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Oscar heads out first, tossing me a wink as he grabs his jacket from the hook by the door.

“Try not to miss me too much,” he teases, already halfway into the hallway.

“Not if you remember the chips,” I shoot back, grinning.

He disappears around the corner, the sound of his voice still echoing faintly—rich, familiar, and warm.

Zaire lingers. He always does. Always the last to leave, like even a few steps away from me costs him something. He walks to the door in slow, deliberate strides, then pauses in the frame.

“I love you,moya koroleva.”

The words land in that quiet, sacred place he always seems to reach without trying. He offers me a small smile—rare and real—before stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him.

I’m alone in the soft hum of silence, still seated in my desk chair, surrounded by half-finished reports and the lingering scent of the life we’ve built. I lean back and rest both hands on the swell of my belly. The twins shift beneath my palms, like they heard the voices fading down the hall and wanted to answer.

“Two of your fathers are already impossible,” I murmur, brushing gentle circles over the curve of my belly. “And the third?” A smile tugs at my lips. “He’s going to relish having two more girls to spoil.”

None of them know yet.

It’s a secret I’ve kept for myself. One perfect truth tucked away in the quiet corners of my heart—twin girls. Two strong, wild little hearts beating beneath mine. And not a single one of their fathers’ suspects.

A soft breath escapes me, half amusement, half awe, as I picture the chaos to come. Zaire, blindsided the first time one of them outsmarts him. Oscar, pretending to grumble while being utterly wrapped around their fingers. And Talon? He won’t even pretend. He’ll spoil them relentlessly and call it good parenting.

God help them when these girls figure out the kind of power they’re born into.

I shift, bracing one hand on the edge of the desk as I rise, the other still cradling my belly.

“Let’s go see what your other father is up to,” I murmur. “Oz and Z didn’t want to play, but Talon will.”

The pint of ice cream waits for me in the little freezer Talon had installed in my office by the cabinet. I grab a pint and a spoon from the container on top of the freezer, then head for the door, my steps slow but sure. The reports can wait. The world can wait. The lights in my office flicker gently as I step into the hall, leaving behind the chaos, the strategy, the past. Heading toward the only thing that matters now.

Because after everything we endured—every betrayal that cut too deep, every scar we thought we’d never stop carrying, every truth that shattered the ground beneath our feet—only one thing remains unshakable.

Family. Not the one we were born into, but the one we bled for. Fought for. Chose.

We didn’t just surviveall the darkest truths.

We rose from them.

And in the ashes, we built something fierce. Something real.

Something that finally feels like home.