Chapter 10

Her mouth trembles. She tries to speak.I raise a hand.She goes silent.

And I turn to Papa.

He's standing near the corner, still as stone, arms folded. That faint hum of violence just under the surface.

"Rain told you to go home," I say, lifting an eyebrow.

He scoffs without looking away from Kora. "Yeah," he mutters, deadpan. "After."

I smile.

"You want to have a go?"

He finally glances at me—those eyes, same as Rain's, same as Kaia's when she's angry and pretending she's not.

"Of course."

He steps forward slowly, stretching his fingers, cracking his neck. His movements are quiet, efficient. He doesn't need theatrics. Doesn't raise his voice. Doesn't posture.

That's what makes him terrifying.

Kora sees him clearly now. The recognition hits. Her mouth opens, her entire body recoils against the chair.

"W-wait," she stammers. "You—you're—"

"Kaia's grandfather" Papa says gently, like he's correcting a child. "And one of your judges."

Saifah chuckles darkly. Win doesn't move—his arms still crossed, gaze unreadable, like he's already killed her in his mind and now he's just waiting for the body to catch up.

I take a step back.Because I know what comes next.

Papa tilts his head, still watching her. His voice is calm. Soft.

"You took my granddaughter," he says. "You made my boy cry. You made both my boys panic."

He takes the gloves from the table and slides them on.

"I've buried men for less."

And I smile again—because this is the part of the family no one sees.The part you never cross.

....

Saifah's POV

We're in Phayu's office.

Just me and Win.Papa's still downstairs with Kora having...fun.

Phayu sits behind his desk, not saying much. One hand in his hair, the other clutching the armrest like it's the only thing keeping him upright.He looks like he's aged a year.

We all do.

I lean against the table, watching my twin.We share blood, breath, bones—but tonight he looks like a man who was almost broken. And maybe in some quiet way, still is.

Kaia was—is—the light of this family.The piece of innocence we all cling to.

We do terrible things, all of us.We break men. We burn cities. We build empires on the backs of secrets and blood.But then we come home...and she's there.

With her glitter and crayons and brain too sharp for her age.

She doesn't look at us like we're monsters.So we pretend we're not.

We convince ourselves that the chaos we manage is for her.For a world where someone like her never has to feel what it's like to be afraid.

But this time...It wasn't the mafia.It wasn't a hit.It wasn't a rival syndicate or political chess game.

It was something none of us saw coming.

Something that slipped through the cracks of all our weapons and war rooms and touched her anyway.

And I've never wanted to kill someone so slowly.

Every time she smiles at me...Every time she runs in yelling "Fah-Fah!" like she hasn't seen me in years, even if it's been just a day...Every time she climbs into my lap and demands new knives, or wants me to show her how the lasers in the security system work...She doesn't really understand it.But she's fascinated.

She wants to be strong.She wants to be smart.She wants to protect the people she loves.

She's already one of us.

And even if I never have a child of my own...

She's everything.

I glance at Phayu.At Win.

At the silence between us that says this won't happen again.

Whatever monsters we are—Whatever monsters we'll become—We'll burn the world to ash before we let it get near her again.

Phayu's POV

Win speaks first, his voice low but certain. "We got her back, Boss. She's safe."

Safe.That word tastes like ash in my mouth.

I lean forward in my chair, elbows on my table, hands clenched so tight my knuckles crack.And I shake my head.

"She never should've been in danger."

Win stays quiet.Saifah watches me from the other side of the room, silent too, waiting.

I drag a hand through my hair, then slam it down on the armrest. The sound echoes.

"She was right there, Win," I hiss. "With me. In the office. Sitting on that damn couch drawing fucking unicorns while I handled deals. And I let her go. I let her go with Isha. For ice cream."

The words split in my chest like a knife.

"I fucking sent her to be taken."

Win swallows hard. "It wasn't the first time, Boss. Nobody knew. Nobody saw it coming. Isha took her for ice cream all the time. She was cleared. Every single time. You couldn't have imagined this time would be different."

"But it was."

My voice is rough, breaking.She was right there.And I let her walk out the door.

Saifah finally steps forward. His voice is quiet, but it hits like a hammer.

"And now Isha is dead."

That lands.

I don't flinch. I don't speak.I just breathe it in.

Isha.Family friend. Employee. Loyal. Familiar.Used like a pawn.A knife turned inward.

"And we have Kora," Saifah adds, voice sharper now. "And Kaia is safe. She's home. The carnage we wrecked today—every shattered skull, every terrified whisper, every fucking message we left behind—was enough to remind every motherfucker watching that you don't fuck with us. You don't touch what's ours."

I lift my head, stare at my brother.

He's right.

But it doesn't erase the feeling.That I let it happen.That Rain cried today because of me.That Kaia likely screamed for help and I wasn't there to answer first.

I exhale slowly, like I'm forcing the guilt out with it.My fingers twitch with the urge to do something. Anything.

Win speaks again, gently. "We'll strengthen protocols. We'll vet every contact. Expand the blacklist. Add trackers to all authorized routes. We'll never leave a gap like this again."

I nod once.But it's not a protocol issue.It's a me issue.

I forgot how close enemies can live.How quiet obsessions grow in the dark.

Never again.

