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“I didn’t understand why he chose the yellow car when the blue one was faster,” Alexei commented from his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“But you’re silly! He chose that color because it was his mom’s favorite! Right, Mom?” Andrei asked, his eyes sparkling. That was what I first noticed about Andrei—his emotional intelligence, the way his face showed exactly what he felt. I loved that about him, just as I loved how Alexei questioned everything, even the simplest things.

“Yes, you’re right, sweetheart. He picked it because it was his mother’s favorite color. And it was thanks to her love and encouragement that he won the race,” I said, lifting Andrei’s blanket so he could snuggle underneath before kissing his cheek. I did the same with Alexei.

I finally kissed my son’s forehead, but he stopped me when I tried to move away.

“Mama?” he whispered softly, gazing at me with his green eyes, and I smiled before whispering back, “Yes,Angelo mio?”

“Let’s never leave here, okay? I want this to be our home with Niko, Andi, Alex, and Mika. Please, Mama.”

My smile faded as he waited for my answer, his eyes pleading, and I didn’t know what to say.

“I… Rafael…” Light knocks on the door interrupted me as it slowly creaked open, and Nikolaï peered inside without stepping in. Dressed in gray sweatpants and a simple white T-shirt, I caught a glimpse of a new, more personal side of him.

“Niko!” my son exclaimed, completely forgetting about me, and I took the opportunity to stand up, avoiding a conversation I wasn’t ready to handle.

“You came to say goodnight? That’s perfect,” I said as I walked toward the door, opening it wider to let him in—but he froze in place, staring at me with wide eyes, as if I’d just asked him to catch a shark with his bare hands while jumping off the villa’s terrace.

I gave him a questioning look, but he stayed put, unmoving, as an awkward silence filled the room. I could sense that familiar tension between Nikolaï and his sons creeping in, and I knew I had to act.

I reached for his hand, locking my gaze with his, offering him a gentle smile before pulling him into the room. He followed without hesitation.

I guided him to Andrei’s bedside and tried to step back, but he caught my wrist, pulling me close again, shooting me a look over his shoulder with furrowed brows. But I saw it in his eyes—he needed me here for this.

So I placed my hand on his back, feeling the stiffness of his muscles as he bent down to kiss Andrei’s cheek. The boy remained still, like a statue.

“Spokoynoy nochi, syn moy,” (Good night, my son) he murmured softly before straightening up, running his fingers through his son’s hair.

Then he moved to Alexei’s bedside, and I followed, keeping my hand on his lower back.

“Spokoynoy nochi, syn moy,” he repeated after pressing a kiss to Alexei’s hair. Unlike his brother, Alexei pulled his blanket over his face, turning his back to us. Nikolaï lingered for a few seconds, watching him, before stepping away.

I slowly removed my hand and headed toward the door, expecting him to follow. But he stopped at my son’s bedside this time, and I froze as I watched him kiss Rafael’s forehead, repeating the same words whose meaning I still didn’t understand.

My son kissed him on the cheek, his eyes glowing with a light I once thought was reserved only for me. And an overwhelming sense of relief washed over me.

Finally, Nikolaï joined me at the door. And just as we stepped out, Andrei’s small voice echoed behind us, “Spokoynoy nochi, papa.”

Nikolaï stopped in his tracks, his surprised gaze locking with mine as I smiled and gently closed the door behind us.

“You did the right thing,” I praised as we walked down the hallway. “I’m sure that with a little effort, everything will get better. Maybe you could find a nanny with a background in child psycholo—”

I stopped when he took my hand gently, bringing us both to a halt.

“Thank you. That meant a lot to me, Selina.” I stared at him, unsure how to respond—especially when he looked at me like that, like I was something precious.

His eyes wandered from my face to my braided hair, which rested over my shoulder. He reached for the end of the braid, twirling it between his fingers.

“Nikolaï…”

“We need to talk, Selina,” he said at the same time, and a silence settled between us. Not an uncomfortable one, but a peaceful, grounding one.

I finally nodded and took a step back, gently slipping my braid from his grasp.

“But first, I need to check on Mika. I promised him I’d help him with his math homework before he submits it tomorrow,” I told him, slowly backing away toward the other end of the hallway without breaking eye contact.

He watched me, his blue eyes still locked onto mine, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.