–Livana–
From the second floor, I watched as the chopper descended like a silver-winged on, slicing through the afternoon sky. Wind scattered leaves across the courtyard as its blades slowed, and with it arrived the past—my grandparents from my mother’s side, carried back into my present.
Inside that vessel were also my father-in-law and my grandparents-in-law. Below, my husband, Kai, and Caine stepped forward to greet them, steadying fragile arms and guiding careful steps. My mother stood beside , her posture serene, and on my other side was my sister, vibrating with barely contained excitent.
"I was also curious," Laura murmured, attempting humor. "Aren’t we going to surprise Dad?"
"Are you trying to kill your father early?" Mom teased, and I laughed softly, shaking my head.
"Hm. I think it’s ti to et your parents, Mom," I said.
She t my gaze with those familiar blue eyes, rolled them, and gave a careless shrug.
"Are you nervous, Mom?" Laura pressed as we headed downstairs.
Our laughter followed us along the staircase, light and conspiratorial, echoing softly against marble and glass—like two girls sneaking away with a secret, even though the secret was nothing less than our own blood waiting below.
In the living room, the elders were instantly smothered with kisses by the little trio, their laughter like bells chiming through the vast space.
My grandmother, Olivia, was the first to notice us.
She froze.
Her gaze locked onto us as though the world had stopped spinning. "Liva..." she breathed. "Nes..."
Grandpa Reagan stood almost at once. "Ines! Livana!" he shouted.
We walked closer. My grandmother rose quickly, moving faster than her age allowed, sobbing as she ca. I knew what they felt—but not how deeply. My mother only smiled at them, as though she had rely returned from a long vacation.
They crushed her in their arms, and their other hands reached for , clutching tightly, as if afraid I would dissolve from their sight.
"Mother," Ines whispered. "Father, calm down."
Her voice remained composed, always a queen—even in reunion.
I caught my grandmother from behind before emotion could pull her under. Damon swiftly carried her to the sofa while Mom gently guided Grandpa to sit.
"Why cry?" Zayvier asked innocently.
Laura lifted him at once, whispering explanations into his ear.
Jane arrived with a bottle of water, offering it to Grandma and Grandpa. Nearby, Grandpa Wilbert and Isabella wept quietly. Reagan and Olivia refused to let go of their daughter. I sat beside Olivia, and she cupped my face, showering my cheeks with kisses—the sa tenderness she gave my mother.
Words were unnecessary. They could wait.
Next, I embraced my husband’s grandparents, then my father-in-law—who was once my mother’s childhood friend.
Tears and laughter mingled in the vast living room. The mansion breathed. It felt whole.
"That’s quite a ss you left when you and your mom disappeared," Damon whispered against my ear, pressing a kiss there.
"Hm." I nodded, tapping him lightly. "A reunion for both our families." I lowered my voice. "I never imagined seeing this."
He wrapped his arms around from behind and pressed his lips to my neck.
"Is it cruel of ," I murmured, "that I never... imagined my father in this picture?"
"It isn’t," he replied softly. "Not after what he did to your mother. To your family."
I nodded, choosing to believe that.
Across the room, Laura bead as little Zendaya served the elders tea from her miniature porcelain set—Jane’s gift.
"Dada!" Sky squealed, racing toward us with his cute aggression face—bared teeth, trembling with joy. "Up! Up!"
Damon sighed. "I’m holding your mom," he reasoned.
I nudged him.
Sky climbed over my lap, dislodging Damon’s arms from , then buried himself against my chest, hugging with all his tiny might, shaking in excitent.
"Up! Up!" he insisted, finally turning to his father.
Damon lifted him, tossed him into the air, and caught him. Sky shrieked with delight. Again. And again.
"Don’t drop him," I warned as he went past five.
At last, Damon set him beside . I rested a hand on his chest.
"I’m getting old," he grumbled, catching his breath.
"Did you skip cardio?" I teased.
He laughed and brushed his lips along my earlobe. "I won’t skip it tonight—with you."
"Up! Up!" Zendaya raised her arms.
"It’s good to see Damon happy," Mom Amiliee said, placing fruit before us. Sky imdiately slid off the sofa for it.
"He’s happier when we’re alone," I told her.
She burst into laughter.
"Wow, my wife jokes now?" Damon teased, setting Zendaya down. "Alright. I’m tired."
But Zayvier raised his arms too.