Just as I'm about to ask Win—just as the weight of everything pushes against my spine like it might crack me from the inside out—the door opens.

And Rain walks in.

In his arms—Kaia. Still asleep. Still curled like a little cat against his chest, her tiny hands knotted in the fabric of his shirt.

My breath catches.

They were both asleep when I left.I made sure. I watched them sleep.

But here he is.Rain, barefoot and exhausted, eyes glassy with the kind of fatigue that goes beyond the body.It's in his bones. In his soul.

He doesn't say anything at first.Just looks around—at the room, at Win and Saifah, at the unspoken violence hanging in the air.

And then his eyes find mine.

"I woke up," he says softly, "and you weren't with us."

My mouth opens. I shake my head—about to explain, about to reassure—

But he steps forward, tightening his hold on Kaia slightly as she stirs, nestling closer into his neck.

And he cuts me off, his voice low.

"Come back to bed."

There's something in his tone—gentle, yes, but firm. Not a plea. Not a request.

A tether.

"You need to rest too," he adds, and his eyes don't leave mine.

Then quieter—emphatic: "We need you."

I feel my jaw clench, throat thick.Those three words cut deeper than any of the ones we've said tonight.

We need you.

Not you're the boss.Not go finish this.Just...We.Need.You.

I nod once, tight. Then glance back at Saifah and Win. "In the morning."

They nod back. No argument. No protest.They know.

I walk toward my husband, and when I reach them, Rain shifts Kaia in his arms so I can take her.

She's heavy with sleep, her cheek warm against my shoulder as I slide one arm beneath her legs, the other cradling her back.

She doesn't wake.

I press a kiss to Rain's forehead and he exhales shakily, curling his fingers around the hem of my shirt.

We walk out together.Up the stairs.Back to our bed.

Where the world isn't burning, and all that matters is here.

When we get into the bedroom, I walk to the bed and carefully lay Kaia down between the pillows.She doesn't stir. Her mouth is slightly open, one tiny hand resting on Rain's side of the bed.

I tuck the blanket around her gently, fingers lingering for just a second on the curve of her cheek.

Then I turn to Rain. "I'll take a quick shower," I murmur.

He nods, already sliding into bed beside her, pulling her close. "Okay," he whispers.

I strip quietly—boots, shirt, pants—leaving the chaos of the night behind in a trail of black on the floor.The bathroom's warm, the scent of Rain's soap still lingering in the air.

I step under the spray, letting the hot water hit my skin like punishment.It scalds. I let it.My body aches.My head is full of images I can't erase—Kaia's voice on the phone, Rain's sobs in the command room, Kora's fucking delusions.

I lean my head against the wall, water pounding down my back.

And then...The soft sound of the door sliding open.A draft of cooler air.

Then dainty arms wrap around my waist.

Rain.

He presses himself into my back, lips kissing the ridge of my spine, just between my shoulder blades.

I close my eyes.

We stay like that.In silence.In steam.In everything we can't say out loud yet.

After a while, he gently turns me around.His hands move up to my face, brushing the wet strands of hair from my eyes, his fingers soft against my jaw.

He doesn't speak.He just grabs the body wash and the loofah and starts to wash me.

Slow. Deliberate. Tender.His touch careful, as if trying to put me back together without shattering what's left.

He doesn't rush.

He washes my arms.My chest.My back.My thighs.

In silence.

When he's done, I take it from him.My hands are shaking.

But I wash him too.

His pale skin under my rough palms. The scent of citrus and cedar. The little scar on his left hip I always kiss before bed.

When I'm done, we rinse.

He turns the water down, makes it quiet.The air shifts.

And then he speaks—softly, like a stone being lowered gently into still water.

"I don't blame you."

And that breaks me.

I drop my head into his shoulder, hands gripping his waist, and I let go.

Tears wrench through me—silent at first, then full-bodied, my chest heaving, my breath stolen.

He holds me like he always does, Like I'm not the monster people fear. Like I'm not the man who let his daughter walk into a trap.

He holds me like I'm just his.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into his skin, over and over again.

And he just holds me tighter.

Rain's POV

Phi cries in my neck.

Not silent tears. Not the restrained kind I've seen him shed before—when Kaia was born and cried for the first time.

This is something else.

He's shaking in my arms, gripping me like I'm the last solid thing in the world, repeating over and over again—I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Seven years.Seven years together.And I've never seen him like this.

This is the man who built an empire with bare hands and blood.The man whispered about in rooms no light touches.The man people call storm, call shadow, call death in a suit.

And he's breaking.In my arms.

I feel his tears hit my collarbone, feel the tension in his body as he tries to hold himself together and can't.

And I cry too.Because I remember what I said this morning.The way I looked at him.The anger in my voice, the blame.I hate it.I hate that I let the panic own me.

I slide my hands into his hair, pull his head back just enough to see him.

His face is raw.Eyes red, mouth parted like he's choking on guilt.

I press our foreheads together, breathing against him.

And I say it again, firmer now.

"I don't blame you."

He shakes his head. "I failed you."

"No."

"I failed her," he chokes. "I failed us. She was with me, Rain."

His voice cracks.

And I shake my head, firmer this time.

"She was with Isha," I whisper. "Who Kaia loved like an aunt. Who we trusted. Who's taken her out a hundred times before. You would die before anyone ever snatched our daughter out of your hands, Phi. I know that."

