The underboss sunshine

Elias Soren had always been good at pretending he was ordinary.He worked evenings at a small independent bookstore on the quieter side of the city, the kind of place that still smelled like paper, dust, and the cheap coffee the owner insisted on making every morning. He smiled at every customer, remembered the regulars’ preferred genres, and never talked about where he came from. To the people who knew him as Elias Soren, he was just a bright twenty-four-year-old who liked poetry, made terrible jokes when the shop was empty, and always offered to help carry heavy boxes even when no one asked.No one needed to know that his real last name was Blackwell.No one needed to know that the man who sat at the head of the most powerful crime family in the city was his father.Elias had spent years keeping that truth buried. He used his mother’s maiden name, lived in a modest apartment far from the family’s estates, and stayed away from anything that smelled like blood or power. He wanted noth

By mid morning the entrance hall of Raphael Blackwell’s residence no longer looked like it belonged to him.Elias had taken the delivery of flowers as a personal mission. Vases that had probably never held anything more lively than dust now stood on the side tables, the console near the stairs, and even the low cabinet in the sitting room. Pale blue hydrangeas filled one corner. Soft pink peonies occupied another. A cluster of white roses sat near the window where the light could reach them. The air, once cool and empty, now carried the faint, clean scent of petals and cut stems.Elias moved through the rooms with sleeves rolled up and a focused kind of cheerfulness, giving quiet instructions to the two maids who had been assigned to help him. He was careful not to be demanding. He asked instead of ordered. He thanked them every time they handed him a vase or moved a chair. By the time the main floor had been transformed, even the older maid’s usual reserve had softened into something

Raphael slept less than three hours.By the time the first light touched the edge of his study curtains, he was already dressed and reviewing the final confirmations from the docks. Cole’s information had held. The names had been verified. Two of the Varela contacts were already under watch. The third would be handled before the week ended. It was clean work. Efficient. The kind that left no loose ends and no room for sentiment.He closed the last file and allowed himself one short moment of stillness.The house was no longer silent in the way it used to be. Even from the study he could catch the faint trace of flowers that now lived on the main floor, and beneath that, something warmer. Sunlight. Skin. The residual presence of an Alpha who had taken up space without permission and somehow made it feel less empty.Raphael stood, adjusted his cuffs, and went downstairs.Elias was already in the kitchen.He stood at the counter with his hair still slightly messy from sleep, sleeves roll

The house had gone still by the time Raphael finished the last of the evening reports,Most of the lights on the main floor were already off. Only the lamp in the sitting room remained, casting a low gold circle across the couch and the low table. Raphael paused at the edge of the hallway when he saw that Elias was still there.Elias sat with one leg folded under him, a book open against his knee, though his eyes had stopped moving across the page. He looked up the moment Raphael’s shadow crossed the doorway and offered a tired but genuine smile.“You’re still awake,” Raphael said.“So are you.” Elias closed the book and set it aside. “I figured if I went upstairs I’d just lie there listening for the door. This seemed more honest.”Raphael stepped into the room but did not sit. The air shifted as he came closer. He felt it before he fully registered the problem,his blockers, taken on schedule that morning, were no longer holding the line as cleanly as they should. The controlled barrie