The kitchen went dead silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the gas burner igniting under Serena’s heavy steel pot.

The next morning dawned bright, clear, and loud.

At 7:00 AM sharp, a small, heavy object landed squarely on Victor’s chest, knocking the breath out of him.

Victor groaned, blinking his eyes open to find Nico sitting cross-legged on his stomach, holding a plastic football and wearing a pirate eye patch.

“Wake up, Captain Dad! The dog dug a hole under the fence and we need to launch a rescue mission!” Nico shouted.

Before Victor could answer, Marco, Alessandro, and Tommy piled onto the king-sized bed, followed closely by Lucia, who was wearing a superhero cape and brandishing a spatula like a magic wand.

Serena rolled over on her side, propping her head up on her hand with a lazy, amused smile as she watched the most feared man in New York get thoroughly dismantled by five laughing children and a puppy that had just trotted into the room with a stolen shoe in its mouth.

Victor looked up at Serena, completely trapped under a mountain of blankets, pillows, and stepchildren, threw his head back, and laughed—a rich, booming laugh that echoed through the sunlit bedroom.

“All right, battalion,” Victor commanded, sitting up and sweeping Nico off his chest. “Mission briefing in the kitchen in five minutes. Whoever pours the orange juice without spilling it on the floor gets extra pancakes.”

A chaotic cheer erupted as the boys scrambled off the bed and raced down the hallway, their footsteps thundering against the hardwood floor.

Lucia lingered behind, leaning against the mattress and looking up at Serena and Victor. “Can we go apple picking today?”

“Only if you promise not to throw them at your brothers,” Serena teased.

“No promises,” Lucia grinned, running off to join the pack.

Victor turned to Serena, pulling her close against his chest as the distant sounds of kitchen destruction drifted up the stairs.