His breathing stutters, eyes shut tight.

"Nobody saw this coming," I continue, voice soft but unrelenting. "Not me. Not Win. Not Saifah. Not Papa. Not you."

"I should've—"

"No," I cut in gently. "I'm sorry I yelled. I'm sorry I blamed you. But I don't blame you. Not anymore. Not even a little bit."

I take his face in both hands.

"We got her back," I whisper. "She's home. In our bed. Safe. Breathing."

His eyes open, finally meeting mine.

"I'm here," I say. "And you're here."

And I lean in, pressing my lips to his in the quiet steam of our shared grief, our shared love.

Because if we survived this, We'll survive anything.

I say it plain, the words pulled out of me like a blade. "Tomorrow, we wake up, make our daughter breakfast, kiss her and drown her in love before her godfathers come for her — and then Kora will get a meeting from us, one that will end with her blood at the end of my blade and her last breath."

He exhales, shakily, and nods.

He might be the storm — brutal, inevitable — but where there's a storm there's always rain.

I feel that in the small, savage smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. She took my daughter from me. She made her small and scared. She made her cry. Even before the today she'd been doing it in class, the little cuts and cold looks, the way she'd made Kaia feel wrong in her own skin.

I already have plans for her.

Phi doesn't argue. He never argues when it's about Kaia. He slides his hand along my spine, warm and steady, and kisses me hard enough to steady the tremor under my ribs. The kiss is both promise and vow.

We step out of the shower together, steam clinging to our skin.

I let him close the glass, let the water stutter and die.

In the closet we dry each other in silence — quick, efficient strokes, the ritual of two people who know each other's scars.

I pull one of his shirts over my head; it falls to my thighs, big and soft, sleeves hanging loose. I'm wearing my sleep shorts beneath it.

He watches me for a second longer, like he's memorizing the shape of me.

Hand in hand, we move back into our room. Kaia is there — small and beautiful and asleep on our bed — the steady rise of her chest the only thing that matters. We slide under the covers together, me on one side, him on the other, both of us braced like sentries and soft like parents.

I press close to him, my body curled around the space she takes. He kisses my temple, and everything in me eases just enough to breathe.

Tomorrow we will be gentle until it hurts.

Tomorrow we will make the world remember what happens when you touch what is ours. Tonight, for now, we hold her and we rest.

***

Rain's POV

I wake up slowly, the kind of waking that comes after your body's been wrung out and finally allowed to rest. The room is warm and quiet, the curtains pulled shut, but soft light still leaks around the edges.

I blink a few times, then turn to check the time. Just past 10 a.m.

We slept in.Good.We earned it.

Yesterday was hell, and last night... last night cracked something open in both of us.

I roll onto my side and find them — my world.

Kaia's sleeping soundly on Phi's chest, her curls a halo of gold against his skin. One of her tiny hands is stretched toward me, resting in the space where my body usually is, like she reached out for me in her sleep.

I huff out a soft laugh.

She looks so small on him. His broad, tattooed chest rising and falling beneath her like a safe boat on quiet waves. His arm is wrapped around her protectively, holding her close like she might drift away again if he doesn't.

It's too cute. Too beautiful. Too much.

I shift, propping myself on one elbow to watch them better. The movement must stir him, because Phi's lashes flutter, and then his eyes crack open.

They land on mine instantly.

We just look at each other for a few seconds. No words. Just everything that passed between us last night still lingering in the silence.

Then I lean in and press a kiss to his lips, soft and sure.

"Hi," I whisper, smiling against him.

He reaches a hand out, thumb stroking gently over my cheek. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but they're soft. So soft.

I glance down at Kaia, nestled perfectly against him, her little face turned toward me. One finger is pressed lazily into her puckered lips, and her brows twitch in a dream.

I stroke her cheek with one fingertip, just enough to feel the warmth of her.

So perfect.So ours.

"She sleep okay?" Phi murmurs.

I nod. "Yeah. She's good."

He hums, and I see the slight tension ease from his jaw.

And me?

Yeah. I slept too.

Because everything I love is right here in this bed.

My husband.My daughter.My heart.

My whole world.

And I know Phi won't move while she sleeps.

Even in his sleep, he's a wall around her — that big arm cradling her back, the way his hand splays protectively across her tiny ribs like he's measuring each breath.

And I don't have it in me to wake her up either.

Not after the day she had.Not after what was taken from her — her safety, her certainty, her innocence, even if only for a moment.

So I stay still.

Lie there with them.

Just watching.

Kaia's little hand still rests in the space between us, her finger pressed to her lip, her curls spilling across Phi's chest. She shifts now and then, murmurs something in her sleep, but she hasn't fully stirred.

She's here.We're here.

And I hold my breath.

Not because I'm afraid she's not safe — I know we fixed that part. The doors are locked, the compound is sealed, every one of her godfathers is armed and angry and loves her more than life.

But I don't know how she'll wake.

Muted.Withdrawn.Quiet in a way that doesn't belong to her.Too still.Too careful.

Or will it be the other version — the one we know best?

Our sweet, chatty little princess with too many words in her mouth and her questions about why clouds don't fall out of the sky and whether our house is earthquake-proof and when she'll be allowed her own gun.

I want that girl to come back to us.

