PERSEFONE POV
After lunch, I expected some level of chaos.
Not because they were incapable.
Because they were them.
Three rogue Alphas with too much trauma, too much testosterone, and a collective emotional range that seemed to go from murder to devotion with very little warning in between.
But then they started tidying up.
And I just stood there for a second.
Because they moved like they had done it a thousand times.
Aiden took control of the table without announcing he was taking control of the table, which was how Aiden took control of most things. Plates stacked by size. Napkins gathered. Leftover food covered and set aside. The water pitcher moved to the least inconvenient corner with the quiet precision of a man who believed civilization began and ended with proper placement.
