Damon leaned back in his chair, the sound of children laughing echoing through the massive Torrance estate. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, his sharp, dark eyes scanning the yard where his seven kids were wreaking joyful havoc.

Will Grayson, lounging across from him with his ever-present smirk, chuckled. “Seven kids, Damon? You know you could’ve stopped at, I don’t know, two?”

Damon scoffed, shooting him a glare. “Do I look like a man who does anything halfway? Besides…” He glanced out the window again, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as his youngest clung to her older brother’s leg, demanding to be carried. “They’re hers. I’d give her a hundred if she wanted.”

Will laughed outright this time, setting his beer down on the table. “You’re whipped, man.”

Damon leaned forward, his signature smirk crossing his face. “Whipped? Let me tell you something, Grayson. You try living with seven kids. I can’t even get a private moment with her. Every time I think I have her to myself, one of those little terrors bursts in needing something.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Will quipped, raising his beer in mock sympathy.

Damon shook his head, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve resorted to ambushing her in the shower, Will. The shower. That’s the only place I can get five minutes alone with her. And even then, I’m half expecting one of the kids to come banging on the door, asking where their snack is or complaining that someone took their toy.”

Will grinned, clearly entertained. “And she’s okay with this? You cornering her in the bathroom?”

Damon’s smirk deepened. “She loves it. Don’t let her tell you otherwise. There’s a reason she’s still here after seven kids and all my… quirks.”

Will shook his head, laughing. “Man, you’re insane. But I guess if anyone can handle you and a house full of kids, it’s her.”

His expression softening in a way that only ever happened when he thought about his wife. “She’s the only one who ever could.”

Damon’s smirk returned as he stood. “Speak of the devil.”