–Damon–

Seven weeks gone, and he walks back through the door with a fiancée—pregnant, no less. I folded my arms across my chest, shaking my head at the audacity. They’re rushing into marriage, and there’s my little sister Alyssa—though she’s not so little anymore—squirming with excitement. Her turn comes soon, after that agreement with Mom.

Kelly—alive, though the world believes her dead thanks to Livana’s staged funeral—sat there with her hair dyed some shade between red and pink. Alyssa called it "Pink-Brown." Whatever it was, it suited her. My wife lounged by the sofa, eating casually while David introduced his ex-secretary as his fiancée.

"Everyone, welcome my future wife. Xyriel."

So that’s her real name.

We all played dumb, as we always do. That’s the drill. For her safety.

"Welcome to the family!" Mom exclaimed, embracing her warmly, even resting a hand on her belly.

"Thank you," Xyriel murmured.

"Call me Mom, alright? We’re family now." Mom’s eyes gleamed as she reached for the engagement ring. "Unique design. But I have heirlooms upstairs—you can choose one for your wedding."

"I’ll prepare everything!" Alyssa chimed in, practically glowing.

Louie and Rhys had just arrived too, waiting for Livana to go into labor so they could meet the triplets. Something simmered between them—I’d heard Rhys scolding Louie over the phone during that critical operation.

"Since XY is settled, I need to go," Rhys said, glancing at Livana.

"No, join us for lunch," Livana replied casually. I chuckled at her tone. "You too, Louie."

"Is that your girlfriend, bro?" Lore teased, shooting Alyssa a conspiratorial look. Those two—always playing matchmaker.

Lunch was chaos, the children filling the air with noise. Sky interrogated Xyriel with his usual bluntness.

"You marry Tito?" he asked again.

"I suppose," she smiled.

"Why?" His question made me laugh. David frowned at his two-year-old nephew.

"Because he insisted," Xyriel—Kelly—answered smoothly.

"Oh." Sky returned to his food. "Baddie, Tito."

We all laughed.

"Pretty, Tita," Zendaya added, gazing at Xyriel.

"Thank you, Zen-Zen," she replied warmly.

"You got money?"

"Zeny," Laura hissed.

"I do," Xyriel said, her eyes glinting knowingly.

"Can you buy me a dollhouse?"

"Sure," she answered without hesitation.

"Thank you."

David groaned. "I’m sorry about my niece and nephew."

"Don’t worry," Xyriel said firmly. "Once this baby comes, you’ll need to be prepared." She spoke with more maturity than David himself. I approved of her.

"I need to walk," Livana said suddenly, rising. I moved to her side instantly.

"No—to the hospital."

"Is it coming out?" David leapt to his feet, excitement flashing in his eyes.

"We need to go!" Kai barked, still recovering but ready to act.

"Hold on, baby. I’ll grab the bags." I rushed upstairs, snatched the baby bag and luggage waiting by our closet, and came back down with the sling bag strapped across me.

The family ambulance was already outside, escorts in place. Dad took the bags while I steadied Livana.

"Please, get me that orange juice from the cooler!" she added, and David sprinted to fetch it.

"Mama!" Sky cried, running after us.

"Sky, you can’t come!"

I guided Livana into the ambulance, the family nurse assisting swiftly.

Inside, Dad sat with me as I held my wife’s hand. She sipped the orange juice, her face calm, her strength radiating.

"How are you?" I asked, my voice low, possessive, protective.

"I’m fine," she answered, almost nonchalant.

*****

I was panicking, my chest tight, my mind racing. I didn’t know what else was happening around me—only that she went into labor an hour after we arrived.

On the delivery bed, I held her hand. Her skin was slick with sweat, her grip fierce. She cursed at me, her voice raw, furious—the same way she had with our other births, but this time it was sharper, heavier. She clawed at my PPE, yanking my collar, dragging me closer.

"I fucking hate you!" she growled, her voice breaking through the sterile air.

Dr. Green’s calm command cut through the chaos. "Push further, Mrs. Blackwell."

And then—the cry. The first one. I peeked over, heart pounding, and saw him: an albino baby boy, pale and perfect, just like her.

"Okay, my love," I whispered, my voice thick with awe. "We’ve got two more girls coming."

She caught her breath, shaking her head, exhausted but relentless.

"You’ve got this, Mrs. Blackwell," Dr. Green encouraged, his tone steady as the nurse washed our son and wrapped him in a towel.

I took him into my arms, the weight of him grounding me, and leaned close to show her. Her lips curved into a tired smile before she braced herself to push again.

"You’ve got it, my love," I murmured, my voice low, commanding yet tender.

Our firstborn’s wail filled the room, piercing and alive. I held him tighter, my heart melting—just as it had the first time I held Sky.

******

Everyone crowded into the VIP nursery, a room reserved solely for the triplets. The air buzzed with awe and hushed excitement.

"Wow, they’re so beautiful," Jane whispered, her voice trembling with wonder.

My wife slept peacefully, and I stood proudly before the glass wall, presenting my children to the family. Sky rested in my arms, his wide eyes fixed on his baby siblings. Two bodyguards—one male, one female—stood sentinel by the door.

"Babies!" Sky giggled, his laughter echoing like music.

