Morning arrived reluctantly, as though the city itself resented daylight.
Zachery woke before his alarm, the remnants of restless dreams clinging to him like damp sheets. For a moment, he lay still, listening to the distant hum of traffic, the rhythmic clatter of pipes in the walls, the soft breathing coming from the small bedroom down the hall.
Zane.
That sound anchored him.
Zachery rose quietly, moving through the apartment with practiced care. He brewed coffee, packed a lunchbox shaped like a bright yellow dinosaur, and laid out Zane's clothes for the day. The routine was deliberate. Predictable. A shield against the chaos he felt tightening around the edges of his life.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
One new message.
Unknown Contact.
Details attached. Neutral location as requested. No pressure. —E
Zachery stared at the screen longer than necessary.
No pressure, the message claimed, yet everything about Ethan Voss felt like pressure incarnate. Still, the attached address caught his attention.
Greenwood Park.
Public. Open. Safe.
Zachery exhaled slowly.
Greenwood Park was quieter than the city streets surrounding it, a pocket of green carved into concrete and steel. Bare branches reached toward a pale winter sky, their silhouettes stark against the clouds. Fallen leaves crunched underfoot, damp from last night's rain.
Zachery held Zane's hand as they walked along the path.
"Why are we here, Daddy?" Zane asked, swinging their joined hands.
"Remember how I told you I help kids sometimes?" Zachery replied gently.
Zane nodded. "Like school but not school."
"Exactly," Zachery said. "Today, we're meeting someone new."
Zane tilted his head, studying him with unsettling seriousness. "Are you nervous?"
Zachery smiled despite himself. "A little."
Zane considered that. "It's okay to be nervous. Mommy used to say that."
The words struck deeper than Zachery expected.
He squeezed Zane's hand. "She was right."
They reached the park bench near the small playground just as a sleek black car pulled up along the curb. It looked out of place here, too polished, too deliberate. The door opened, and Ethan Voss stepped out.
He wasn't wearing a suit today.
Instead, he wore a dark coat over a charcoal sweater, tailored slacks, and leather gloves. His standards understated the look but were no less commanding. He scanned the park, his gaze sharpening when it found Zachery.
Then his eyes dropped to Zane.
Something shifted.
Ethan approached slowly, as though aware that any sudden movement might fracture something fragile.
"Mr. Allister," he said.
"Ethan," Zachery corrected automatically.
Ethan inclined his head. "Zachery."
Zane stepped slightly in front of Zachery, small fingers tightening around his father's coat.
Ethan stopped a few feet away.
"This must be Zane," Ethan said, his voice noticeably softer.
Zane studied him with open curiosity. "You're tall."
Zachery nearly laughed.
Ethan blinked once, then smiled. It was faint, unfamiliar, and real.
"So, I've been told," Ethan replied.
Zane nodded solemnly, satisfied.
Zachery watched the exchange with cautious interest. Ethan's posture had changed, less rigid, less imposing. It was subtle, but unmistakable.
"Zane," Zachery said quietly, "this is Ethan."
"Hi," Zane said.
"Hello," Ethan replied. "I'm glad you came today."
Zane glanced up at Zachery. "Is he your friend?"
Zachery hesitated.
Ethan answered before he could. "Not yet."
Zane seemed to like that answer.
They sat on the bench, Zachery positioned between Zane and Ethan without conscious thought. Ethan didn't comment on it. He was always observing.
"Do you like dinosaurs?" Ethan asked Zane.
"Yes," Zane said eagerly. "My favorite is the T. rex."
"A powerful choice," Ethan said. "But dangerous."
Zane frowned. "Only if you're not careful."
Ethan's gaze flicked briefly to Zachery.
"Wise," Ethan murmured.
As Zane ran off toward the playground, Zachery finally turned to Ethan.
"You didn't tell me you'd be… good with kids."
Ethan's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "I'm learning."
"For your son?"
"Yes."
Zachery studied him. "Why isn't he here today?"
Ethan's jaw flexed. "Soon. I wanted to observe first."
"Observe what?"
"You," Ethan said simply. "And him."
Zachery bristled. "This isn't an evaluation."
"No," Ethan agreed. "It's a reality check."
They fell into silence, watching Zane navigate the climbing structure with fearless determination.
"He's perceptive," Ethan said quietly.
Zachery smiled faintly. "He had to be."
Ethan turned to him. "Children notice what adults pretend doesn't exist."
The words lingered.
Across the park, a woman stood beneath a leafless tree, her phone angled discreetly.
Vanessa de Veldt watched with keen interest.
She had learned long ago that power rarely announced itself; it whispered, hid in plain sight, revealed itself through patterns. Ethan Voss was predictable in one sense: he did not deviate without reason.
And yet here he was.
In a public park.
With a schoolteacher and a child.
Vanessa's lips curved slowly.
Interesting.
She slipped her phone back into her pocket and turned away, already calculating the angles. Curiosity was not her vice; control was.
And this situation had potential.
Zachery felt it before he saw it, the prickle at the back of his neck, the sense of being watched. He scanned the park but found nothing overtly suspicious.
"You're tense," Ethan observed.
"I don't like being studied," Zachery replied.
Ethan met his gaze steadily. "Neither do I."
"Then why do it to others?"
"Because understanding is leverage."
Zachery stiffened. "I don't respond to leverage."
Ethan leaned slightly closer. "You respond to honesty."
The proximity sent a jolt through Zachery's chest, unwanted, undeniable.
"Then be honest," Zachery said quietly. "Why me?"
Ethan's eyes darkened, his voice dropping. "Because you're the first person who hasn't wanted something from me."
"That's not true," Zachery countered. "You want something from me."
"Yes," Ethan admitted. "But not what most people do."
Zachery swallowed.
Before he could respond, Zane ran back, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
"Daddy, can Ethan push me on the swing?"
Zachery froze.
Ethan waited.
Zachery searched Ethan's face, then nodded slowly. "If you're careful."
Ethan stood, removing his gloves with deliberate precision.
"I will be," he said.
As Ethan pushed Zane gently on the swing, Zachery watched heart tight, mind racing. Ethan's movements were controlled and attentive. Protective.
Dangerous.
When Zane laughed, the sound cut through Zachery like light through storm clouds.
Ethan glanced back, their eyes meeting across the space.
For a moment, something unspoken passed between them.
Possibility.
Fear.
Obsession, barely restrained.
Later, as dusk settled and the park emptied, Zachery packed up their things.
"We should go," he said.
Ethan nodded. "Of course."
Zane hugged Ethan without warning.
Zachery inhaled sharply.
Ethan stiffened then relaxed, resting a careful hand on Zane's back.
"Goodbye," Zane said. "You can come again."
Ethan looked at Zachery. "If your father allows it."
Zachery hesitated, then nodded once. "We'll see."
Ethan smiled faintly.
As the black car disappeared into traffic, Zachery felt the weight of what had begun settle fully into his chest.
He knelt beside Zane. "Did you like Ethan?"
Zane nodded. "He's sad."
Zachery blinked. "What makes you think that?"
Zane shrugged. "Sad people are quiet inside."
Zachery looked back at the street.
Yes, he thought. Very sad.
And very dangerous.