The day had started soft.
Zane was busy dragging one of Ethan's leather loafers across the living room while Luna sat in Talia's lap, chewing happily on the corner of a plush giraffe. The sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ethan's penthouse, turning the whole place gold.
Talia, in a loose cotton tee and messy bun, sipped her tea while sketching quietly beside the twins' play area.
Ethan watched from the hallway, his heart quietly full.
The peace didn't last.
There was a sharp knock at the door, aggressive, impatient.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. He didn't need a crystal ball to know who it was.
Talia looked up. "You expecting someone?"
"No," he said, already heading toward the door with a tense jaw.
When he opened it, Vanessa stood on the threshold like a headline waiting to happen. Red lips. Hair curled to perfection. Anger and elegance in equal measure.
