The Cross Mansion gleamed like money and quiet arguments. Aria returned home, dropped the designer bags onto the couch, and handed Grandma the things she’d bought.

“Here you go, Grandma. I got your favorite tea blend and those vitamin gummies you keep pretending are candy.”

Grandma chuckled, patting her cheek. “You spoil me, child.”

Aria smiled sweetly. “Someone has to, Grandma. Damian only spoils his laptop.”

Damian, seated on the couch, gave her that signature dangerous look  the one that said you’re walking on thin ice, woman.

Aria grinned wider. Perfect.

Later that evening, Aria decided to play housewife-of-the-year and made dinner herself. The smell of pasta carbonara drifted through...