Chapter 35 – Tests, Threats, and Tender Moments

The morning light was soft, painting gold across the polished floors of the Stones estate. May stood in the kitchen, pouring coffee into two mugs, her eyes flicking occasionally to Aria and Aiden as they laughed over their breakfast. The innocence in their chatter was almost hypnotic—an anchor amid the storms she felt approaching.

Damien leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze never leaving her. “You look too calm,” he said.

“Calm keeps me sharp,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his hand. “And I’m not facing storms alone.”

He smiled, but his brow furrowed slightly. “Be careful. You know how Daxton operates.”

May’s lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. “I do.”

Just then, her phone buzzed with a discreet message. Her heart skipped a beat. Evelyn.

“I’ve been watching. Your perfect little family… too perfect. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

May’s fingers hovered over the screen for a heartbeat. Evelyn’s words were laced with threat and precision. She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Evelyn was clever, yes, but predictable to someone who had spent years operating in shadows.

Damien noticed her expression change. “Evelyn?” he asked softly.

“She’s back,” May said, calm but firm. “Trying to create chaos. But she doesn’t know what she’s dealing with.”

He stepped closer, brushing his fingers across hers. “And she won’t. Not while I’m here.”

May smiled faintly. “She’s dangerous… but not invincible.”

By late morning, the first real test arrived—not from Evelyn directly, but from Daxton.

He had arranged a private meeting, a “discussion” about the children’s schooling and extracurricular activities. But May knew the subtext: he wanted to see how far she could protect her family while under pressure.

Entering his office, May exuded calm confidence. Daxton’s gaze was sharp, assessing her from head to toe, measuring every micro-expression.

“May,” he said, voice low and deliberate, “I trust you care for the children. But admiration does not guarantee competence under pressure.”

“I understand,” she replied evenly. “And I never rely solely on admiration.”

He leaned back, steepling his fingers. “Then let us test this. You will organize a week of their activities, including a digital project, a sports event, and a creative showcase. All under my scrutiny. Failure is… not an option.”

May’s lips curved in a faint, polite smile. “I will ensure everything proceeds smoothly.”

He fixed her with a sharp gaze, then added, almost as an afterthought: “Remember, the children’s well-being is my priority. Yours is… secondary.”

May nodded once. “Understood.”

Back home, she turned her attention immediately to Aria and Aiden’s schoolwork. Evelyn had already tried to create minor disruptions in their digital programs, testing May’s patience and alertness.

May leaned over her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. Her S-Coded identity, masked from everyone, came to life. Firewalls were reinforced. Permissions restored. Subtle coding adjustments ensured the children’s school programs functioned without a trace of interference.

Aria, watching her mother, tilted her head. “Mum… how do you fix things so fast?”

May smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her daughter’s face. “Just a little magic, sweetheart.”

Aiden’s eyes widened. “Like S-Coded?”

May froze for half a heartbeat but recovered, smiling mysteriously. “Something like that.”

The children exchanged a secretive glance. Their mother was extraordinary in ways they didn’t yet fully understand—but trusted completely.

That evening, May and Damien took the children for a walk in the estate gardens. The air was warm and fragrant with late-spring blooms. The children ran ahead, laughter echoing, their joy contagious.

Damien slipped his hand into hers, fingers intertwining naturally. “You’re amazing,” he whispered. “The way you handle everything… and still make it feel like home.”

May leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Because we’re a family. And this—us—matters more than any challenge.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “I don’t say it enough… but I love you. And I trust you.”

Her lips curved in a small, tender smile. “I love you too.”

They stopped for a quiet moment, watching Aria and Aiden play together. Their small hands clasped, their laughter innocent and pure. Damien brushed a strand of hair from May’s face.

“You’re the heart of all of this,” he murmured.

“And you’re my anchor,” she replied softly.

The next morning, Evelyn made her first overt move. A social media post appeared online—an anonymous account with images of May and the children, carefully cropped and altered to hint at mismanagement or negligence. It was subtle enough to avoid legal scrutiny but clear enough to rattle those who didn’t know the truth.

Damien noticed immediately. “She’s trying to provoke you,” he said, voice low but firm.

May nodded. “I know. And she’s going to fail. Because truth is on our side.”

She sat at her laptop, fingers moving with precision, countering Evelyn’s manipulations, quietly tracing the source and neutralizing the fake account. In moments, the post vanished, leaving no trace—except a faint, private message to Evelyn, invisible to the public: “I see you.”

That evening, the family gathered for a quiet dinner. The children were unusually talkative, recounting their school day and minor adventures. Aria kept glancing at May, a sense of awe and curiosity in her gaze.

“Mum,” she asked innocently, “how do you make things happen… like magic?”

May smiled softly, brushing her daughter’s hair back. “Sometimes, you just have to see the solution before it’s there. And sometimes… you have to create it quietly.”

Aiden looked at her wide-eyed. “Like a superhero?”

“Something like that,” May said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Damien, watching her, felt an overwhelming surge of pride and love. “She’s incredible,” he whispered to himself.

May turned, catching his gaze. “And you, you make it all worth it,” she said, resting her forehead against his.

Later, as the children slept, May and Damien shared a quiet moment in the living room. The soft glow of the lamp cast shadows across the walls. Damien pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“You carry so much, May,” he said softly. “And yet… you make it look effortless.”

“I don’t do it alone,” she murmured. “I have you. And I have them.”

He pressed his lips to hers, slow and deliberate. The kind of kiss that spoke of trust, love, and shared battles yet to come. “We’ll face anything… together,” he whispered.

“Together,” she repeated.

Meanwhile, Evelyn observed from afar, her fingers tracing lines across a tablet. “They think they can hide from me,” she muttered. “But the perfect family illusion is fragile. And I will find a way to crack it.”

By the next morning, Daxton made his presence known in a subtler, more insidious way. Invitations for evaluations of the children’s activities were sent directly to May, phrased as “gentle suggestions” but clearly tests of her patience, her influence, and her authority.

May smiled faintly at the first envelope. She didn’t need to open it to know the stakes. Evelyn’s manipulations and Daxton’s tests were converging, designed to push her to a limit.

But she was ready.

She had S-Coded skills, strategic intelligence, and the unwavering support of Damien and the children. She was prepared to turn every test into an opportunity—without anyone realizing the depth of her power.

And as she watched Aria and Aiden playing in the garden, laughter echoing through the air, she realized something profound: whatever storms came, this small, imperfect, beautiful family was her anchor.

Damien’s hand found hers, their fingers entwining naturally. “We’re stronger than they know,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “And we always will be.”