But I'll understand if she doesn't right away.

So I wait.

Watch her sleep on the chest of the man who would gut the world for her, and I pray in silence.

Not to a god.Just to the moment.To whatever kindness might still exist in this universe.

Let her wake up smiling.

Just once more.

And like I'd called her back to us with just the ache in my heart...She stirs.

Tiny. Warm. Real.

She shifts slightly against Phi's chest, face scrunching the way it always does when she's coming up from sleep — confused and slow, like she's trying to remember what being human means.Phi always teases me that she wakes the same way I do.Like the concept of morning is a personal insult.

Her lashes flutter once, twice.And then her eyes open fully.

They land on mine.

Big. Bleary. Brown.

"Papa?" she whispers.

My throat tightens instantly.Emotion slams up into my chest so fast I have to swallow hard just to speak.

"Good morning, princess," I whisper, voice breaking on the last word.

She blinks again, then pushes herself up slowly on Phi's chest. She looks down, realizes where she is — feels the warmth of his arm around her, the familiar heartbeat under her hand.

"Dada?" she says, voice still sleepy-soft.

Phi blinks open his eyes and smiles like he's seeing heaven."Hi, tiger."

And then...She smiles.

That dazzling, sunshine-filled, toothy smile that knocks the air from my lungs every time.

I feel the breath rush out of me in one heavy exhale — not just relief, but elation.

Gratitude so fierce it feels like prayer.

She's still her.Our girl.Still Kaia.Still light.

I lean in and kiss her forehead, again and again, until she giggles and wriggles and flops back into the pillows between us like she's never been taken, never been touched by fear.

She's here.We're here.

And the sun is shining again.....

We don't leave the bed at first.

We stay curled up in the blankets like nothing in the world exists beyond this room — just me, Phi, and our sunshine with wild curls and sleepy breath who giggles every time one of us kisses her cheek too loud.

She's sprawled between us, legs kicking, face beaming as we take turns blowing bubbles on her tummy, pressing kisses into her face, making the silliest expressions just to hear her laugh.

And she laughs.

Loud, bright, no trace of fear.Like yesterday never happened.

And I'm so grateful.

So grateful it wasn't bad enough to take this from her.That we got her back before the light dimmed, before her little heart learned the wrong things about the world.

I hold onto that sound—her laughter—as long as I can.

But eventually, our wild child has other plans.

"Papa," she says, flopping dramatically onto my chest, "I'm starving. I want pancakes. The chocolate chip ones. With whipped cream. And the chocolate sauce. And the sprinkles. And the little stars."

I raise a brow. "All that, huh?"

She nods seriously. "All that."

I press a kiss to her forehead. "You need to brush your teeth first, princess."

She sighs like I've asked for the world, then nods anyway, flopping backward again, limbs everywhere.

"Okay," she says dramatically, "but extra chocolate."

I glance over at Phi just as he pushes the blanket off and stands. He's shirtless, his hair down around his shoulders, and honestly, if I weren't so full of love and pancakes, I'd probably jump him right here.

He stretches lazily, back muscles flexing, tattoos shifting with the movement.

Kaia, however, is unfazed by how devastating her father looks. She's bouncing on the bed again, now listing every single thing she wants with breakfast.

"And strawberries! And syrup! And hot chocolate with marshmallows and that cinnamon thing Papa puts—"

Phi turns toward her, eyebrow raised. "Hop on, tiger," he says, holding his arm out. "You heard Papa. Teeth first."

She squeals in delight and launches herself at him, wrapping around his body like a baby koala as he hoists her up effortlessly.

And I watch them.My beautiful, chaotic, perfect family.And I think to myself:

This is everything.And we made it out with all of it still intact.

>>>

I pad over to the wall panel near the fridge and cue up our "Breakfast" playlist — the one Kaia and I made together on a rainy Sunday with glitter stickers on my laptop and far too much hot chocolate when Phi was out of town.

The first song starts, something bright and bouncy with harmony and a beat that's impossible not to move to.

Kaia gasps like she's just heard the sound of magic."Yes!" she squeals. "Papa, it's the shake it off song!"

"That's right, princess," I grin, grabbing a whisk and holding it like a mic. "We have a show to put on."

We dance around the kitchen, barefoot on the cool tile, our own tiny concert stage. She twirls with a spatula in hand, her little pajama shorts riding up and her curls bouncing everywhere. I follow her lead, swaying, hopping, both of us belting the lyrics like we're on tour.

Phi's at the cooker frying eggs, but he turns slightly, watching us with that soft, crooked smile — the one that's all quiet adoration.

She blows kisses at him between verses. I do a ridiculous shimmy and grab her hand, twirling her dramatically. We're chaotic and loud and off-key and perfect.

"Dada, are you watching?" Kaia calls out between giggles."I'm always watching, tiger," he says, flipping an egg like a pro without even turning his head.

As the chorus hits, I wink at Kaia and raise my hand for the final move.She knows the cue."Go, Papa!"

I twirl right into Phi's waiting arms.

He catches me effortlessly, one hand at my waist, the other behind my back — and bends me like we're in a ballroom, not our messy kitchen.

I laugh, breathless, one hand curled behind his neck."Show-off," I murmur.

He pulls me up slowly, grinning, then kisses me deep — soft, but grounding, his mouth warm with love and heat and eggs and safety.

