Chapter 135
I’ve realized peace isn’t flashy. It isn’t loud. It isn’t declared. It’s the quiet mornings, the unbroken nights, and the safe home. It’s the laughter of your child, the hand of your spouse, and the memory of those you lost.
Xander
I catch Zia watching me sometimes, like she’s checking if I’m still… me. Still ruthless in business, yes. But at home? Present. Soft. Protective in a different way. Alexander comes first. Zia comes first. And then the rest of the empire follows, orderly and managed.
We aren’t perfect. But the stakes are lower now. The threats are more manageable. And Evan… Evan lives on in us. In Alexander. In the quiet strength of this family that’s survived so much.
Even grief doesn’t feel permanent anymore. It feels like… fuel. A reminder. A shadow that teaches us how much light is worth.
Zia
I walked through the house one night, Alexander asleep upstairs. Xander on the terrace, watching the city. I paused at the doorway, letting the calm settle over me. The house doesn’t feel like a fortress anymore. It feels like home. Real, messy, loud, soft, alive.
I thought about everything we’d survived. Corallie, Elise, betrayal, loss. And yet… we’re still here. Still holding each other. Still building a life. Still choosing each other.
And that’s enough. For now.
Weeks passed in this rhythm. The house was loud but safe. Alexander decided he wanted to play soccer, so we said okay, and Xander took him to soccer practice. I sat on the sidelines, watching, feeling the warmth in my chest that used to be replaced by tension.
We even started hosting small, casual dinners again. No security, just family. Angie, Lucas and Lila. The cousins just sat in a corner by themselves. Arthur taught Alexander how to play chess, though he clearly didn’t understand how little patience Alex had.
One evening, after dinner, Zia and I stayed behind to clean up. I leaned against the counter. “Do you ever think about… everything we went through?”
She nodded, putting a dish in the cabinet. “Every day. And I hate that we did. But I like that we survived.”
“Survived, yeah,” I said. “But I also think we… thrived. Weirdly. Against all odds.”
She smiled at me. “Against all odds, yeah.”
And it was true. Life wasn’t perfect. It never would be. But it was ours.
Xander
I started to notice something else, too. I wasn’t obsessing over threats, cameras, or betrayals. I was planning vacations, grocery lists, and birthday parties. I was thinking about Alexander’s school projects, whether Zia needed a massage, and whether Angie’s daughter liked the pancakes I made.
I laughed at myself sometimes. The ruthless CEO, now a domestic god. Life had a weird sense of humor.
And yet, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not a single second of peace now, not one laugh in the backyard, not one T-Rex attack before breakfast.
Zia
Months later, I was sitting at the kitchen island with coffee. Alexander was completing a paper, oblivious to the rest of the world. Xander was reading the papers, flipping pages lazily.
“Do you ever stop?” Alexander asked. “Reading?”
Xander smirked. “Some things are worth stopping for, bud.”
I smirked. “Yeah.”
He frowned. “Or… your alone time?” he said
“Obviously,” I said, and he smirked.
We all laughed. The house was loud, messy, and full of life. Full of love. Full of peace we didn’t know we could have.
And in that moment, I realized… that’s what victory really is. Not the empire. Not the power. Not the money. It’s this. Right here.
Xander
I looked at Zia, then at Alexander, then back at the city. The world could still try to throw chaos at us. There would still be business fires, small betrayals, and life’s usual
punches.
But it didn’t matter. Not like before. Not enough to break us. Because we weren’t just surviving anymore. We were living.
And that… that was enough.
Zia
The phone buzzed on the kitchen counter just as I was finishing my third cup of coffee don’t judge me, it was one of those mornings. I grabbed it, expecting some mundane reminder or maybe an email about Quantum. Instead, it was the school.
“Mrs. Thorne?” the secretary’s voice squeaked over the line.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. My brain instantly pinged with possibilities. Did Alexander forget his lunch? Spill paint on a classmate? Pull a prank already?
“Well, it’s Alexander…” She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure how to phrase this. “He may have… um… created a bit of a situation in class.”
I froze, my coffee halfway to my mouth. “A situation?” I asked, already regretting it.
“Yes,” she said. “Nothing dangerous. Just… loud. A little chaotic. He might have…” She paused again. “...sprayed the fire alarm accidentally?”
I choked on my coffee and coughed. “Excuse me?”
“He was trying to demonstrate a… science experiment,” she said, like that explained everything. “It involved a baking soda volcano and… um… some… fire extinguisher foam.”
I groaned so loud the cat jumped off the counter. “Of course. Of course he did.”
By the time I hung up, Alexander was walking into the kitchen with that idiotic grin on his face that resembles his father's. “You set off the fire alarm,” I said.
“I didn’t! It was a science experiment!” he said, but I saw the grin on his face. I could feel Xander appearing behind him in my peripheral vision, silently judging my parenting.
“Science, huh?” I said, “That’s a very… messy way to do science.”
Alexander shrugged. “They didn’t say messy was bad.”
That’s when Xander finally walked in, coffee in hand, tie loose, looking like he’d just survived a board meeting without throwing a chair. “What did he do now?”
I pointed to the cereal. “Volcano foam. Fire alarm. Chaos.”
Xander winced. “Of course he did.” He looked at him and ruffled his hair, which was a first.
“Why does it feel like he’s trying to set a record for most school incidents in one morning?” Xander asked.
We spent the next fifteen minutes calling the school, apologizing, and pretending to be calm while Alexander explained the “scientific reasoning” behind his chaos. Honestly? He sold it better than we could have.
Later, when the school finally agreed not to suspend him and promised only a “stern warning,” I slumped into the couch and let Xander take over the explanations to
Alexander.
Sixteen. That’s how old Alexander was now. Sixteen. Half a heartbeat away from becoming a man, but still my little boy in so many ways. The first time I realized he was actually growing up, really noticing girls, I almost choked on my coffee.
He came down the stairs that morning looking… different. Taller, wider shoulders, and that stupid confident grin that he totally got from Xander. His hair was messy like he’d rolled out of bed, but in the cool way, not the lazy kid way. And the way he carried himself yeah, my heart skipped. The kid was going to be a problem; my son is growing into a human who is clearly going to steal hearts.