Kai's POV
"Daddy, I need to pee!"
I close my eyes and count to three. We've been off the plane for exactly four minutes, and Luna is already announcing bathroom emergencies to the entire airport.
"Can you hold it until we get our bags?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
"No! I need to go NOW!" Luna bounces on her toes, making her golden-brown hair fly everywhere.
River, my son, rolls his green eyes—my green eyes—in a way that makes him look way too mature for four years old. "Luna always has to pee at the worst times."
"I do not!"
"Do too!"
"Kids," I say firmly, squeezing both their hands. "No fighting. Luna, we'll find a bathroom. River, be nice to your sister."
Behind us, Adrian chuckles. His deep voice is warm and familiar—safe. "I'll watch the carry-ons. Take your time."
I flash him a grateful smile. Adrian Thorne has been my rock for almost five years now. He found me when I was seven months pregnant, broke, and being harassed by loan sharks I'd borrowed money from just to afford prenatal care. He scared them off, gave me a job at his security company doing paperwork, and has been protecting my little family ever since.
The twins call him Uncle Ade. Sometimes I wonder if they should call him something else. Something more. But that's complicated, and I'm too tired to think about complicated right now.
After the bathroom crisis is handled, we make our way toward baggage claim. Luna holds my hand and swings it back and forth, chattering about the clouds she saw from the plane window. River walks on my other side, quieter, more watchful. He's always been the protective one, like he knows he's the man of our little family even though he's barely three feet tall.
My heart pounds harder with every step. I'm back in Crescent Bay. The city where I was destroyed. Where my dreams died. Where I ran away in the middle of the night with nothing but two duffel bags and two tiny lives growing inside me.
I never wanted to come back here. Never.
But Dr. Santos—my mentor, the woman who gave me a chance when I showed up at Silverpine University pregnant and desperate—she called me three months ago with an offer I couldn't refuse. Lead researcher at Crescent Bay Medical Institute. My own lab. Unlimited funding. A chance to continue my work on suppressant-free treatments for omegas.
"Think of all the people you'll help," Dr. Santos had said. "Think of your children. They deserve to see their father doing important work."
She was right. I know she was right.
But that doesn't make walking through this airport any easier.
"Daddy, you're squeezing too hard," Luna complains.
I loosen my grip on her hand. "Sorry, baby."
We round the corner toward the exit, and I see the crowd of people waiting for passengers. Families reuniting. Friends holding signs. Drivers with name cards.
Normal airport stuff.
Then I see the banner.
My feet stop moving so suddenly that Luna bumps into my leg and River stumbles.
No. No, this can't be happening.
The banner is huge—professionally made, not scribbled on poster board. It says in giant letters: "WELCOME HOME, KAI. I'VE BEEN WAITING."
And holding that banner, wearing an expensive suit that probably costs more than my rent, carrying ninety-nine red roses like this is some kind of romantic movie, is Ethan Cross.
Ethan. Ethan. The man who destroyed me five years ago. The man whose babies I'm carrying—carried, past tense, because they're walking now, they're here, holding my hands and asking questions I can't answer.
My chest feels too tight. I can't breathe. The airport is spinning.
How did he know? How did he know I was coming back? How did he know which flight?
"Kai?" Adrian's hand touches my back, steadying me. His alpha presence flares—protective, concerned. "What's wrong?"
I can't answer. I can't do anything but stare at Ethan across the crowd.
Our eyes meet.
For one second—just one heartbeat—Ethan's face transforms. Pure joy. Relief so intense it looks painful. His amber eyes go bright, and he takes a step forward like he's going to run to me.
Like he has the right to run to me.
Then his gaze drops. Down to my left hand holding River's. Down to my right hand holding Luna's.
I watch the color drain from Ethan's face. Watch his expression shift from joy to confusion to absolute shock.
The roses slip from his hands. All ninety-nine of them scatter across the airport floor in an explosion of red petals.
"Daddy?" River tugs my hand, his voice worried. "Who is that man? Why is he looking at us like that?"
Luna, bless her curious heart, waves at Ethan. "Hi! Are those flowers for my daddy? My daddy loves flowers!"
No. No no no. This isn't happening. I'm not ready for this. I'll never be ready for this.