With a resigned groan, Damon finally surrendered—lifting him once, twice into the air, laughter breaking from Sky like bells—until my husband collapsed beside , breathless, his strength spent in devotion. I reached for a towel and gently wiped the sheen of sweat from his face, the way one tends to a warrior after battle.
"Oh, no more?" Zayvier pouted, pointing at the bowl of fruits that had once been abundant, now reduced to a few glistening remnants—silent proof of Sky’s small but rciless appetite.
"Sky," I called gently.
The fruit bowl—once full—was empty. Sky’s sticky hands and juice-stained shirt told the story.
Everyone turned.
I placed a hand on his round tummy and sighed. "Seriously, baby? You finished all that?"
"I think we forgot to feed him earlier," Damon admitted. "Or give him milk. Sorry—we were playing."
"My poor Sky," Amiliee cooed, wiping his face. "Don’t worry, Zay-Zay. I’ll get you more. One bowl just for you." She tapped Zayvier’s nose.
And in that mont—amid crumbs, laughter, and lingering tears—I knew: this was power. Not in weapons or walls, but in the fragile, luminous chaos of those we choose to protect.
–Alyssa–
So here I am—busy with this reunion, a.k.a. my pre-party. The air slls like smoke and marinated at, warm and comforting. I’m standing in front of the huge grill, turning skewers carefully, pretending I know what I’m doing. Beside , Lore is already eating, issuing commands like I’m his personal chef.
I glare at him for the last ti.
He just smiles, effortlessly stealing the tongs from my hand and flipping the at with practiced ease.
I roll my eyes.
"Aly, baby, co here!" Dad calls.
I instantly brighten, abandon the grill, and hurry to him. I sit beside him and curl into his chest, just like when I was little. His shirt slls like aftershave and ho.
"So, we still can’t reach your brother, David," he says.
I pout. "I’ll check with Lore."
I sigh and return to the grill, gently taking the tongs back. "Please locate David. He should be here, right?"
Lore closes the lid of the grill and pulls out his phone, tapping quickly.
"He’s on his way with Kai and Sophia," he says, patting my head.
I slap his hand away. "Ew. Your hands are greasy."
He laughs.
"Seriously, Lore. You need to learn hygiene."
"I know hygiene. I even wash my hands before and after I masturbate," he says casually.
I freeze.
I recoil in horror, pointing at him. "This—this asshole!"
He bursts out laughing, waving it off like it’s nothing.
"Don’t worry. I don’t do it that much since I’m busy."
I move away from him like he’s radioactive.
Once the table is set, David, Kai, and Sophia finally arrive.
"Hello, people!" David announces with a party trumpet.
He freezes when his eyes land on Livana. The bags in his hands drop to the floor. A man built like a tank starts sobbing like a child and rushes to her. Livana stands and opens her arms, and David collapses into her embrace.
"Oh, that’s sweet," Lore mutters. "Now I’m getting emotional. Let’s go get dessert."
I follow him into the kitchen. I open the fridge, lifting the dessert trays to place them into the pool cooler.
Suddenly, Lore grips my left wrist.
I freeze.
He pulls sothing from his pocket.
Cold tal touches my skin. A stone flashes in the light—shifting colors, alive. Alexandrite. Rare. Expensive. More than diamonds. Set in platinum, frad with tiny gemstones that catch every breath of light.
"It’s platinum," he says quietly.
"Are you... giving this?" I ask, stunned.
"Oh. You don’t like it? I can—"
I pull my hand back and cover it. My lips press together. My chest tightens.
Why am I getting emotional?
"Thank you," I whisper. "I love it."
Lore grins.
"I’m sure you do." He pulls into a sudden hug and kisses my temple. "You deserve it."
I always wanted an Alexandrite. Damon always chose the rarest, most beautiful things for Livana. And this—there’s nothing like it. This is Lore.
I quickly wipe my tears.
I wish—stupidly—that he would treat like this forever. Like lovers. Like sothing more than a duty.
But it’s just wishful thinking.
"Lore," I murmur, gently pushing him so he faces .
He wipes the tear I failed to hide.
"Hmm?"
"Is it—" I bite my tongue.
No. I shouldn’t say it. I’m a girl. I shouldn’t confess first.
"What?" he asks.
My heart screams the truth. That I like him. That maybe I love him.
But my mouth refuses to betray .
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