Behind us, a tiny voice bursts with dramatic offense."Dada, me too!!!"

Phi pulls back laughing, already turning to scoop her up.He lifts her high, spinning her in a circle as she squeals.Then he peppers kisses all over her face — loud, messy, exaggerated — her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, chin. She's giggling so hard she almost drops her spatula.

I lean back against the counter, watching them, heart too full.

She's home.She's safe.She's Kaia again.

We go back to our dancing, chaotic and offbeat, bouncing around the kitchen while Phi finishes up the eggs and flips the final pancake with the kind of precision that should not look that hot.

He plates it all together — not three plates, just one.

A ridiculously stacked mountain of pancakes, eggs, strawberries, syrup, whipped cream, sprinkles, and one chocolate star on top.

Kaia gasps like he's just given her treasure."WHOA."

"Breakfast for tigers," he says, already lifting her up and setting her right on the kitchen counter. No high chair today. No distance. Just closeness.

She claps her hands together and wiggles her toes in the air, singing something under her breath about pancakes being love.

I grab two forks and pass one to Phi.

We dig in — one bite for her, one bite for him, one bite for me, and more whipped cream than strictly necessary.

And for a while, there's nothing but chewing, humming, syrupy fingers, and Kaia's cheeks full of food as she talks about pancakes being the best thing ever.

....

The last of the pancakes have been ravaged — Kaia's fingers are sticky, Phi's shirt has a small syrup smear on the hem, and my jaw actually aches from smiling too much.

She's mid-bite, trying to stack a piece of strawberry and egg on the same fork, when the kitchen door swings open.

"Kai bear!" Win's voice explodes through the room like a firecracker.

Kaia's head snaps up so fast she nearly drops her fork.

"Uncle Win!!" she screams back, instantly trying to leap off the counter.

Phi, already anticipating the chaos, wraps an arm around her waist to stop her from flinging herself onto the tile. He helps her down gently, and she bolts toward Win and Saifah, who've come in carrying bags and grins like smug uncles on a mission.

"Fah-Fah!" she squeals, arms already wide.

Saifah opens his arms and lets her launch into him like a missile, catching her with a practiced grunt.

And then P'Cherry walks in behind them, hands on hips, mouth already open.

"Kaia!" she gasps, mock-offended. "What about me, hmm? I was worried sick and now you forget me the moment these two chaos goblins walk in?"

Kaia turns dramatically in Saifah's arms, puts a hand to her chest like she's in a soap opera."I didn't forget, P'Cherry! I just—Uncle Win yelled first!"

Win snorts, already heading to the table to steal a piece of strawberry."Classic. Blame Uncle Win for being fun."

Kaia squirms down and runs to P'Cherry, who crouches instantly to hug her tight."You gave me a heart attack, little monkey," she whispers, clutching her, brushing a hand over her curls.

"I'm okay now," Kaia says seriously, leaning into the hug. "Papa and Dada came for me."

I exchange a look with Phi, my chest full. He nods slightly — a quiet moment between us as the house fills again with her people.

...

Phi's behind me, solid and warm, his arms wrapped around my waist as we lean against the counter. I feel the steady rhythm of his chest against my back, the soft kiss he presses to my shoulder grounding me in a way that nothing else ever could.

Across the kitchen, Kaia is flying.

Quite literally.

Win and Saifah have her in some ridiculous game, throwing her gently — but still too high for my heart — between them like she's a giggling feather. Her curls bounce with each launch, her shrieks of joy bouncing louder.

I call out without thinking, "Careful! She just had breakfast — she's gonna puke all over the floor!"

They just laugh."Uncle Win knows the puke limit!""She's got five more throws in her, easy," Saifah grins.

Idiots.Lovable, ride-or-die, ex-military, deadly idiots.Who love my daughter like she's their own.

And she laughs so hard it actually makes my eyes sting.

P'Cherry steps away from the chaos, toward me. She rounds the island slowly, and when she reaches me, she stretches her hand across the counter and takes mine.

Her grip is gentle. Firm. Familiar."She's back home," she says softly.

I nod. Swallow. "She is."

I can't say anything more than that.

Because if I open my mouth too much, I might cry again.

Phi kisses my shoulder again, his hand firm at my waist, holding me steady like he always does. I lean back into him fully, closing my eyes for just a second as the laughter continues in front of us.

P'Cherry gives my hand one last squeeze before pulling back, her eyes still fixed on Kaia's laughter in the background.

"I'll check on her later if you two get busy," she says, voice light but laced with care.

But I shake my head before she even finishes the sentence.

"No need. We're not going anywhere."Business can wait. Meetings can wait.The world can wait.

The only place we're meant to be is right here.

She nods, reading the look in my eyes, and steps out quietly — the hum of her heels fading down the hallway.

Phi turns me in his arms the moment we're alone again in the quiet edge of the kitchen.

My hands settle instinctively on his shoulders, fingers brushing over the line of muscle and heat beneath his skin. His hands grip my waist, warm and steady, and when he leans in, our noses brush softly.

He kisses me once, slow and full.Then pulls back just enough to whisper against my lips,"We've been through too much. You can't leave me. Ever."

I chuckle softly into his mouth, nose brushing his again, my breath warm over his lips."Where would I go?" I whisper. "My world is right here."

