Irina’s POV
The wind off the campus quad was biting and cold, but the cafe across the street was an entirely different world.
He pushed the heavy glass door open for . A wave of incredibly warm air rushed over my face. It slled like roasted coffee beans, lted butter, and cinnamon. The cafe was small, tucked neatly away from the chaotic main pathways of the university, and it was relatively empty. Soft acoustic music played through the overhead speakers.
I stood awkwardly near the entrance, my arms wrapped tightly around Luka. My heart was still racing from the humiliation on the brick path, but the steady, calm presence of the guy beside was slowly grounding .
"Find us a booth in the back," he said, giving an easy, encouraging smile. "I’ve got this."
I nodded quickly, keeping my head down. I hurried toward a quiet, secluded booth in the far corner. I slid onto the worn leather bench, careful not to bump the baby carrier against the table.
I watched him walk up to the counter. He didn’t look like a stranger here.
"Hey, look who it is!" the barista, a girl with bright pink streaks in her hair, called out. Her face completely lit up.
"Hey, Sarah. Long ti no see," he laughed, leaning comfortably against the counter.
He ordered a coffee for himself, and then pointed back toward my booth, ordering a hot tea and a warm turkey and cheddar sandwich. He joked with the barista for another minute, laughing at sothing she said, before paying and walking back over to my table with a steaming mug and a wrapped plate.
He slid the food across the wooden table toward .
"Eat," he commanded gently, sitting down opposite .
I stared at the warm sandwich. My stomach let out another aggressive, hollow growl, completely betraying . I looked up at him, my cheeks flushing slightly.
"You didn’t have to pay for this," I said, my voice quiet. "I have money. I can pay you back."
"Don’t worry about it," he grinned, taking a sip of his dark coffee. "I actually used to work here last sester. I know all the staff behind the counter. We’re tight, so they always hook up with a massive employee discount. It barely cost anything."
I looked at his warm, golden eyes. There was no pity in them. No hidden agenda. Just a simple, casual kindness that I was completely unaccustod to.
I couldn’t help it. The tight, terrified knot in my chest finally loosened. I offered him a small, shy smile. It was fragile, but it was real.
"Thank you," I whispered, picking up the sandwich.
As I took my first bite, the baby carrier on my chest shifted.
Luka was waking up.
He let out a long, dramatic yawn, stretching his tiny fists up toward his knitted beanie. He opened his deep, forest-green eyes and blinked against the warm cafe lights.
"Ah-goo," Luka babbled.
I froze instantly, terrified that he was about to start screaming again. My hand hovered over the table, ready to grab my bag and run before we could get kicked out of a second place today.
But Luka didn’t cry. He turned his little head, his bright eyes locking directly onto the guy sitting across from us.
The guy didn’t look annoyed. His face completely softened. He leaned forward over the table, resting his chin on his hand.
"Well, hey there, little man," he said softly.
He made a funny, exaggerated face, widening his golden eyes.
Luka stared at him for a second. Then, his tiny mouth broke into a massive, gummy smile. He let out a loud, bubbling giggle, kicking his legs happily against my stomach. Luka reached a chubby hand out across the table, his tiny fingers opening and closing in the air.
The guy chuckled. He reached out and gently let Luka wrap his tiny fist around his index finger.
"He’s got a strong grip," the guy smiled, gently wiggling his finger.
I watched them in absolute awe. Luka was usually very cautious around strangers. He loved Mia, and he loved Elena, but he never ward up to new people this quickly. He was absolutely fascinated by this guy. He babbled happily, a stream of joyful, nonsensical baby noises.
"He really likes you," I said, genuinely surprised.
"I have a very trustworthy face," he joked, winking at Luka.
He gently pulled his finger back and took another sip of his coffee. His expression shifted, the playful energy settling into sothing much more serious and grounded.
"Listen," he said, his golden eyes eting mine. "So of the students on this campus are just miserable, unfriendly people. They think the world belongs to them, and they are incredibly toxic. You absolutely shouldn’t take anything they say or do to heart."
I looked down at my tea, wrapping my cold hands around the warm ceramic mug. "I know. It’s just... hard to ignore."
He sighed softly. "I get it. But honestly... you really shouldn’t bring a baby to a college lecture."
The words hit like a splash of ice water.
The fragile warmth in my chest vanished instantly. My face burned. A hot, humiliating flush of deep red crept up my neck and settled heavily in my cheeks. He wasn’t being cruel. He wasn’t sneering like the blonde girl on the quad. His tone was perfectly level and completely reasonable.
But it still stung. It stung because he was absolutely right.
"It’s just not a good environnt," he continued gently. "It’s way too inconvenient for him, and it’s too inconvenient for you. You can’t focus on learning when you’re terrified he’s going to cry."
I bit the inside of my cheek. The sha was suffocating, but the defensive, protective instincts of a mother pushed back imdiately.
"I know," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. "I know I shouldn’t. But I don’t have a choice. I live all alone. I don’t have a babysitter, and daycare is too expensive right now. When I don’t have class, I have to work shifts at a convenience store. He just... he has to co with everywhere I go."
The guy stopped.
His golden eyes widened in clear, sudden surprise. He looked down at Luka, who was happily chewing on his own fist, and then looked back up at .
"Wait," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "So... he doesn’t have a dad around?"
My heart twisted painfully in my chest. The image of Nicholas—his terrifying, unhinged rage, the blood on his hands, the suffocating walls of the Greystone palace—flashed violently through my mind.
I forced a small, sad smile onto my face. I looked down at my tea.
"Yeah," I said softly. "It’s just ."
The table went quiet for a mont. The acoustic music overhead seed to fill the heavy space between us.
"A convenience store," the guy finally said, breaking the silence. He leaned back in the booth, looking at with a deep, thoughtful frown. "That’s not a great place for a baby, either. The hours are usually terrible, the lighting is awful, and it’s not exactly safe."
"It pays the rent," I said defensively.
"I know a place that’s hiring right now," he said, leaning forward again. His golden eyes were bright with a sudden, determined idea. "It’s a massive private estate. The owner is so reclusive, insanely rich corporate CEO who is staffing up a new headquarters and residence in the city. I actually just applied there to be an executive assistant."
I blinked, confused by the sudden pivot. "An estate?"
"Yeah. They are looking to hire a lot of support staff. Maybe you could try applying to be a maid?"
The word echoed loudly in my head.
"The pay is supposed to be incredible," he continued, completely unaware of the dark mories swirling in my head. "And it’s a huge, incredibly secure place. If you worked there, when you had to go to class, you could easily entrust the baby to the other maids on staff. I t a few of them during my interview process. They are really nice, older won. They wouldn’t mind watching him at all."
I hesitated.
It sounded entirely too good to be true. Good pay. A safe environnt. Built-in childcare with people who actually liked babies. It was a massive step up from scanning chips behind a cramped, brightly lit counter while Luka slept in a corner.
But I was still scared. I was terrified of trusting anything that sounded easy.
He saw the heavy hesitation written all over my face.
He smiled. It was a warm, deeply understanding look that made my wolf hum in quiet approval.
"It’s totally okay," he said softly. "You don’t have to decide anything right now. Look... my family is really poor, too. I’m afraid I have a lot of experience navigating this kind of stuff. Surviving isn’t easy. You can co to anyti if you need help."
He reached his large hand into the inside pocket of his jacket.
He pulled out a small, crisp white card and slid it across the wooden table. It stopped right next to my cup of tea.
I looked down at the card. It was his na.
Asher Wright.
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