Our son bore the name of his great-grandfather: Reagan Joshua. He was the mirror of my albino wife, his amethyst eyes gleaming like rare jewels. Beside him lay our second child, Sierra, her unmatched eyes—one amethyst, one like mine—set in a face framed by black hair that carried my bloodline. And then, our youngest, Raven, perfect in every way, a reflection of her mother’s beauty.

"Wok, Mama!" Sky pointed at Raven, then at Reagan. I nodded, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Yes, they look just like your Mama."

"Wow!" Zendaya and Zayvier gasped, their faces pressed close to the glass.

"Alright! We’re going to have a big party!" David announced, his voice booming with excitement.

"You need to fix a few things in the company first," Xyriel reminded him, her tone sharp but affectionate. David sighed, clinging to her.

"Oh, baby... you’re the best."

I cringed at the sight of my brother being so clingy, all lovey-dovey.

"Let’s go see your mom," I told Sky, carrying him to Livana’s room. She was awake now, recovering, sipping chicken soup while my mother-in-law, Ines, gently fed her.

"Mama!" Sky scrambled down, crawling to her side, wrapping his little arms around her. Her hospital gown was damp, soaked with milk.

"Love, can you please get my pumps?" she asked softly.

I prepared the electric breast pump, steady and efficient. I helped her fit it, my hands protective, possessive. Sky tried to steal milk directly from her breasts, but I stopped him firmly.

"Come on, son. This is for the triplets."

He pouted, pointing at Livana. "Mik..."

"You’re big enough for that now, Sky," I sighed, shaking my head.

Laura entered then, ready to breastfeed one of the triplets. With her help, our babies would be safe, nourished, and strong.

*****

We stayed three days in the hospital before finally bringing the triplets home to the Blackwell mansion. Their arrival was marked by a grand homecoming party—three cribs prepared, gifts piled high, the same tradition every time a new child is born into this family. Laura had received the same celebration for her twins, courtesy of Alyssa’s meticulous planning.

The room brimmed with voices, laughter, and hovering relatives. But the noise unsettled Sierra. Her cry pierced through the chatter, sharp and fragile. Not even my parents could soothe her. I stepped forward, scooping her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her unmatched eyes—one amethyst, one like mine—stared up at me.

"Hey, baby girl," I whispered.

At the sound of my voice, she quieted instantly, cooing softly. She knew me. My heart melted, undone by her trust.

Livana reclined on the sofa, eating, her body fuller now after carrying triplets. Healthy, yes—but I knew she hated the weight. I would help her recover, as fast as she wanted.

Alyssa presented baby t-shirts embroidered with their names so no one would mix them up. Not that anyone could—Sierra’s eyes alone set her apart. The Carringtons arrived, my father-in-law among them, and even Tyrona with her son, Andro. She offered gifts for Livana’s recovery and for the triplets. I didn’t care much, as long as she behaved.

Andro, cleaned and dressed by the maid, washed his hands before carefully holding one of the babies.

I was happy. Overwhelmed. This was the vision I had carried since the day I met Livana—children who looked like her, a family built with her. I never imagined she would love me back. Not as much as I love her, but enough. Enough, because she never looked at another man the way she looks at me.

This is my life now. My happiness. No matter the dangers that lurk, I have her. I will never lose her again.

"Here’s the land for the triplets!" Grandpa Edward declared, raising a stack of papers. He had already arranged everything—the triplets now had assets, shares in each company we owned. Skyler had his own, being the firstborn, destined to manage them. Damien’s twins had theirs, and David’s child would soon join the legacy.

The family was joyous. United. Even with threats looming, we were happy.

"Is your brother Louie single?" Gina, Alyssa’s best friend, asked with a mischievous grin. Alyssa laughed, patting her arm.

"Sorry, but I think he is in a relationship. Don’t worry, I’ll hook you up with Chef Wally. He’s only ten years younger than you."

I shook my head, disapproving, but let it pass. Sierra had calmed, while Reagan and Raven rested in Sky’s and Andro’s arms, watched closely by my mother and mother-in-law.

I sat beside Livana, kissed her head, and inhaled the scent of her hair.

"Let’s agree on the same school," Tyrona suggested.

"Yup, sure," Livana shrugged.

"Well, well, are you two best friends now?" I scoffed. Tyrona scoffed back.

"Whatever, Damon." She stood, purse in hand. "I’ll leave my son here. I have to go."

I watched her say goodbye to Andro.

"What did you talk about?" I asked.

"She wants daycare and kindergarten. She wants Andro enrolled wherever the twins and Sky will be." Livana scooped Sierra from my arms. I helped her with the covers, tucking Sierra in as she latched onto her mother.

I wasn’t jealous. I couldn’t be. She was my baby girl.

"I love you," I murmured, kissing Livana’s lips. They tasted faintly of seafood soup.

"Yeah, whatever." She rolled her eyes. "This is the last time, Damon. My vagina is still swollen."

I laughed, pulling her into my arms.

"I fucking love you—and love fucking you."

She chuckled, nudging my ribs.

"By the way, fix the mess in Italy, will you?"

"I’m on paternity leave."

"You don’t get a break." Her amethyst eyes locked on mine, mesmerizing, commanding. "You’re the boss."

I wanted to roll my eyes—but she was right.