His eyes flicker — full of every war we survived, every vow we made, every piece of ground we clawed back together.

He kisses me again — deeper this time, lips parting mine with heat and possession and something quieter, too. Gratitude. Need. Home.

We fall into it  easy, natural, like breathing.

Until "They're kissing again, Uncle Win!"

Kaia's voice rings out like a bell, full of laughter and scandal.

I laugh into Phi's mouth. He grins against me.

From across the kitchen, Win doesn't miss a beat. "And you can't ever do it until you're fifty, young lady!"

I laugh, already knowing exactly what's coming.

And sure enough— Kaia, perched dramatically on Saifah's shoulder like a princess on a very buff throne, shrugs and chirps back, "But what if Rocky wants to kiss me?"

I don't even get a chance to react before I feel Phi stiffen behind me — like every muscle in his body just went into red alert.His hands tighten on my waist.

Behind us, Win lets out a wounded groan.Saifah actually curses under his breath.

There it is.The name.

Rocky.The one with the uneven haircut, crooked smile, and allegedly, according to our daughter, sparkly light-up shoes and a crush the size of Bangkok.

We've been hearing about Rocky for the past few months — how he gives her the pink crayons, how he saves her a seat at lunch, how he says she's pretty.

And her father and uncles?

They've been declaring war every single time.

"Not this again," Saifah groans, dropping his head back dramatically.

"Rocky needs to go to military school," Win mutters, reaching for coffee.

Phi is quiet.

Too quiet.

I turn in his arms just enough to look up at him and raise a brow."Breathe, Storm."

"I am breathing," he growls. "Breathing through the urge to text his father."

"You have his father's number?"

"I have everyone's number."

I chuckle and press a kiss to his chest, right over his sternum."Phi, he's five. And she doesn't even like him back. She said his nose is weird."

"That's not good enough."

Kaia giggles from across the room, throwing her arms in the air."I'm not gonna kiss him! It was a question! Papa, tell them!"

I call back, "We've already agreed, sweetheart — no kisses until you're sixteen and pass a polygraph test."

She gasps. "What's a pograph test?"

"Something Rocky will fail," Phi mutters under his breath.

And Win adds, "Spectacularly."

Saifah: "I don't care if he passes or not, he's going to juvie."

Kaia just laughs and twirls, completely unbothered, living her best spoiled princess life.As if summoned by sheer will — or possibly the volume of Kaia's giggles and Win's anti-Rocky declarations — the door opens again.

"Good morning, chaos clan!" Pai calls out dramatically, arms spread wide like he's stepping onto a stage.

And right beside him, Sky walks in holding two large pastel boxes from his bakery, wearing his soft pink hoodie, and smiling like he knows exactly how much sugar is in those boxes and how little we're going to be able to say no.

Kaia screams.

"UNCLE SKY!!! UNCLE PAI!!"

She launches herself off, leaving Saifah and Win flailing behind her, and barrels straight into Sky's legs. He barely has time to lift the pastry boxes out of the way before she's hugging him around the waist.

"Oh no, someone's sticky," he teases, kissing the top of her curls, "you been eating syrup again, princess?"

"It's pancake day!" she beams. "And chocolate sauce day! And also Papa's dancing day!"

Pai ruffles her curls fondly, then lifts her up and spins her. "You're glowing today, little storm. You okay?"

She nods, curls bouncing. "I'm okay now. Papa and Dada made pancakes and I brushed my teeth and we danced and Uncle Win said I can't kiss Rocky until I'm fifty."

Everyone groans at once.

Pai pauses mid-spin, Kaia perched on his hip, and blinks in mock confusion."It's fifty now?" he says, deadpan, looking directly at Phi and Win."I thought we agreed on seventy."

Phi crosses his arms, scowling like a mafia don whose plans have just been betrayed. "We did."

Win, biting into a pastry Sky handed him, shrugs. "I was being generous. Intimidation works better when they think we're reasonable."

Sky laughs behind his cup of iced coffee. "Reasonable? You threatened to send a five-year-old to the army."

"Military preschool," Win corrects. "Big difference."

"Rocky's not even bad," Kaia defends, puffing her cheeks out now that she realizes a tribunal is forming. "He gave me the pink star sticker and he shared his juice!"

"Bribery," Saifah says, arms crossed. "That's mafia behavior. That boy's already dangerous."

Kaia is now stuffing her cheeks with a strawberry croissant Sky made just for her, humming happily and completely oblivious to the war council forming around her love life.

But before more chaos can unfold, the door opens once more.Papa and Dad step in.

Kaia gasps.

"GRANDADA! GRANDPAPA!!"

And the moment they enter, it's like the final pieces of the puzzle slide into place.

The entire family is here.

And Kaia — our girl, our miracle, our light — is bursting at the seams with joy.

She darts across the floor, throwing herself into Papa's arms first. He lifts her with ease, kissing her cheek with so much gentleness it makes my chest ache.

"Morning, my love," he says quietly.

"Did you bring the sword again?" she whispers.

"Always."

She squeals.

Then she turns to Dad and hugs him just as fiercely. He strokes her back and murmurs, "You're glowing, princess."

She turns, eyes wide and bright. "Because everyone's here!"

And she's right.

