Father’s Fire

The cold London morning wrapped itself in soft fog as the sun shyly peered through the skyline. Inside the Oliveira household, however, warmth radiated in abundance — not just from the central heating, but from the indescribable joy that came with new life.

Tobi Oliveira sat silently by the window, a swaddle cradled in each arm. His son — were still sleeping, their tiny chests rising and falling with calm precision. Emilia, resting in the bedroom after an exhausting yet triumphant delivery, had finally gotten a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. In the bassinet beside him lay their daughters —— sleeping soundly.

Tobi stared at them, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He'd dreamed of many things: winning the Champions League, breaking records, becoming the world's best — but this… this was different. This was purpose. This was home.

"I'm going to protect all of you," he whispered, brushing a kiss over Aiden's forehead. "No matter what."