Dinner at the Cross estate had a ritualistic comfort to it—always loud, always warm, and always slightly chaotic in the most endearing way. The dining room lights glowed soft gold across the long table, catching on crystal glasses and polished silverware. Outside the tall windows, the estate grounds stretched into evening shadows, peaceful and untouched.
Tonight felt different—charged with a quiet, shimmering excitement only two people at the table understood.
Mya and Trina sat beside each other, exchanging small, nervous glances as the brothers filled the room with noise. Alexander read through some emails between bites of steak. Casey reenacted a near brawl at the gym using only his fork and a dinner roll. Cameron kept taking overly dramatic photos of his meal “for artistic reasons.” A
