I told him about Eli's first smile, which had come at six weeks old, a gummy expression of pure joy that had cracked my heart wide open. His first steps, taken in the nursery while Vernon was away at a campaign event, Rosa and I cheering him on in whispered voices. The way he called me Daddy in a voice that made everything worth it, that made every bruise and every humiliation fade into background noise.
I told him about Rosa, who had become my lifeline, who had helped me plan an escape that took two years to execute. About the money I'd squirreled away in accounts Vernon didn't know about, the documents I'd forged, the network of safe houses Rosa's family maintained across three states.
I told him about Eli's fear of alphas, about the way he flinched from loud male voices, about the damage Vernon had done to both of us in his years of control.
"He's three years old," I said, my voice hoarse from crying. "He has Vernon's coloring but my grandmother's eyes. And he's the best thing I've ever done. The only good thing to come out of my time with Vernon."
Min-ho listened without interrupting. His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand, a small constant comfort that kept me grounded when the memories threatened to pull me under.
"I want to meet him," he said when I'd finished. "When you're ready. When he's ready. I want to be part of his life, if you'll let me."
"He's afraid of alphas."
"Then I'll learn to be an alpha he doesn't need to fear."
The simplicity of it broke me open all over again. Not a demand. Not an expectation. Just a promise, offered freely, to reshape himself around my son's needs.
I pressed my face against Min-ho's chest and let the bond wrap around us both, warm and steady and safe. For the first time since before Vernon, I let myself believe that things might actually be okay.
That I might actually get to keep this.
***
Chapter 10
Min-ho
The next day and a half unfolded in fragments of conversation and silence.
We talked in bed, tangled together under the white sheets, Dalvin's head on my chest and my fingers tracing idle patterns on his shoulder. We talked over meals delivered by discreet staff who never lingered. We talked in the deep hours of the night when sleep wouldn't come, our voices soft in the darkness, filling the years of absence with words we should have spoken long ago.
Dalvin told me about Vernon in detail I hadn't asked for but needed to hear. The escalating control. The isolation. The calculated cruelty designed to break him without leaving marks. He told me about the night he'd decided to run, about the fear and the hope and the desperate gamble of trusting Rosa with his son's life.
In return, I told him about my mother.
"She came to my dorm room the night they took you," I said. "I was packing, ready to go after you. She told me that if I left, I would no longer be her son."
Dalvin's hand tightened on my chest. He was tense against me, a flare of protective fury rising in his chest.
"I told her I didn't care. That I'd rather lose my family than lose you." I stared at the ceiling. "She said that was the problem. That I was sick, that what I felt for you was aperversion. I graduated the next morning. She didn't come. I haven't spoken to her since."
"All that time." Dalvin's voice was barely a whisper. "You haven't spoken to your mother since Ashworth."
"She made her choice. I made mine. I would make the same choice again."
We lay in silence, the weight of shared grief settling around us.
"The headlines are going to be ugly," Dalvin said. "You know that. 'Senator's Omega Claimed by Step-Brother in Chase Scandal.' Vernon's lawyers will use it."
"I know." My jaw tightened. "I've already talked to Garrett. He's connected with a media attorney and a family law firm that specializes in omega custody cases. The step-sibling angle is uncomfortable, but it's not illegal. We were never blood-related. The marriage between our parents lasted two years and ended over a decade ago."
"That's not how the headlines will frame it."
"No. But headlines aren't legal arguments. And Vernon has bigger problems than our story." He paused. "Garrett's been feeding information to a journalist. Financial records, staff testimony, things I've collected over the years. By the time Vernon tries to use our relationship against us, he'll be too busy defending himself to fight a custody battle."
Then Dalvin asked the question I'd been dreading.
"The investigators you hired. How much did you spend?"
