ログインIssa looked at Max, then at Zach, like Max had just solved a puzzle much bigger than the dragon puzzle in front of him.Zach looked directly at Max. He didn’t lean in too close. He didn’t make his voice too heavy. He didn’t turn the room into a church.“Yes,” he said. “I’m your daddy.”Max blinked.Issa blinked.I didn’t even breathe.Then Max looked Zach over from his hair to his clothes, lowered his gaze to the watch on Zach’s wrist, then to Issa’s bed, then the canopy, then back to Zach’s face.“So,” he said carefully, “you have to buy the stadium.”A strangled breath escaped me.Issa immediately added, “And the castle tower.”Zach looked at both of them. “I just told you I’m your father.”Issa nodded. “I heard.”Max nodded too. “Me too.”“And your response is real estate development?”Max shrugged. “Daddy job.”“Daddy obligation,” Issa corrected.I covered my face with my hands.Zach looked at me. “This is your fault.”“Why is this my fault? They have your face and your capitalist
The kids ate more dinner than seemed reasonable for two tiny humans who, three hours earlier, had been trying to attack each other.Dinner was in the family wing dining room, not the estate’s main dining room, which was far too large and far too serious for four-year-olds. Bianna sat at the end of the table texting someone, occasionally looking up only to say, “Max, don’t use carrots as construction tools,” or, “Issa, if you call asparagus emotionally unavailable one more time, I’m recording it for future evidence.”Zach sat between the twins because apparently the man had surrendered to fate. Max finished his chicken, half his mashed potatoes, two pieces of bread, and tried to claim extra dessert because, according to him, “the worm incident drained my minerals.”Issa ate with the expression of wounded dignity, still wearing a little lavender robe over her new satin pajamas, and every time Max talked too loudly, she looked at him like she was considering replacing her twin with a cat
“Correction,” I said. “Your son has demands.”“I heard him.”“I want bubbles.”“Fine.”“A lot.”“Fine.”“And my robot comes in.”“No.”Max looked at Zach like he’d just been betrayed. “Why?”“Electronics and water.”“I know science.”“Good. Use it.”Max looked at me. “He’s strict.”“You’re just realizing that?”Issa wrapped both arms around my neck. “I want the pink bath.”We split off into the twins’ separate rooms.In Issa’s bathroom, I set her down on the little stool beside the bathtub. The second I took off her coat, the mud hiding underneath revealed even greater ambition. The bottom of her little dress was wet. Her stockings were streaked brown. There was even a small leaf stuck to the back of her cardigan.I picked it off.Issa looked at it suspiciously. “Is that from Max?”“Not every crime comes from your brother.”“Most.”“Fair.”I pulled off her boots one at a time. The socks inside were damp, and her little toes were already slightly wrinkled. “Look,” I said. “Your feet tu
Issa lunged, and her hand went straight for Max’s black hair.I caught her around the waist and lifted her little body off the floor before her fingers could get there. Her weight dropped into my arms, warm, wet, and full of royal fury.“No,” I said.“PUT ME DOWN!”“No.”“I just want to talk!”“You talk with your nails.”“He put a WORM on my body!”“In your coat.”“That’s my fashion body!”Max backed away, then stuck out his tongue. “Nyeh.”I looked at him.He pulled his tongue back in, but too late. His blue eyes immediately shifted toward Zach, calculating the escape distance.“Don’t,” Zach said calmly.Max turned and ran. His little boots pounded against the hallway carpet, leaving behind muddy tracks that were extremely artistic and extremely expensive.“I’m faster!” he yelled.He made it three steps before Zach moved.One hand caught the back of Max’s coat, stopping him mid-run. His little legs kept moving twice in the air before Zach lifted him completely off the floor and tucke
“And a dinosaur nugget vending machine.”“An important priority.”“Very.”“And they’ve been tested this whole time.”“Yes.”“To see if they’re strong, smart, and chaotic enough.”“Don’t use chaotic. They’ll be proud.”“They are.”“I know. It’s genetic.”Zach nodded slowly, still looking at me. “I can do it.”“Good.”“I’ll do it your way.”I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t turn that into a romantic sentence.”“Why?”“Because I’m allergic.”“You’re not allergic.” His voice dropped. “You just like pretending.”I opened my mouth to answer, probably with something cruel, beautiful, and worthy of being printed on a mug. Unfortunately, Zach was already too close.His hand lifted, not touching me directly, only picking up a tiny sock tucked near my elbow. He placed it on the correct pile.“Wrong place,” he said.I looked at the sock. Then at him. “You came into my closet to correct my laundry?”“I came to thank you.”“You did.”“To ask permission.”“You did.”“To hear your brilliant plan.”“You did.
I stopped.The entire closet seemed to shrink by one size.Outside, the children’s voices were still alive, wet, sweet, unaware of everything.I turned slowly.Zach was standing very close. His face was calm, but his eyes weren’t. They held the same look they had when he watched Max draw an atom, when he carried Issa after her tantrum, when he heard them say their father was out making lots of money.“I want to introduce myself as their father,” he said.I stared at him long enough for my own face to start feeling unfamiliar. “Now?”“Not this exact second.” He glanced toward the window. “They’re arranging Marco’s death.”“Priorities.”“But soon.” His gaze returned to my face. “With your permission.”I let out a quiet, very short laugh. “Look at you. Learning the word permission. America really changes a man.”“Don’t get too excited. I’m still difficult to control.”“Understatement of the century.”He waited.Damn it.He was actually waiting.I touched the edge of Issa’s dress, smoothi
And then... the blue eyes I’d once punched found mine across the crowd.Oh, good.Just fantastic.If the universe had a sense of humor, it was definitely drunk.I didn’t know who moved first. Maybe not him. Maybe not me. Maybe the room just suddenly felt too tight, too bright, too full of people wh
Five days in the Gómez house felt like being tossed into an industrial washing machine: spinning, loud, warm, and there was always someone shoving food at you even after you’d just said you were full.On day one, Mamá had already rearranged my entire schedule like I was back in eleventh grade and n
The second-floor workspace looks like a bored Pinterest board: neat white desk, bookshelves, two monitors. I’m in a fitted black blazer on top… alpaca-print pajama pants on the bottom.Out in the hallway, just beyond the half-closed door, the sound of running shakes the corridor.“SUPER MAX WILL SA
Five years later.Oregon rain tapped softly against the kitchen’s glass wall. Steady, cold, and mildly annoying.The pan on the stove hissed quietly, the smell of almost-done corn arepas mixing with black coffee and the chorizo I was frying in the skillet next to it. A slow Latin playlist floated f







