It was a Saturday.
A rare, blessed weekend without conference calls or emails. Aurora clung to the illusion of normalcy as she strolled through the park with Noah, her hand in his tiny one, the other carrying a bag of snacks and juice boxes. The air was crisp, sunshine dripping through the trees in golden streaks. Birds chirped. Laughter echoed from the nearby playground.
For a few hours, she could pretend the weight of the world wasn't sitting on her shoulders.
"Can I go down the slide again?" Noah asked, already tugging at her hand.
"Only if you promise not to jump off the top like a superhero this time."
He grinned, all baby teeth and mischief. "I am a superhero."
Aurora ruffled his hair. "Then go save the world, kiddo."
She settled onto a bench near the play structure, keeping a vigilant eye on him. Her phone buzzed in her bag. She reached for it, fingers hesitating when she saw the name.
Damien Blackwood.
Her pulse jumped. He hadn't texted her since showing up at her door. And now—
Can we talk Monday? Something off the record.
Short. Direct. Trouble.
She didn't get the chance to type a reply.
A child's squeal rang out. Not fear—excitement. But still, enough to send her head snapping up.
And that's when her world shifted.
Damien stood at the edge of the playground.
He wasn't alone. His assistant Lena was a few feet behind, talking into her phone. But he wasn't looking at her. He wasn't even looking at Aurora.
He was watching Noah.
Frozen.
Noah had taken a tumble near the bottom of the slide and landed with a laugh, and Damien—who had no reason to notice children—was suddenly moving toward him.
No. No, no, no...
Aurora shot up, cutting across the mulch just as Damien crouched near the boy.
"You alright, little man?" Damien asked, voice uncharacteristically gentle.
Noah beamed. "I landed like a ninja!"
Damien chuckled. "You did. That's some solid technique."
Aurora's breath caught.
They looked at each other—father and son—mirrored features like puzzle pieces she had spent five years protecting.
Gray eyes. Same lashes. Same dimple that only appeared when they smiled wide.
She moved faster.
"Noah," she called, forcing calm into her tone. "Time for a juice break, sweetheart."
Noah spun. "Mommy! I met a man with ninja eyes!"
Damien straightened slowly, turning toward her as if in slow motion.
"Aurora."
Her name on his lips held none of the usual control. Just confusion. Recognition.
She held Noah close, his juice box pressed to his chest like a shield.
"You two know each other?" Noah asked innocently, looking between them.
Silence stretched.
Aurora's throat worked. "Mr. Blackwood is a client at my firm."
Damien stared at her, something dawning behind his cool expression. "He's your son?"
She didn't answer.
Couldn't.
The weight of her silence was louder than any confirmation.
His voice dropped. "How old is he?"
She flinched.
Noah blinked up at her, sensing something shift. "Mommy?"
Aurora knelt beside him. "Go play a little more, okay? Just the swings."
He obeyed—reluctantly—watching her with the uncanny intuition that always made her chest ache.
Damien waited until Noah was out of earshot.
"You lied to me."
"No," she said, "I didn't tell you. There's a difference."
"Don't play word games with me, Aurora. How old is he?"
She stood slowly, spine stiff. "Five."
His jaw clenched. "Exactly five?"
She hesitated. "Five and two months."
He dragged a hand through his hair. "Jesus."
She watched him, every emotion on his face like a blow to the gut—shock, betrayal, rage… and something else. Something that scared her even more.
Longing.
"I didn't plan for this," she said quietly. "I didn't even know who you were that night. You left before I woke up. There was no number. No name."
His voice was low. "And when you did find out who I was?"
"I made a choice," she said. "To protect him. From your world. From your power."
Damien stepped closer, eyes stormy. "He's my son. You don't get to make that decision alone."
Aurora lifted her chin, fire flashing. "I had to. He's not a business acquisition, Damien. He's a boy. My boy. And I won't let you turn him into another pawn in your empire."
They stared each other down, the air between them crackling with the weight of what had been revealed.
And then, Noah called out.
"Mommy! Look! I'm swinging high!"
Aurora turned toward the sound—tears burning in her eyes—and for the first time, Damien Blackwood watched his son and realized:
He'd already lost five years.
He wasn't willing to lose another day.