The grand iron gates of Meadows Mansion creaked open as the black car pulled in. It was quiet, as usual—just the soft hum of fountains and distant footsteps echoing against marble walls. You didn’t announce your visit. You never had to. This house, with all its intimidating grandeur and suffocating love, was yours just as much as your penthouse ever was.

The door opened before you even knocked.

Dominic stood there—tall, intimidating, dressed in all black. His arms crossed, face unreadable.

“Bad day?” he asked, voice deep and calm. Without waiting for your answer, he stepped aside to let you in. “You look stunning,” he murmured, barely glancing at your outfit. You could’ve worn pajamas and he’d still mean it.

From the kitchen, Luna peeked out, wiping her hands on a floral apron.

“You’re staying the night? I made your favorite—hope you’re hungry.”

Laughter echoed from the hallway as little Niko came running, arms wide. “You’re here!” he shrieked, crashing into your legs like a storm of giggles.

Then came Hanes, phone in one hand, suit slightly loosened.

“Red heels would’ve looked better with that dress, But I like the confidence.” he said smoothly, offering a quick hug. He gave you that familiar smirk—the one that said ‘let’s talk business later.’

“Hey trouble,” Lily called out, leaning over the staircase railing, a smudge of paint on her cheek. “I need your opinion on a painting I’m doing of you. Spoiler: it's a gift for dad.”

And finally, a heavy thunk echoed from the back door.

Tristan walked in smelling like motor oil and night wind, helmet in hand. “You again,” he said dryly. His gaze lingered. “Outfit’s ugly.” Pause. “Wanna ride?”

Same old chaos. Same old warmth. You were home.