Extra Chapter *wink wonk*

TWELVE YEARS LATER,

SERA

      Christmas morning in my house is not peaceful. It's loud and messy and involves at least one of my children acting like the Grinch reincarnated.

Wrapping paper was everywhere. Ornaments were mysteriously missing from the bottom half of the tree because Lucia swears the tree "looked better that way." And my twins were arguing noisily.

"Why do you get the bigger stocking?" Giovanni demanded, pointing at his sister's haul.

"Because Santa likes me more," Lucia said sweetly, batting her lashes. "Obviously."

"You're literally evil."

"And you're literally short."

Rue, who was perched on the arm of the couch with her long legs crossed, sighed dramatically. "God. This is embarrassing. Don't you two get tired of being basic?"

I raised my coffee mug. "Basic is generous. This is more like feral."

Before Gio could lunge at Lucia, the smell hit us. Something warm and sweet. Cinnamon-sugar heaven.

Killian walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray that looked like it belonged on the cover of a Christmas cookbook. Stacks of golden eggnog French toast, drizzled with caramel sauce and topped with powdered sugar like fresh snow.

He set it down like a man laying out an arsenal. "Breakfast."

Rue instantly hopped off the couch, snatched a plate, and kissed his cheek. "Dad, I swear, you're the only reason I survive in this family."

I gasped. "Excuse me?"

Rue ignored me, taking a dramatic bite. Her eyes fluttered shut as if she'd just had a religious experience.

"Oh my God. Mom, you could never."

Killian's lips curved into a smile.

"Rue Anastasia Cross," I said, clutching my coffee.

"You traitor. Your mother carried you for nine months, but sure, give all the credit to your father's bread-soaking skills."

Rue leaned against Killian's arm, grinning. "What can I say? I'm a daddy's girl."

Lucia grabbed a forkful and groaned. "Dad, this is insane. Can you make this every day?"

Gio elbowed her. "No, because then you'll get fat and I'll finally beat you in sprints."

Rue rolled her eyes. "He cooks, she eats, you whine. Honestly, Dad and I are the only normal people in this house."

"Rue," I deadpanned, "you once tried to pierce your own ear with a safety pin and lemon juice. Sit down."

Killian coughed into his fist, hiding a chuckle. Of course he wouldn't call her out. Daddy's girl could set the house on fire, and he'd hand her the matches.

After everyone stuffed themselves with food (yes, even me, because damn it, the man could cook), chaos resumed.

Gio and Lucia started building wrapping paper forts in the living room and shrieking war cries. Rue sat cross-legged at Killian's side, scrolling through her phone and occasionally leaning on his arm like she was his miniature bodyguard while he typed on his laptop.

I looked at them all—my sarcastic, stubborn, loud little family—and I couldn't stop smiling.

"Alright, Cross family picture," I said, grabbing the camera.

Instant groans fill the air.

"Mom—" Gio started.

"Nope."

"Ugh, seriously—" Lucia flopped dramatically on the carpet.

"Rue, tell her this is torture!" Gio begged.

Rue didn't even look up from her phone. "Shut up and stand still. Dad wants the picture."

The way both twins instantly obeyed her (and by extension Killian) nearly killed me.

When the flash went off, we got one perfect shot: Gio glaring at Lucia, Lucia grinning like a maniac, Rue with her signature sarcastic smirk tucked under Killian's arm, and me with coffee in my hand, wondering when exactly I lost control of this circus.

And honestly? I wouldn't change a single thing.

…

The twins had disappeared upstairs with their loot, Rue was holed up in her room with music blasting, and for the first time since sunrise, the house was quiet.

Killian stood at the sink with his sleeves rolled up, his forearms flexing as he rinsed off plates.

I leaned against the counter, sipping the last of my coffee. "You know, you're terrifyingly good at this. The world's most dangerous man... reduced to dish duty."

His mouth curved faintly. "I like things clean."

"Oh, I know," I teased, sliding closer, "but watching you scrub eggnog out of a pan is... oddly sexy."

He lifted one dark brow at me. "Sexy?"

I hummed, reaching past him for the towel, deliberately brushing against him. "Mmm. Very."

His hand shot out, catching my wrist, the heat of his palm searing into my skin. "Careful, Angel," he murmured, his voice low. "You don't get to tease me unless you're ready for the consequences."

I grinned. "Oh, I'm counting on the consequences."

The next second, my back was against the counter and his mouth was on mine, every ounce of pent-up hunger from the past hour crashing down on us. The kiss was messy and desperate, the kind that left my knees trembling.

His wet hands bracketed my hips, water dripping onto my shirt, but I couldn't care less.

He hoisted me onto the counter as if I weighed nothing, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

"Killian—" I gasped against his lips, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"You drive me insane," he growled, biting at my lower lip before deepening the kiss again.

It was heated and addictive. Every brush of his lips reminded me exactly why I'd fallen for this infuriating, impossible man.

The world outside didn't exist; there was only his weight between my thighs, his tongue claiming mine with no apology.

I moaned against his lips, my fingers sliding into the strands at the back of his head.

"AHEM."

We froze.

Rue stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. She’d looked painfully unimpressed. "Really? It's Christmas morning. Some of us are trying to recover from your cooking-induced food coma, and you two are... doing this. On the counter.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. Killian, of course, didn't move, still holding me there.

“Really, pumpkin? Go and get busy or something,” Killian said.

Rue smiled. "You're worse than the twins." Then she looked at me. "And Mom, ew. You're too old for PDA."

I laughed, breathless. "Rue, I had you at twenty-two. Do the math."

"Exactly. Old." She groaned, grabbing a cookie from the tin. "Next time, get a room. Actually, don't. Because you'll probably traumatize me anyway."

She walked out muttering about therapy bills.

I buried my face in Killian's chest, laughing so hard I shook. My husband smirked.

"I can’t believe she just scolded me,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

“You’ve spoiled her rotten,” I snorted, and he leaned in to kiss me again.

“My house, my rules,” he drawled, and I grinned, kissing him back.

….

And With This, We Draw The Curtain!!!

Now, sit tight, my loves.

Rue’s story is coming right up.

I’m sure you’d love it.

Here’s the blurb:

“Twenty-five years old Rue Cross is carrying the weight of being the mafia princess of the Cross empire. To prove herself, she takes a powerful position inside Bellator Crux Group, the family’s multinational front. But she has a secret: someone’s been watching her.

What her stalker doesn’t know? She’s been watching him right back.

Because Rue Cross doesn’t run from danger, she seduces it.

Her stalker is Adrian Romano, heir to the Romano cartel, notorious for ruthlessness and ice-cold efficiency.

He doesn’t just want Rue. He’s obsessed. She’s supposed to be his enemy, the daughter of the man who once destroyed his uncle’s faction. But obsession trumps bloodlines.

What starts as surveillance and shadow games spirals into a dangerous, obsessive love affair where neither of them can tell who’s stalking who anymore.”