“Hello, Sunny.”

But Sunny dodged the gesture and wrinkled his nose. With his tiny fists on his hips, he declared,

“I don’t think you’re as handsome as Mommy said. I’m way more handsome! Mommy should be proud of me instead.”

Jason stared, speechless.

After leaving Jason stunned into silence, Sunny gave a smug snort and skipped toward Miguel.

To four-year-old Sunny, Miguel looked like a towering giant—tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly intimidating.

Unlike Elliana and Jason, who had crouched down to meet Sunny eye to eye, Miguel didn’t bother. To him, Sunny was no more than an ant underfoot, hardly worth the effort.

Sunny craned his neck to look up at Miguel, while Miguel merely glanced down, cold and indifferent. On a normal day, Miguel wouldn’t have cared whether it was an adult or a child standing in his way—he would have kicked them aside without blinking.

But today, Miguel held back. It wasn’t kindness. It was caution. Sunny mattered to Elliana, and the last thing Miguel wanted was to upset her. She had just given birth to twins and was dangerously weak. One wrong move could push her body over the edge. He needed Elliana alive—nothing more, nothing less.

Sunny, unaware of Miguel’s reasoning, tilted his head, studying the man curiously. Then, with all the confidence in the world, he frowned.

“You look like a bad guy,” he declared. “A super, super bad guy!”

Miguel’s mouth twitched. Bold little brat. No doubt Donovan and Seth’s child—sharp-eyed and fearless. Even at four, he could read people frighteningly well.

Miguel didn’t deny it. If he weren’t a super bad guy, he never would have become the head of the Evernight Alliance. He was just about to chuckle at Sunny’s nerve when a sharp pain shot through his calf.

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His eyes flicked down—and froze. Sunny was jabbing his leg with something that looked very much like a needle.

Within seconds, a numb, tingling sensation spread through Miguel’s body. His brows furrowed. He had been tricked. The little devil had injected him with an anesthetic.

Very few people had ever managed to get close enough to touch Miguel, let alone catch him off guard. Yet here he was—poisoned by a preschooler. His men had dismissed Sunny as a harmless child, and by the time they noticed Miguel’s face losing color, it was already too late.

Sunny had already pulled the needle back, dashed toward Donovan and Seth, and stuck out his tongue at Miguel.

“That’s what you get for being bad! Keep it up, and I’ll stab you again!”

Miguel’s eyes darkened. Rage flared inside him.

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