The next morning, the Novacore office buzzed with energy.
Sara was in the conference room with her new hand-picked team of experts, the one Kairo had reluctantly approved after she insisted on tackling Belvana's negative campaign.
Meanwhile, Kairo sat in his cabin, half-buried under fabric samples and design drafts for the next launch, sleeves rolled up, coffee gone cold beside him.
And that's exactly when the door swung open without a single knock.
Charles walked in, sharp as ever, silver hair, black coat, and that calm authority that made even the air go still.
Behind him followed Ben, looking mildly terrified.
Kairo looked at him sharply. "Ever heard of knocking?"
"I don't need anyone's permission to enter my own office," Charles said, completely unbothered, his tone calm but edged with authority.
Kairo's expression tightened, but he sighed and stood out of respect, not comfort. Behind Charles stood Secretary Ben, looking slightly nervous.
"What brings you here?" Kairo asked, his tone cool and controlled.
"You know very well what brings me here," Charles replied, walking closer.
Kairo's jaw flexed. "We're already working on Belvana. You don't have to worry about that."
But Charles simply pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing one leg over the other, his demeanor oddly relaxed.
"Where's my grandson?" he asked casually.
Kairo froze, staring at him in disbelief. So this visit wasn't about business at all; it was about Zayn.
"Are you serious right now?" Kairo growled, his patience thinning.
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he countered evenly.
Ben, who'd been trying to disappear into the background, pressed his lips together, clearly fighting back a laugh, but failing.
Kairo shot him a deadly look. And Ben immediately straightened, clearing his throat and pretending to check his notes.
"Ben?" Charles called out calmly. "Inform Sara and bring Zayn to me," he said, his tone casual yet carrying the weight of command.
Ben froze for a moment, glancing uncertainly at Kairo, who was already glaring daggers at him. "Sir… Director—" he started hesitantly.
Charles didn't even let him finish. "As the founder of Novacore, I'm giving you an order. So tell me, Ben, who holds more power here? Your director, or the founder?" His eyes met Kairo's squarely, unfazed by the silent challenge in his son's stare.
Ben swallowed hard. "Y–Yes, sir. I'll bring him… just two minutes." And with that, he practically ran out of the cabin.
Now it was just the two of them, the old lion and the younger one. They stared each other down. Kairo's jaw was tight; Charles' expression was calm, even amused.
The air thickened as silence fell between father and son. Kairo's glare didn't waver, cold, sharp, defiant, but Charles didn't flinch.
Those same green eyes, once he hated, a reminder of all the pain and pride, now made Charles's heart soften. He could see the little boy he once lost in those eyes, stubborn, brilliant, and still his.
A chuckle escaped Charles. "Stop staring like that," he said lightly. "You can't intimidate me. Go on, get back to your work."
That calm tone pissed Kairo more, but to Charles, it was endearing, that fire, that temper. He couldn't help but smile softly to himself, his heart unexpectedly warm as he looked at the man his son had become.
The door opened quietly, Ben slipping in first, followed by Sara, holding Zayn in her arms. Charles turned at the sound, and his face instantly melted into a smile.
"How are you, darling?" he asked, his voice warm, a rare softness threading through it.
"I'm good, Dad," Sara replied with a gentle smile.
"I missed Zayn… so I came to see him," Charles said, his tone almost wistful.
Sara's expression softened. "Here's your Zayn," she said, carefully handing the baby Zayn into his waiting arms.
The moment Zayn landed against his chest, Charles's entire face lit up. The old man's sharp eyes softened completely as he looked down at the tiny boy who stared back at him, as if trying to remember that familiar face.
"How are you, my boy?" Charles whispered, his voice slipping into that tender, almost playful tone reserved only for babies. Zayn responded with a delighted giggle, his small hands reaching out to clutch Charles's collar.
Charles chuckled, the sound deep and full of affection. It was as if every line of worry on his face had vanished in that instant.
Sara watched them, her heart warming at the sight, the once-cold man now glowing with the purest joy. But when her eyes drifted to Kairo, standing a few feet away, she saw a completely different storm.
He stood stiff, jaw clenched, eyes dark, jealousy, protectiveness, flickering across his face.
She gave him the look, the one that silently said, not to act like a brat.
He responded with a glare that clearly said he didn't care.
She blinked again, this time with a subtle smile, a silent reassurance.
Kairo exhaled heavily, his shoulders loosening just a little. He looked away, muttering something under his breath.
"I'll go back to work, Dad," he muttered. "You can have him."