"We need to leave," Adrian says quietly, his voice tight. "Right now, Kai."
But it's too late.
Ethan is moving through the crowd, pushing past people, his eyes locked on the twins. On River's dark hair and green eyes—my eyes. On Luna's golden-brown hair and amber eyes—his eyes, oh god, she has his exact eyes.
"Kai," Ethan says. His voice cracks on my name. "Kai, wait. Please."
People are starting to notice. Starting to point. Someone pulls out their phone.
"Isn't that Ethan Cross? The billionaire?"
"Who's the omega with the kids?"
"Are you getting this? This is going to go viral!"
Not again. I can't do this again. I can't be the center of another viral video, another scandal, another nightmare.
"Adrian, get us out of here," I say desperately.
Adrian steps in front of us, blocking Ethan's path. The two alphas face each other—Adrian taller, broader, protective. Ethan smaller but more desperate, his eyes wild.
"Move," Ethan says, but there's no command in it. Just pleading.
"Not happening," Adrian replies calmly. "Kai doesn't want to talk to you."
"Kai." Ethan looks past Adrian, looks at me, and his eyes are so full of pain it almost makes me forget how much he hurt me. Almost. "Please. Just tell me. Those children..."
River presses closer to my leg. Luna's happy expression fades into confusion, sensing the tension.
"Are they mine?" Ethan's voice breaks completely. "Kai, are they mine?"
The question hangs in the air like a bomb about to explode.
Everyone is staring now. Phones are recording. This is the Spring Gala all over again—me in the spotlight, exposed, vulnerable, breaking.
"We're leaving," I say firmly, scooping Luna up with one arm and grabbing River's hand tighter. "Adrian, please."
Adrian nods and starts clearing a path toward the exit.
But Ethan's voice follows us: "I looked for you! For five years, Kai! I never stopped looking! Please, just five minutes—"
"You had five years!" The words explode out of me before I can stop them. I turn back, and I see everyone's eyes on us, but I don't care anymore. "You had five years, Ethan! You don't get to show up now with flowers and banners and act like—like—"
I can't finish. My voice breaks. Luna's little arms wrap around my neck, scared.
"Daddy, why are you upset?" she whispers. "Why is that man making you cry?"
I'm not crying. I refuse to cry. Not here. Not for him. Not again.
We make it outside to Adrian's car. He gets the twins buckled into their car seats while I stand there shaking, trying to remember how to breathe.
My phone starts buzzing. Text after text after text:
"OMG is that Kai Rivers???"
"ETHAN CROSS AT THE AIRPORT WITH MYSTERY OMEGA AND KIDS"
"Are those his children?? Someone investigate!!"
And then one that makes my blood run cold. From a number I don't recognize:
"Still causing drama, little brother? Mom and Dad saw the airport videos already. They're humiliated. Again. Some things never change. - Derek"
I turn off my phone with shaking hands and get in the car.
As Adrian drives away, I look back one time. Just once.
Ethan stands in the middle of the scattered roses, his banner forgotten on the ground, staring at our car like he's watching his whole world drive away.
Luna sniffles in her car seat. "Daddy, why was that man crying? Did we make him sad?"
River, protective as always, says, "Who cares? He made Daddy upset. That's worse."
But Luna won't let it go. "Daddy, who was he? Why did he have your name on his sign?"
I close my eyes. How do I answer that? How do I explain to my four-year-old daughter that the man with her eyes is her father—the father who doesn't even know she exists, the father who destroyed me before I could tell him about her?
"That man..." I start, then stop. What do I say? What can I say?
Adrian glances at me in the rearview mirror, and his expression is sad. Knowing.
"That man," I finally whisper, "is someone from Daddy's past. Someone who... hurt Daddy very badly a long time ago."
"Is he a bad man?" River asks suspiciously.
I think about Ethan's face at the airport. The shock. The pain. The desperate hope when he saw me, and the devastation when he saw the twins.
"I don't know, baby," I admit. "I really don't know."
But one thing is certain: Ethan Cross just saw his children for the first time. And from the look on his face, he knows—knows—they're his.
Which means my carefully rebuilt life is about to fall apart all over again.