In every step to success, there is a silver lining. For Caius, it was a silver lining—but the silver was replaced by shards of thorns and shattered glass. He remembered the twelve years spent in the lowest ground: beneath his loving mother's tomb, beneath the servants' quarters, beneath his father's filthy lackeys.
Chained and wired to fight every person who came his way.
"You wanna get out? Finish all of them."
The ice-cold hiss of his father's chuckle still resonated in him after so many years. He never knew freedom, and no one ever came near without the intent to kill him or strangle him in his sleep. Nothing meant anything to him. But... it all changed that one night.
He broke the chains.
Their screeching and wails, the children and the blood, his family all lay to waste. Memories as fresh as cucumbers in due season.
"Sir, we've gotten a pin on Young Master."
Sitting in the middle of an azure room, he raised his head to face his butler. "Who tipped you this time?"
The old man bowed slightly before answering. "This time it's our own intel. They found a news headline." As he walked towards the obsidian office table, he glanced at his master—a young man with unblinking eyes.
There was a saying from where he came from: humans are never born with eyes completely black. Even those with the darkest pupils still carried shades of brown. A human was human when you could see the pupil of their eye separately. His master, however, had blank obsidian eyes.
He had served him for years since the great purge, but he still couldn't tell which part was pupil and which was iris. Back from where he came from... pupils void of light only appeared in humans who were possessed.
"What unfortunate situation has my dear son put himself in this time..." Caius muttered, taking the newspaper the butler handed over. On the fourth page, bold letters read:
"THE FAMOUS PATISSERIE CHEF TAKES A TURN: MOTHERHOOD."
Toby listened to a dry hmp! and a chuckle. He watched as the man shared a glance with him.
"It's been three years, and this is what that little brat is up to?"
Caius received a nod and a humble smile. "They're currently in the Philippines. The picture of the woman isn't included, as she is very private."
At that comment, Caius's eyes blinked. "I initially hoped he died."
Toby sighed. Of course—his master had never been the fatherly type. His son had been in an accident, a grave one at that. Caius did not offer further response. It was time to give orders.
The boy in the newspaper was his son. He had to bring him back.
"We set out tomorrow. Call ten of my men and handle the household until I return."
"Yes, sir." Toby lowered his head as the heavy presence rose from the chair and strode toward the exit. "I'll see to it that everything is taken care of."
The other hummed.
"Make sure that boy is locked up well next time."
Motherhood. Odette never saw it coming. One act—taking a lost child home—and their bond had grown so strong.
Gideon was eight now. It had been three years since she found him at her shop. To this day, no one has come to look for him. No posters, no social media announcements, not even a news headline.
"Mama!"
She was stirring butter and garlic for dinner. At the cheerful voice of her legally adopted son, she set the spatula aside and looked over. His little head bobbed at the dinner table, his small feet swinging underneath.
"Did you finish watching the movie, baby?"
Gideon raised his face above the table and nodded. "It was good." He hopped down from the chair and walked toward her, tracing the wall with one hand, holding a tea bun in the other.
She had spent three years with this child and noticed how quiet and slow to speak he was. Unlike other children in kindergarten, he observed more. He watched people and remembered details well enough to tell her about them after a tiring day at school. He was skilled at dancing, drawing, and especially mathematics—something Odette never mastered.
"Wait a little bit, and I'll make your favorite, okay?" She kissed his forehead, but he held onto her as she pulled back. That meant only one thing.
Odette chuckled, wiped her hands on her pants, and lifted him onto the kitchen counter beside the sugar jar.
"Thank you, Mama."
Gideon had never felt love like this. He had always been locked in a room or taken out with Uncle Toby. Never had he been lifted, cuddled, or given arms to cry in. Every action once punished or frowned upon, now cherished. These years were heaven. She was his mama, and he loved her.
He glanced at the sugar jar with a sly grin, giggling. Odette knew what he was up to. She squished his little nose gently.
"Go easy on it."
"Eeeasyyy..." he repeated, laughing.
This was the life they had both chased without knowing: not romance, not money, but something better... family.
That night, after tucking Gideon in and kissing his hands, Odette left the lamp on and the door ajar. Her mind was at ease.
Then—thud.
She froze. Another Thud, thud!
Someone was knocking.
*Ding-dong.*
Whoever it was had found the bell.
"Who is it?" Odette raised her voice as she walked past the living room. I'm not expecting anyone today... Could it be work?
*THUD! THUD!*
"Coming..." She unlocked the door and opened it.
A man stood before her, silk shirt tucked into black trousers. Behind him, three men in professional gear—earpieces, and barely concealed guns.
She was struck by the heavy gaze that met her. Dead black pupils. She stepped back instinctively, holding the door halfway closed.
"Who—"
He seemed as taken aback as she was. His searing gaze traveled over her, searching for answers.
"Um..." Odette cleared her throat. "How can I help you?"
Caius couldn't believe it. It was her. That scent—never wrong, never replicated. That voice—hers alone. Memories flooded him: the wounds, the choice she made to save him, not run away.
"Don't be scared..."
The words echoed in his mind. Relief, gratitude, release. For once, the battle inside him eased.
He found her—the woman who saved him when he courted death. The woman with round eyes radiating warmth that no sun could rival. Her hair, messy and pushed aside, her face weary from the day—yet still beautiful, bold, persevering.
Odette grew nervous. His gaze was intense, worsened when he smiled. The grin did not fit his sharp jawline, nor did his almond-shaped eyes adapt naturally to the emotion. He looked like he had escaped an asylum.
Overwhelmed, she tried to slam the door shut. But his hand shot out, gripping the edge and forcing it open. She stumbled back.
He was inside now.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "You can't just trespass! I'll call the police!"
Caius smiled. "May I know your name?"
Her brows furrowed, anger rising. "You broke into my house. YOU name yourself first." She reached toward a lamp, trying not to panic. Gideon was asleep—she could not risk them waking him.
The stranger nodded slowly, scanning the room. "I am Caius Alles Constantine..." His eyes traced her bare feet, her body. "My son Gideon... is here, isn't he?"
Her heart dropped.
"Your son?"
"Yes. He's mine. I lost him during a trip to the Philippines."
He took a step closer, noticing her near the lamp, an old defensive trick.
Odette shook her head. "You'll have to prove it. I won't hand over my son to just any man."
Interesting.
"That's quite unfortunate then." His voice was smooth, but hunger laced it. "Initially, I wanted to take him and leave you here... but it seems you'll also have to come with me."
Odette felt the wall at her back. His face was inches from hers. He leaned in, inhaling her scent.
Then—
A scream.
From Gideon's room.
Odette turned to run, but everything went black as a cloth clamped over her mouth and nose. Her vision blurred. Gideon's cries echoed in her ears, along with the hiss of heavy breathing behind her.