Bella's POV
I watched as Vance moved through the house with practiced efficiency, his calm demeanor never wavering despite the chaos that had erupted earlier. The children had all been crying, terrified from their nightmares, and while I sat frozen in the living room clutching a glass of wine, he had stepped in without hesitation.
I observed him from my spot on the couch, noting how he didn't seem fazed by the responsibility. Each child had demanded to be carried on his shoulders, walked around until they felt safe enough to fall back asleep. He had obliged every single request without complaint.
When he finally emerged from the bedrooms, his appearance told the story of his evening. His coat hung abandoned somewhere, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, dark hair tousled from small hands running through it. Exhaustion marked his features, but there was satisfaction there too.
