Choice Between Dreams and Shadows

Barcelona – A Week Later

The morning started with sunlight and baby giggles.

Aria stood in the kitchen, Clara on her hip, humming softly as she made coffee. Ronan walked in shirtless, sleep still lingering in his eyes, and kissed both their cheeks.

"What time's your meeting with the gallery rep?" he asked.

"Eleven," Aria said, brushing flour off Clara's nose. "And I think it's going to be big. She was cagey on the phone."

Ronan raised an eyebrow. "Good big or scary big?"

"I'm hoping Paris big."

He stilled. "Paris, as in…?"

"As in a six-week artist residency at Atelier Lumière. Full funding. Exhibition at the end. It's the dream."

"And you'd take Clara?"

Aria hesitated. "They have family accommodations. But we'd need to talk about—"

"We'd go with you," he said, without missing a beat. "No question."

Her heart surged, but something flickered in his eyes.

The past was still lurking.

Later That Day – The Offer

The gallery rep, a sleek woman named Camille, smiled like a cat who had good news.

"You're one of four artists selected this year," she said. "Your work has emotional maturity, grit, and tenderness. It deserves an international audience."

Aria's breath caught. "Thank you. Truly."

"But," Camille continued, "we'd prefer if your time there was uninterrupted. Full focus on the art. That means no outside distractions. No children on site."

Aria's heart sank.

"You want me to leave my six-week-old behind?"

Camille raised a brow. "Only temporarily. Your partner could stay here with her. It's not uncommon."

Aria swallowed. "I'll have to think about it."

Camille slid a contract across the table. "Don't think too long. There's a waitlist."

That Night – The Rooftop

Aria sat bundled under a blanket, Clara asleep in her arms, while Ronan stared into the distance.

"I'm not leaving her," she said softly.

He nodded. "I wouldn't want you to."

"But if I don't take this… it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"You've worked your whole life for this," Ronan said. "Don't let me—or Clara—be the reason you give it up."

"You're not a reason to give it up. You're the reason I have it at all."

He looked at her, eyes fierce. "Then we'll find a way."

She leaned against him, the weight of choice pressing against her chest.

Then Ronan's phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

He stepped aside, answered.

A low, raspy voice spoke: "You've got 48 hours to meet me, Ronan. Or I go to the press. I've got photos. Of her. Of the baby. Your little perfect family? I'll break it."

Ronan's blood ran cold. "You sick bastard—"

The line went dead.

The Next Day – Secrets and Safety

Ronan told Aria everything.

About the call.

About the threat.

About the photos—some clearly taken without their knowledge. One from the park. One from the gallery. One… outside their building.

"He's watching us," Ronan said. "I don't know how far he'll go."

Aria stared at him, heart pounding. "We're not safe."

"I can make us safe. I'll go to him. End this."

"No," she said, grabbing his arm. "You won't walk into that alone."

"I won't let him threaten you. Or Clara."

"We'll go to the police."

"He's smart. He'll vanish before they can touch him. This has to be me."

Aria's voice cracked. "Don't become him. Don't become the men you spent your whole life trying not to be."

He cupped her face. "I'm doing this to protect you."

Tears filled her eyes. "And I'm telling you—we do this together."