–Livana–
After the panic room inspection, I sent my son to his room, Andro and the twins trailing after him like quiet satellites orbiting their own small world. Order, once again, restored.
I turned to Damon and pointed toward the carpet at the edge of the bed.
"Kneel."
My voice was cold—clean, precise, leaving no room for defiance.
"Don't stand until I say so."
"Baby…"
"Don't speak."
I didn't look back, but I didn't need to. I knew him well enough to feel it—the shift, the surrender. The moment his pride bent to my will.
I prepared for a bath as if nothing had happened.
"My love," he called softly.
I ignored him.
I stepped into the shower, letting the water cascade over me, warm and unhurried. I took my time—long enough for silence to settle into punishment. Long enough for his knees to ache.
When I stepped out, I wrapped my hair in a towel and slipped into my robe.
I passed him.
"Straighten your back."
A glance—sharp, commanding—and he obeyed instantly.
