LOGINSofia.The house was finally silent. Not the kind of quiet where you can hear the fridge hum or the occasional creak of the floorboards, but a deep, sacred hush that presses against your chest and lets your lungs stretch, lets your body sink into the world, lets your mind finally exhale.The kids were gone, lost in dreams, tangled in blankets and soft sighs. Jade lay sprawled across his bed, one arm flung over his face, legs sprawled at impossible angles, limbs akimbo, triumphant in sleep, as though he had conquered some tiny, secret battle. Lorelai was curled beside him, small fists tucked under her cheeks, chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths, tiny sighs escaping lips curved in blissful sleep.I lingered at their doorway, pressing soft kisses to each forehead, memorizing the rise and fall of their chests, letting the rhythm of their breathing anchor me, reminding me why we fought, why we all fought, why this night could finally belong to us.By the time I stepped into th
Sofia.We didn’t go back to the table right away.After the doctor left, the air in the room shifted—like we’d all finally exhaled a fear we didn’t realize had been coiled so tightly around our throats. Relief didn’t rush in like a wave. It came slow. Gentle. A tide lapping at the edges of something bruised but is slowly healing.Aurelio didn’t say anything at first. He just sat there, elbows on his knees, fingers woven together like a man trying to ground himself to the earth.I sank down beside him.“Your brain’s kicking ass,” I offered softly, shoulder bumping his.He huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Guess I owe it to a tiara and some mop-based prophecies.”“You owe it to yourself,” I said, “And to the part of you that held on even when the rest of you didn’t remember why.”His head turned, and there it was again—that look. Not the blank stare of a man clawing at fog. But the focused intensity of someone waking up inside his own body.“I’m scared,” he said quietly.“I k
Sofia.I didn’t know how long we stayed like that. Tangled limbs, lazy fingers tracing idle patterns on skin, heartbeats slow and synced like we’d finally hit a frequency that didn’t make my chest ache.Eventually, the post-bliss haze wore off, and I heard Arsen groan softly into my neck. “We’re gonna be late, aren’t we?”I blinked, staring at the ceiling like it had betrayed me. “Shit. Lunch.”“Yep,” he said, dragging himself up like a man about to face a firing squad. “At the estate. With your mafia husbands.”I snorted. “Don’t be dramatic.”He raised an eyebrow. “Sofia. Nikolai once threatened to stab me for taking the last breadstick.”“To be fair, it was garlic and we were drunk.”“Still stabbed adjacent,” he muttered, pulling his shirt back on while I dragged myself into a fresh pair of jeans and tried to fix my hair like it hadn’t just been thoroughly ravaged by affection and a little emotional healing.By the time we made it out to the car, I was buzzing with nerves and that f
Sofia.We didn’t move from that spot for a long time. Just stood there in the kitchen like a couple of emotionally dehydrated ghosts haunting the sticky air, where burnt cinnamon and sweetened regret clung to the walls. The smell was half overcooked pancakes, half defeat. My hoodie—his hoodie, which had officially crossed over into “mine by domestic conquest”—was warm with Arsen’s scent and a faint hint of vanilla coffee.The same vanilla coffee I’d spilled that morning in my panic to stop Lorelai from base-jumping off the bookshelf with a stuffed unicorn strapped to her back. She had declared it a “mission from the Fairy Council,” and honestly, I couldn’t argue with her commitment to the role.“I think I like it here,” I said softly. The words hung in the quiet like a snowflake you’re afraid to breathe near, delicate and holy.He didn’t smirk. Didn’t joke. He just looked at me—really looked—and then gave me the gentlest shoulder bump, like he needed to physically share the weight of
Arsen.There were three things I never thought I’d be doing at 11 a.m. on a weekday:Whisking cinnamon into pancake batter.Arguing with a three-year-old over sock color.Letting Sofia take over my kitchen like she owned the place.(Okay, the last one was kind of hot. And, let’s be honest, she lowkey did own the place. Emotionally, spiritually, logistically—she’d rearranged my spice rack last week, and I didn’t even mind.)“You didn’t turn the heat down when you added the milk,” she murmured, not looking at me, but reaching around anyway to adjust the burner. Her fingers brushed my arm, her tone going strict, which only made it more attractive. “Scorched the bottom. Again.”“I meant to do that,” I lied, absolutely shameless, barely biting down a grin.She snorted, flicking me with a spoon. “You also meant to give Alexei and Jade mullets with your ‘barbering skills.’ Let’s stop pretending we know how to do things.”Okay, ouch. But also, accurate. Jade had genuinely threatened to draw o
Sofia.His words hit like a sucker punch dressed in velvet."I’m not letting you run this time."I should’ve had something clever ready to go. A witty comeback. A sarcastic jab. Hell, even a half-hearted "we'll see." But nothing made it past my lips.Because the way he looked at me—like I was gravity, oxygen, and sunlight all rolled into one—stripped every ounce of sass from my bones. My whole body felt like it was on alert, not in fear, but in want. In hope. In a feeling I couldn't find a way to describe.So instead of running my mouth as always, I reached for him. My fingers threaded into his sleep-tousled hair, the strands still warm from our earlier chaos. There was a faint stubble burn on his cheek where I’d clearly been overenthusiastic (zero regrets, by the way), and his lips—plump, smug, and still glistening with leftover kisses—grazed mine like they had every right to be there.And the terrifying part? They did.This—this right here—was what belonging felt like."You make it
Author's POV.While Sofia was lost in her thoughts scrubbing her skin in the bath to distract herself, those endless grief injected tears flowing down her cheeks.The trio was in their study.Nadei had his head buried in his hands trying to control the urge to break something, he has always been the te
Sofia.I stirred awake, the bed dipping on each of my sides as I turned around to face the three men-- my three angry and upset men. I frowned rubbing my eyes from sleep. The disorientation swinging my vision back and forth."Love, sleep," Nikolai said upon noticing my shifting on the bed as I held m
Sofia."Books." He looked dumbfounded for a second before he discerned the serious look on my face and chuckled softly and I pushed him away angrily to get out of the shower.He hurriedly pulled me to him."I'm sorry, baby. I was just surprised, that's all, there is no need to be embarrassed and I'm gl
Sofia.Finishing up the defects and errors on the program I was sent to code. I sighed leaning back to stretch my tangled muscles deciding to head over and oversee how the trio-- my men- were doing.I was walking towards the trio's office, humming to Only love can hurt like this until a loud curse rea







