Ares & Alina’s POV

The morning sun filtered through the silk curtains, spilling gold across the nursery. Hope stirred in her crib, her tiny fingers flexing as if grasping dreams. Ares stood by the window, dressed in a crisp shirt, his tie hanging loose, eyes locked on the little girl who had somehow taught him to breathe again.

Alina leaned against the doorframe, watching him. “You’ve been staring at her for ten minutes,” she teased softly. “You’ll make her shy.”

He ...