The sun spilled lazily through the windows of the Wolfe estate, casting a golden warmth across the marble floors and catching in the gentle swing of windchimes outside the breakfast patio. The morning after the twins' second birthday was calm, shockingly calm, given how lively things had been.
Talia, still in her robe, was on the floor with Luna, who was trying to put socks on her stuffed elephant. Zane had taken over Ethan's phone and was currently talking to Siri like she owed him answers.
In the kitchen, Ethan flipped pancakes with the precision of a man who'd mastered corporate mergers, and now breakfast. "They asked for chocolate chips. You sure it's okay?"
Talia chuckled. "They've earned it. Just don't let them bribe you into syrup and whipped cream before 9 a.m."
"I make no promises."
But just across the estate, in the quiet guest wing, another story was unfolding.
...
