The office was already awake when they arrived.
It always was.
Even at this hour, the building carried that controlled kind of tension—quiet footsteps in hallways, low voices behind doors, the distant sound of phones ringing and shutting off just a second too late.
But today, something disrupted that rhythm.
Small footsteps.
And a child's voice.
"Da-da."
Izana didn't slow down as he walked through the entrance.
Zarek, held securely in his arms, looked around with wide, curious eyes as the cold professionalism of the building immediately focused on them.
The effect was instant.
People noticed.
And then stopped.
Mid-step.
Mid-sentence.
Mid-thought.
Whispers started almost immediately.
"That's—."
"…Is that his child?"
"He's grown…"
"I thought he was— "
Zarek blinked at them.
Then waved.
"Hi."
The hallway froze even harder.
Dante, walking slightly behind them, exhaled quietly.
"…I hate public perception."
Izana didn't respond.
He never did in moments like this.
He simply continued forward like nothing had changed in the world at all.
Because to him—
nothing had.
By the time they reached the meeting room, the tension had already shifted into something heavier.
Expectation.
The kind that always followed Izana.
Dante opened the door first.
Inside, the long table was already set.
Documents neatly arranged.
Seating perfectly aligned.
A room built for control.
Izana walked in without hesitation.
Zarek immediately turned his head, studying everything like it was a new world.
Izana moved toward the couch positioned behind the head seat and carefully set him down.
Zarek bounced slightly once his feet touched the cushion.
"Soft."
"Yes," Izana answered simply.
Dante closed the door behind them, already sitting down at the table and scanning the documents.
Izana placed the bag beside Zarek, unzipping it calmly.
Then pulled out a small wrapped chocolate bar.
Zarek gasped immediately.
"Choc'late."
"Yes."
Zarek grabbed it with both hands like it was treasure.
Izana adjusted his coat and pointed toward the large chair at the head of the table.
"That's where I'll be."
Zarek looked up.
"…Da-da there?"
"Yes."
Zarek nodded seriously.
As if that made perfect sense.
"Otay."
Izana gave him a brief, quiet look.
"…Stay there."
"Stay."
The door opened again.
This time—
the room changed instantly.
Men entered.
High-ranking members.
Negotiators.
People who were used to fear, silence, obedience.
They stepped in—
and stopped.
Because of the child.
Zarek sat on the couch swinging his legs slightly, chocolate in hand, watching them with calm curiosity.
No fear.
Just observation.
A few of the men hesitated.
One glanced at Dante.
Another at Izana.
Waiting for confirmation that this was real.
Izana was already seated at the head of the table.
Calm.
Composed.
Unbothered.
So they sat.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The meeting began.
At first, everything was normal.
Reports.
Numbers.
Discussions.
Warnings.
Izana listened without interruption, occasionally speaking when necessary.
Dante handled most of the logistical responses.
The room stayed controlled.
Professional.
Perfectly structured.
But behind them—
Zarek shifted.
Once.
Then again.
He looked at the couch.
Then the table.
Then Izana.
"Da-da…"
Soft.
Izana didn't turn immediately.
He was listening to a report.
But his attention shifted.
Immediately.
Dante noticed.
Of course he did.
Because Dante had learned something over the past weeks:
Izana always heard him.
Even when he wasn't looking.
Zarek leaned slightly forward.
Bored.
Chocolate now half-finished.
Small feet swinging again.
"Da-da…"
This time, louder.
Izana raised a hand slightly.
The room paused mid-sentence.
Silence fell instantly.
Izana spoke calmly.
"…Continue."
But his gaze shifted briefly toward the couch.
Dante followed it.
Then exhaled under his breath.
"…Of course."
A few minutes later—
Izana stood.
The room went silent immediately.
Every man stopped speaking.
Instinct.
Izana didn't explain.
He simply walked around the table.
Zarek watched him approach instantly.
Eyes brightening.
"Da-da."
Izana crouched slightly in front of him.
"…Bored?"
Zarek nodded immediately.
"Yes."
Simple honesty.
Izana reached for a stack of papers from the table.
Then handed them to him.
The room tensed slightly.
Dante's eyes narrowed a fraction.
This was… new.
Izana held out a pen next.
Then spoke calmly.
"Give one to everyone."
Zarek blinked.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
A pause.
Izana added:
"If there are extras…"
Zarek tilted his head.
"…draw?"
Izana nodded once.
"Draw."
That was it.
Zarek lit up instantly.
"Otay, Da-da."
And just like that—
he climbed off the couch.
The room watched in silence.
A two-year-old walking slowly around a mafia meeting room carrying documents like it was the most normal assignment in the world.
Zarek stopped at the first man.
Looked up.
Then handed him a paper.
"For you."
The man hesitated.
Then accepted it carefully.
"...Thank you."
Zarek nodded proudly and moved on.
"For you."
"For you."
"For you."
Each time:
a paper delivered.
A moment of confusion.
Then reluctant acceptance.
Some men looked like they didn't know whether to be offended or terrified.
One even stared at the paper like it might explode.
Dante leaned back slightly in his chair.
"…This is degrading to everyone involved."
Izana didn't look at him.
"…He's occupied."
Dante muttered:
"That's not the issue."
But he didn't stop it.
Nobody did.
Because Izana wasn't stopping it.
Zarek reached halfway around the table before noticing something important.
One of the men hadn't taken his paper properly.
He was holding it awkwardly.
Wrong angle.
Zarek tilted his head.
Walked back.
Then corrected it by placing it properly into his hands.
"Like this."
The man froze.
"…Yes."
Zarek nodded seriously and continued.
Eventually, he returned to Izana's side.
Holding only one paper left.
He looked up.
"Da-da."
Izana glanced down.
"…Keep it."
Zarek blinked.
Then immediately smiled.
And without hesitation—
began drawing on it.
The meeting resumed.
But something had changed.
It wasn't just a business meeting anymore.
Not in the way these men were used to.
Because every so often—
Izana would glance toward the couch.
Or Zarek would look toward the table.
And each time—
Izana would respond.
Immediately.
Without fail.
At one point, Zarek held up his drawing proudly.
"Da-da!"
Izana paused the entire meeting again.
"…Yes."
Zarek showed him the paper.
A very unclear drawing.
Possibly a lion.
Possibly a circle.
Possibly both.
Izana studied it carefully.
"…Good."
Zarek beamed.
"Good!"
The room sat in silence.
No one spoke.
No one dared.
Dante pinched the bridge of his nose.
"…This is going to become a problem."
Izana finally looked at him.
"…It already isn't."
By the time the meeting continued properly, Zarek had fallen quiet again.
Curled slightly on the couch.
Pen still in hand.
Paper resting on his lap.
Sleeping mid-drawing.
Izana noticed immediately.
And for a brief moment—
the most dangerous man in the room stopped listening to anything else.
Just for half a second.
Then continued the meeting.
As if nothing had changed.
But his attention stayed exactly where it was.
Behind him.
On the couch.
Where his son slept safely.
And for the first time in that room—
that mattered more than anything being discussed.