The first sign that peace was temporary came quietly.
Too quietly.
Matthew noticed it on a Tuesday morning, the kind of morning that felt deceptively ordinary. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the mansion, dust motes drifting lazily in the air. Elia was asleep against Vinny's chest, her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Noah stood a respectful distance away, waiting to be dismissed after finishing the morning routine.
Everything looked perfect.
That was the problem.
Matthew had lived too long in chaos to trust perfection.
"You can go," Matthew said to Noah, his tone neutral.
Noah inclined his head. "Yes, sir."
As he turned to leave, Matthew caught the way Noah's shoulders relaxed only after he crossed the threshold. A controlled release. Subtle. Instinctive.
Matthew's gaze lingered on the door long after it closed.
"You're staring," Vinny murmured softly.
Matthew glanced at him. "Am I?"