Charles nodded, his attention still on the baby in his arms. Then, glancing up briefly, he asked, "Can I take him outside for a while?"
His voice was calm, but beneath it, there was something almost pleading, the quiet wish of a man trying to make up for lost time.
Before Sara could answer, Kairo's voice cut through the air. "NO!"
Both Charles and Sara turned toward him in surprise. Kairo's tone wasn't loud, but it carried that unmistakable authority that left no room for argument.
"I don't approve of it," he said quickly, his voice steady yet edged with protectiveness. "It's dangerous, and I don't trust anyone with him."
"Kairo…" Sara began softly, trying to calm him.
But he shook his head, "No, baby. I don't let anyone take my son out. No one," he said, every word firm and deliberate.
Charles leaned back slightly, watching him, the tension in the room crackling. Then Kairo added, his eyes back on Charles. His tone quieter but even more resolute, "I'm saying this as Zayn's father. And nobody, not even you, has the right to take my child without my permission."
Their eyes locked
Charles raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, before turning his gaze back to Zayn.
"Hey, baby boy," he said gently, his voice softening as he looked at the little one in his arms. "Would you like to go out with Grandpa? We can have a lot of fun outside."
Zayn blinked, processing the words, then looked up at Sara, those big, curious eyes silently asking what to do.
Sara met his gaze, then slowly nodded, then glanced at Kairo, who stood there, jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides, silently praying the little boy would refuse.
But instead, Zayn turned his head back toward Charles and gave a tiny, innocent nod.
Charles's smile spread wide, genuine and full of joy.
Kairo closed his eyes, a sigh of frustration slipping through his teeth as he ran a hand down his face. Sara, meanwhile, fought back a smile, her heart quietly amused by the scene.
"Baby… Zayn… my son… please don't go," Kairo said desperately, his voice breaking the air, raw and pleading. "Dada will get you ice cream later, no, not just ice cream, whatever you want, please don't go."
Zayn looked at him, eyes big and uncertain, his little lips forming a pout before he lowered his gaze, confused by the tension.
Sara immediately walked up to Kairo, hugging him by the waist, placing a gentle hand on his chest, calming him from overreacting. "Don't be over-possessive, baby… let him go. Please," she whispered, her tone soft but earnest.
He looked at her, eyes flashing with hurt, a look that said How can you ask me that?
"Please…" she whispered again, cupping his face with both hands. "You remember your promise that night? You said you'd give him a chance, for me."
Her voice was calm, her touch warm, grounding him. His eyes softened, though resistance still flickered there. His heart didn't want to agree, but for her sake, for that quiet trust she carried in her eyes, he exhaled, slowly, heavily.
Sara caressed his cheeks with her thumbs, soothing him like she always did when his emotions ran wild. He finally sighed, glancing at Charles and Zayn before looking back at her.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice low, reluctant.
Sara's lips curved in relief; she leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on his cheek. "I love you," she whispered, her words brushing softly against his skin.
He looked at her with eyes full of sadness and reluctant surrender, the kind of look that said he'd do anything for her, even the things that his heart didn't want to.
Turning to Charles, Sara managed a small, composed smile. "Take care of my baby, Dad," she said quietly.
Charles's expression softened, genuine warmth flickering across his face. "Thank you, darling," he said, standing up carefully with Zayn in his arms. "We'll be back before sunset."
Sara nodded. "Zayn, baby, don't trouble Grandpa, okay?" she said gently.
"Okay, Mumma," Zayn replied in his soft little voice, resting his head on Charles's shoulder.
Charles smiled, pride and tenderness blending in his eyes. "Come on, champ," he said warmly, his tone bright and full of affection. "Let's go have some fun."
Kairo's glare followed Charles to the door. "Don't feed him too much junk food," he warned, voice full of dramatic offense. "If anything happens to my baby, I'll sue you."
His tone was so dead serious.
Sara quickly reached for Kairo's arm, rubbing gently, shushing him softly. "Calm down, Baby…" she whispered, trying to calm him down.
Charles paused at the doorway, turning just enough to throw a teasing smirk over his shoulder. "Then keep your lawyer ready," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with dry humor.
Sara's lips twitched; she pressed them together, trying hard not to laugh, but the effort failed miserably.
She quickly wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest to hide her smile. Her shoulders trembled as she tried to hold it in, muffling her giggles against his shirt.
Kairo just stood there, stiff, annoyed, and utterly betrayed by his wife, his son, and even his secretary.
He sighed dramatically, resting his chin on top of Sara's head, muttering under his breath.