Every person who matters.Every protector.Every heartbeat that loves her without condition.

As Phi's hand finds mine again, as Kaia climbs onto Papa's shoulders, as laughter floods the kitchen and Sky starts opening boxes of cream-filled treats —

I know we made it.

We made it through the nightmare.

And we came back to this.

Joy. Wholeness. Family.

...

What started as breakfast turned into a full-blown family day before anyone could stop it.And honestly? I'm glad we didn't.

Phi and Win are manning the grill outside— Phi shirtless again, tattoos catching the sun, tongs in hand and a permanent scowl of focus on his face as he flips skewers like the meat personally offended him.

Win's laughing beside him, fanning the flames and talking shit like the steaks can hear him.

Pai and Saifah are on drink duty — which means half the garden table is lined with fancy glass bottles, fruit slices, and cocktail umbrellas that Kaia is definitely going to steal.

Pai's got a towel over his shoulder and a sprig of mint behind his ear for aesthetic, while Saifah's just shaking every drink like he's in a club.

Kaia?She's screaming with joy in the pool.

Papa's in with her, still somehow elegant while being pelted with rubber ducks, and Dad is floating nearby on a ridiculous flamingo float she made him ride. Her giggles echo off the garden walls every time he splashes her or lets her climb onto his back.

I'm on a lounge chair, stretched out under the shade, Sky beside me, both of us holding drinks that have too much alcohol and not enough mixer, and we're not complaining.

It's warm, the good kind.The sky is blue.Music hums low from the speakers tucked into the hedges.

Sky leans over and offers me nuts.I take it, smile, and let the moment breathe.

Kaia's alive.Kaia's happy.And every person she loves is within arm's reach.

She splashes toward the edge suddenly, water glistening on her cheeks."Papa! Papa look!" she calls, holding up a plastic ring she dove to get."Granpapa said if I get five more I get a present!"

"You better collect ten, baby," I call back, laughing. "Make him work for it!"

She squeals and dives again, Papa cheering her on.

Sky glances over at me, smile soft."You okay?"

I nod. "Yeah."

And I mean it.

No tension in my chest.No fear under my skin.Just sun. Laughter. Meat on the grill. My husband, my daughter, my family.

Unplanned, yes.But perfect.

...

The boys are gathered around the grill, laughing loud and relaxed.

I can see Phi from here — shirtless, long hair down, arms flexing as he turns the meats. Sunlight glints off the chain around his neck, the one Kaia gave him for Father's Day, and it rests right above the curve of a tattoo I probably shouldn't be staring at in public.

But I do.I am.Because damn, my man is fine.

He's laughing at something Win says — one of those full-bodied laughs where his eyes crinkle and his head tips back slightly — and I feel it in my spine. Like my body wants to respond before my brain even has a chance.

Beside me, Sky shifts and clears his throat with all the pointed subtlety of a dramatic old lady.

I don't even look at him. Just roll my eyes, slow and indulgent.He knows that look.

I roll my eyes. "What?"

He smirks. "You're staring."

I set down my glass, already standing. "Where are you going?" he teases, grinning into his cup like he doesn't know what I'm up to

"To get a piece of my husband, of course," I say smoothly. "I miss him."

Sky chokes on his drink, laughing. "He's literally 10 feet away from you."

"Exactly"

I wink and start making my way across the lawn, barefoot in the grass, the warmth soft underfoot.

Phi looks up the moment I cross the halfway point. His eyes find mine like a reflex, his grin softening into something slower, something quieter — that smile he only saves for me.

And in that moment, the grill, the drinks, the pool — all of it fades.

Because all I see is him.Tongs in one hand. Beer in the other. Hair falling around his shoulders like a lion's mane.And mine.

I slip in beside him, "Hey."

He glances down at me, quiet. "Hey, beautiful ."

"I missed you."

He scoffs a laugh. "I've been standing in the same yard."

"Not close enough," I murmur, stepping in and sliding my arms around his waist.

He leans into me, lets his head dip just enough to press his lips to my forehead."You okay?"

"Yeah." I nod. "Better now."

He holds me for a beat longer, then kisses the top of my head again. "I was watching you. Sitting there in my shirt, smiling like that. You look happy."

"I am happy," I whisper. "We're all here. She's here. And you're grilling shirtless, so that helps."

He chuckles, the sound low in his throat."Want the first skewer?"

"I want you, Phi."

That gets a reaction. He turns slightly, hands resting low on my hips now, eyes serious for a second."You have me."

I reach up and tug his face down just enough to kiss him. It's soft, unhurried. Familiar.

Behind us, Win groans. "Can you two not? This is a family-friendly barbecue."

Saifah mutters, "God, every time."

And right on cue— "DADA AND PAPA ARE KISSING AGAIN!!" Kaia yells from the pool, giggling so hard she almost swallows water.

Phi pulls back, his mouth still brushing mine, smiling that stupid beautiful smile that makes me want to kiss him all over again."You taste sweet," he murmurs.

I grin. "It's the mimosas."

He huffs a laugh, then turns back to the grill, grabs a skewer — still hot, still sizzling — and blows on the end gently. He holds it up to my mouth."Eat, baby."

I lean forward and bite, the flavor bursting rich and smoky and perfect. A streak of juice runs down my chin. Before I can even lift my hand to wipe it...

