Three weeks later
The house was alive with noise — the kind of warm, chaotic energy that only came with two very excited almost-five-year-olds. The sound of their laughter echoed down the hallway as Elliott and Amelia chased each other, their footsteps thundering against the polished wood floors.
In the kitchen, the atmosphere was much… less playful.
“I want to throw them a party,” Sebastian said, his voice calm but unmistakably firm.
Isabelle looked up from her coffee, her brow arching as she took in the stack of papers he’d just set on the counter. “A party?”
“For their birthday.” He slid the stack toward her — glossy brochures for venues, caterer proposals, and what looked suspiciously like a pitch from an event planner. “Something big. Something they’ll remember.”
Isabelle’s eyes
