Chapter 2 2

"You?" Zaya said, staring at the little boy in front of her. Her phone nearly slipped from her hand.

He nodded, his eyes wide and soft. "You promised you wouldn't leave me," he whispered, then threw his tiny arms around her waist.

Zaya bent down slowly, arms wrapping around him in return. "Oh, come here," she murmured, holding him tight.

Just three hours earlier before Fred's unexpected surprise, she had found him crying by the corner of a busy street. His face was streaked with tears.

He'd been alone, scared, wandering around calling for his father who never showed up.

A group of teenage boys had started circling him-laughing, teasing, threatening to snatch the small backpack he clung to like his life depended on it.

Zaya didn't think twice. She'd rushed in, pulled him away, and scared the boys off with words she didn't even remember now. He hadn't let go of her hand after that.

"I'm Zaya," she had told him while gently wiping his cheeks with a tissue from her purse. "We'll find your dad, okay?"

She had dropped him off at a security post near the bus station, leaving him in the care of an older woman who promised to call the local police.

But now... here he was, standing right in front of her again. How did he even find her?

She pulled back slightly, scanning his small face. "How did you find me, baby?"

"I just walked. I knew you'd be here," he said, with the kind of faith only a child could carry.

Zaya knelt down again, gently brushing the boy's curls off his forehead. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

He sniffled once and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Tristan," he said. "I'm five."

She gave him a soft smile. "Where are you from, Tristan? How did you get lost?"

He looked down at his little shoes, his voice barely a whisper. "My daddy's always busy... He was on the phone again. I just wanted to play." He peeked up at her. "So I ran away from my bodyguard. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to see the water fountain."

Zaya's heart clenched. A rich kid. She could already picture it-his dad in a suit, walking ahead without looking back, while the bodyguard scrambled behind with no clue the boy had disappeared.

She tucked a hand under his chin gently. "Tristan... who's your dad?"

He blinked, then pointed to himself with a little grin. "My dad? He's Killian Wolfe."

Zaya blinked hard. "Killian Wolfe?"

The name rang like thunder in her head. She knew the name rang bells. She grabbed her phone quickly, typing the name in her search engine. The screen lit up instantly.

Tall and powerful. In every article, every photo-he looked like a man who didn't take 'no' for an answer. Jet-black hair, sharp jawline, expensive suits, and eyes that looked like they could slice through steel.

*"His toned abs, inked with tattoos from luxury destinations around the world, told stories of money, freedom, and a life lived on his own terms."*

But something didn't make sense.

She scrolled and scrolled.

He wasn't married. Not a single article mentioned a wife. No partner. Nothing about a child either.

Her thumb paused mid-scroll as she stared at one particular photo-Killian stepping out of a luxury car, sunglasses on.

Then she looked at Tristan again. The same eyes. The same jaw.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "How do you have a kid, Killian Wolfe?"

She smiled and gently ran her fingers through his curls. "Come on, let's get you to safety, yeah? It's already midnight."

Tristan nodded and held her hand tightly, his little fingers curling around hers like he was afraid she'd vanish again.

They started walking slowly, Zaya glancing around the quiet, dim street for any sign of a patrol or a helpful stranger, but the city was asleep.

After a moment, she looked down at him. "Tristan... where's your mom?"

He was quiet. His grip on her hand tightened a bit.

Zaya stopped walking and crouched beside him. "It's okay. You can tell me."

Tristan looked up at her, his eyes suddenly a little glassy. "Daddy says she's in the stars."

Zaya blinked. "The stars?"

He nodded. "He told me she was the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world. But her heart was too soft... so she couldn't stay.

He said she loved me so much, but she had to go away... up, up, up into the sky. And when I miss her, I should look up and wave."

Zaya's heart twisted as she watched him point his tiny finger toward the sky.

"I always wave," Tristan added quietly. "Even when no one sees. Because she's watching."

Zaya swallowed hard, blinking fast. Her voice came out rougher than she wanted. "That's a really beautiful thing, Tristan."

He looked up at her with wide, trusting eyes. "Daddy said when I'm brave, like today, she smiles brighter in the stars."

She pulled him into a soft hug, whispering, "You're the bravest little boy I've ever met."

They got to Zaya's small apartment, the quiet sound of the fridge was the only sound as she gently dropped Tristan on the old but clean couch.

"Make yourself comfy, little guy," she said with a small smile, brushing the hair from his eyes.

He looked around, wide-eyed. "It's cozy here."

Zaya chuckled. "Glad you think so."

She headed to the bedroom and quickly changed into something casual-a loose t-shirt and shorts. Her feet were sore, her heart still aching from earlier.

She walked back out and knelt beside him. "Tomorrow, we'll take you to your dad, okay? But for now... just rest a little."

"Okay," he whispered with a smile, already curling up on the couch like it was his own bed.

She covered him with a soft throw blanket and brushed a kiss on his forehead.

But just as she turned to switch off the lights, a loud, urgent knock rattled the door.