He leans in.

His tongue drags slow and deliberate along my skin, catching the juice with a flick.Then he kisses the corner of my mouth like he meant to do that all along.

"You're messy," he murmurs.

"You love it," I whisper back, dazed, barely holding in the way my knees buckle.

"Of course I do."

Behind us, Saifah lets out an exaggerated cough.Win groans again. "I told you this would happen. Every damn barbecue."

Phi pulls back, smiling against my mouth. "We're setting a good example," he whispers.

I grin. "Of what? How to make everyone else jealous?"

Phi just chuckles feeds me again. "Eat before I kiss you in front of your daughter again."

I take a bite and sigh. "it's the second-best meat you've ever put in my mouth."

Phi chokes. Saifah drops his beer. Win walks away muttering "I need a raise."

And Kaia?She's yelling again from the pool."WHAT DID PAPA SAY?!"

Phi hides his face in my shoulder. I just laugh and keep chewing.

Phi leans in behind me, lips brushing the shell of my ear."Wanna go somewhere quiet for a quickie?" he murmurs, voice low and sinful.

My whole body reacts.I'm already half-turned to answer when—"PAPA!! I NEED TO PEE!!"

Kaia's voice cuts through the moment like a knife.

I freeze.Phi bites back a laugh.I groan, head dropping against his shoulder. "Of course."

"Go on, tiger's calling," he says, smug.

"She has your timing," I mutter, pulling away and turning toward the pool.

Kaia's holding onto the ladder, one hand waving wildly. "Hurry, Papa! I drank juice AND milkshake!"

"Coming, baby!" I shout back, jogging toward her.

She practically leaps into my arms as I scoop her out of the water, her wet curls clinging to my chest.

As I carry her toward the house, she wraps her arms around my neck and whispers, "Sorry. But I really had to go."

I laugh. "You saved me, princess. Your Dada's been trying to ruin me in broad daylight again."

She gasps. "Is that bad?"

"Extremely," I whisper, kissing her damp forehead. "Let's handle business, then we'll come back for burgers round two."

She cheers. "And maybe I get to grill next time?"

"Only if you promise not to set the backyard on fire."

"Deal!"

I take her to her bathroom. She's shivering a little from the pool, so I help her out of her swimsuit gently, guiding her to sit and humming some tune under my breath while she pees.

She kicks her feet the whole time.

When she's done, I clean her up, then grab one of her tiny towels and kneel in front of her, gently working my fingers through her curls, trying to untangle the wet mess without pulling too hard.

She's quiet.

Too quiet.

And then she says it — soft, barely above a whisper: "Papa... I did something bad."

I still, hand paused in her hair.I lower myself to meet her eyes.

"What did you do, baby?"

She looks down, twisting her fingers together, the way she does when she thinks she's in trouble. Her voice is small.

"I lied to Miss Kora. I said I needed to pee, but... I didn't. I just wanted the car to stop. I just wanted to go home."

My heart cracks.

Right there on the bathroom floor.

"Oh, baby..." I whisper, reaching to gently cup her cheek.

She looks up at me, worried, eyes glossy."I didn't want to be a bad girl. But I didn't know what else to do."

"You weren't bad," I say immediately, firmly, without hesitation. "You were so smart. You were so brave."

"But I lied..."

"To protect yourself. To get somewhere safe. That wasn't wrong, Kaia. That was brilliant."

She blinks. "Really?"

I nod and press my forehead to hers. "I'm so proud of you. You helped us find you. You saved yourself, my love. That was the smartest thing you could've done."

She sniffles a little, then wraps her small arms around my neck."I just wanted you and Dada," she mumbles.

"You have us," I whisper back, holding her tightly. "Always, always."

I hug her for a bit, before i resume drying her again.

Kaia's little fingers are playing with the edge of the towel when she says it, quiet but trembling at the edges."What if Miss Kora is mad and she's going to punish me in school?"

The words hit like a blade to my gut.My jaw tightens before I can stop it.

Kora will never be near my daughter again.Not in that school. Not in this lifetime.

I breathe through the anger, forcing my voice soft as I brush a damp curl from Kaia's forehead.

"Princess," I start carefully, "before you and Miss Kora went on that... adventure"

The word tastes like poison. It doesn't belong here, not for what really happened.

"—Lilly told me Miss Kora was making you help her a lot in class. She said Miss Kora made you work too hard, that she stopped you from playing at recess. She said she even told you to call her Mama because she was 'teaching you how to be a girl.'"

Kaia's eyes widen a little, the towel still clutched in her hands.

"Why didn't you tell me and Dada, baby?" I ask, keeping my voice steady even though I can feel my pulse pounding in my throat.

Her bottom lip trembles. She looks down at her knees. "I didn't want to make anyone mad."

"Who, sweetheart?"

She hesitates. "Miss Kora said if I told, I'd get in trouble for not listening in class. And that if I told you or Papa, you'd think I was being bad."

I go completely still.

She keeps talking, her voice wobbling but steady enough to stab right through me."You always tell me to be kind and to help people, Papa. She was always calling me to help, and I didn't want to be rude. But then I got too tired."Her little hands twist the towel in her lap."I wanted to be strong. She said I don't have a mama, so she'll teach me how to be a girl."

My whole body goes cold.