Adrian’s question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken authority. Nia didn't blink.

The heavy leather sofa was pushed aside, and the library doors creaked open.

Adrian stood in the doorway. His suit jacket was gone, his white shirt was stained with soot and blood—none of it his own—and his hair was disheveled. He held his pistol at his side, his eyes scanning the room frantically until they landed on Nia and his sons sitting behind the marble pillar.

He dropped his gun onto a chair and walked toward them, his knees visibly shaking.

Before he could reach them, six-year-old Luke broke away from Nia and sprinted across the room, throwing his small arms around his father's legs. "Daddy!"

Adrian dropped to his knees, pulling Luke into a fierce, suffocating embrace. Caleb and Noah followed, throwing themselves into their father's arms.

Evan stood up slowly, looking at his father. Adrian reached out a broad arm and dragged Evan into the embrace as well, burying his face in his oldest son's hair.

For the first time in four years, Adrian Vale wept. Silent, heavy tears spilled from his eyes as he held all four of his sons against his chest.

Nia stood near the marble pillar, watching the scene with a soft, emotional smile. She started to quietly back toward the corner, wanting to give them privacy.

"Nia," Adrian’s voice called out through his tears.

She stopped.

Adrian looked up at her over the shoulders of his boys. His dark eyes were no longer cold, detached, or guarded. They were filled with an overwhelming, raw emotion that made Nia’s breath catch in her throat.

"Don't walk away," Adrian said softly.

He held out one broad hand to her.

Nia hesitated for a fraction of a second, then walked forward and placed her hand in his. Adrian’s fingers closed around hers with an intense, warm grip, anchoring her to his family.

"Is the house safe?" Nia asked gently.

"The intruders were eliminated or captured," Adrian said, standing up while still keeping his hand firmly wrapped around hers. "The police department is under my jurisdiction; they are handling the cleanup quietly. But this house... this house is compromised for the next few days."

"Where will we go?" Evan asked, looking up at his father.

"To the penthouse in Manhattan," Adrian replied. "It's a fortress. Nobody gets in or out without my personal security clearance." He looked at Nia. "Will you come with us?"

Evan, Caleb, Noah, and Luke all turned to look at Nia at the same time. The four boys who had driven away fourteen caregivers, who had thrown fire foam and sling-shot marbles, were now looking at her with desperate, pleading eyes.

"Please, Nia," Noah whispered, tugging on her coat sleeve. "Don't leave us."