Leon found it amusing.

He let the leash go, allowing Coco to bolt across the estate's lawn while he held Lucien's hand, keeping their pace slow and steady.

The ease of the moment made Lucien sigh in relief. "This is nice. We feel like a real family of three."

Leon slowed his steps, looking at him with an unreadable gaze.

Lucien froze, realizing the implication. He quickly backtracked. "I meant the vibe! Not... not literally."

Leon's brow arched. "Are you hinting at something, baby?" He leaned in, his voice dropping an octave. "If you aren't pregnant yet, it's clearly because I'm not trying hard enough."

Lucien's face caught fire. He tried to act brave. "Maybe you're just... not that good at it."

Leon's eyes narrowed into lethal slits. "Say that again."

Lucien didn't have the guts. He bolted toward the puppy. "Coco! Wait for me!"

Leon seemed genuinely annoyed after the walk. He went straight to the shower and emerged without saying a word.

Lucien lay on the bed, feeling a twinge of guilt. Was the "incompetent" comment too much for a professional boxer's ego?

He pulled out his phone and logged into Twi for the first time in weeks. He opened the chat with

Saoirse

. He hesitated, then typed: Handsome, send a photo. I want to see what you've got.

He tossed the phone aside and buried his face in the duvet, his skin burning.

Leon walked back into the room minutes later. Lucien sat up, his eyes wide. He tried to act casual. "Um... I think your phone buzzed."

Leon picked up the device. He checked the notification and nearly laughed. He suppressed it, glancing at Lucien. The boy was stiff as a board.

"Who is it?" Lucien asked, playing innocent.

"An internet friend," Leon said flatly. He took the phone into the adjacent room.

Seconds later, Lucien's phone vibrated. Saoirse had sent an image. Lucien clicked it and nearly choked.

The photo was aggressive—a shot of a lethal, hard-carved physique that looked like it had been molded from steel. It was hot. Intimidatingly so.

Are you satisfied? Saoirse messaged.

Lucien's heart hammered against his ribs. He replied: Stronger than my husband's.

In the next room, Leon leaned back in his chair and let out a cold, dark chuckle.

Saoirse: . Lucien: ..? Saoirse: Your eggs? Cute.

Lucien nearly threw the phone. The pervert. He took a breath and sent the final bait. Hook up? My husband is useless. I want to try yours.

Saoirse: Come here.

There was a small lounge next to the master suite. It had a comfortable recliner and a projector. Lucien guessed Leon was in there.

His heart was racing. This felt like a trap he had set for himself. He nudged the door open and peeked inside.

Before he could even see the room, a hand clamped around his wrist. He was hauled inside. The door slammed with a definitive thud.

Leon pinned him against the wood. He was wearing loose sweatpants, the waistband sitting dangerously low.

Lucien stayed in character. "My husband's gone," he whispered. "I came to find you."

Leon let out a rough laugh. He grabbed Lucien's rear, squeezing hard. "You're a brave little thing, aren't you?"

Leon didn't take him to the bed. He flipped him around, pressing Lucien's chest flat against the cold door.

"The bed," Lucien gasped, shivering.

"High maintenance," Leon growled into his ear. "I'm not your husband. Why should I spoil you?"

He hoisted Lucien's legs up, trapping him. No one heard the muffled cries or the rhythmic shaking of the door.

The room was dim when the dust settled. Lucien lay on the recliner, his eyes red.

Leon had been relentless. He'd used the "New Year" excuse to forbid any tears, claiming crying brought bad luck. Lucien's legs were still trembling.

Leon brought a glass of warm water. Lucien recoiled when the man tried to help him up. "Don't touch me," Lucien rasped. "You're mean. I want my husband."

He tried to scramble off the chair but froze. Something warm trickled down his inner thigh.

Leon scooped him up. "Fine. I'm the husband again. I'm sorry."

Lucien buried his face in Leon's neck and bit his shoulder as hard as he could. Leon just laughed and promised three days of peace to stop the pouting.

Leon handled the cooking for New Year's Eve.

Lucien sat at the table, taking photos of the dumplings. One plate held Leon's perfect, uniform pleats. The other held Lucien's lopsided lumps.

Lucien pushed his plate forward. "Eat mine."

Leon finished every single one.

"Don't you have a diet to maintain?" Lucien asked.

"It's your first time cooking for me," Leon said. "The rules don't apply."

Lucien stood by his chair and raised his arms. Leon lifted him into a bridal carry.

"Sleepy?"

"Yeah. But we have to stay awake for the countdown."

"I'm taking you somewhere first."

Leon carried him to the walk-in closet and bundled him into a heavy coat and a beanie.

Coco followed them to the door, his tail wagging frantically. Leon looked down at the puppy. "Not you. Stay home. The two dads are going on a date."

Lucien's face went nuclear. "Leon! Don't say that!"

"You're the one who said 'family of three'," Leon reminded him, kissing his temple. "Since you aren't pregnant, Coco is the stand-in."

He tucked Lucien into the SUV and drove out into the falling snow.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."