permanently flushed like she carried happiness inside her blood, and those cheeks
Perfectly chubby, impossible not to kiss, the kind that made strangers smile instantly whenever we went anywhere because El had never learned suspicion yet, only joy. She spotted me watching her and squealed loudly.
"Mama"
The word still destroyed me every single time; I dropped onto the rug, opening my arms immediately, and she launched herself forward without hesitation, legs barely cooperating yet confidence entirely unmatched, falling straight into me with breathless laughter.
I caught her easily, pulling her close while she grabbed my face with sticky little hands smelling faintly of fruit snacks and whatever mystery food she convinced Dad to give her earlier.
"You’re getting faster," I laughed, pressing kisses against her cheek while she giggled violently, trying to escape.
Her laugh sounded like pure sunlight. Behind us, Dad sat in his usual chair near the window pretending to read while absolutely watching every movement she made, pride written openly across his face. He adored her completely.
My dad spent mornings in the garden teaching her how to touch leaves gently, afternoons letting her crawl beside him while he talked endlessly about plants she obviously didn’t understand, and somehow she listened seriously like every word mattered.
"Dad, she’s running now," I said teasingly.
He lowered his book, smiling warmly.
"She takes after her mother," he replied.
I snorted because that was generous considering I trip walking across flat floors regularly. El clapped suddenly, demanding attention again before waddling toward her toys scattered across the living room, determination unmatched as she dropped dramatically onto the carpet to inspect a stuffed animal like it required urgent evaluation. Her tiny fingers worked carefully, brows furrowed exactly like Zaiel when concentrating.
That similarity still caught me off guard sometimes. A year ago I feared losing her before even meeting her, and now she filled every room with life, so silence felt unnatural when she slept.
Upstairs footsteps sounded, and El’s head snapped toward the staircase, instantly recognizing them before I even turned.
"Dada"
She squealed again, already pushing herself upright.
Zaiel appeared seconds later, freshly changed after work, yet immediately softer the moment he saw her, his entire posture shifting in ways only she managed. She ran toward him, arms raised dramatically, demanding pickup like royalty expecting service. He didn’t even pretend resistance.
He scooped her up instantly, lifting her high enough to make her shriek with laughter while kissing her cheek repeatedly.
"There’s my girl," he murmured proudly.
Watching him as a father still amazed me; the man who once terrified entire boardrooms now spent evenings crawling across floors pretending to be defeated by a one-year-old holding a stuffed rabbit. She grabbed his tie immediately, trying to chew it.