A few months later:

"You want what?!" I ask her in shock, my eyes surely as wide as my mouth. My hands grip the corner of the kitchen island. My knuckles turn white. She's got to be kidding me!

"You heard me correctly. I want to take a break from research and try something new." My oldest daughter says to me.

"Something new means going to a dance class or finding a new pair of shoes but not the MI6!" I hiss at her, waving with my hands. "MI6 is not something you just choose to try out!"

"It's what I want." she's as stubborn as her father. "The past year has given me new perspectives."

"Don't blame this on the shit you've done in the past!" I yell and slam my fist against the marble countertop of the kitchen island. "Your meditation and yoga rituals, art therapy and music therapy... they couldn't have... Della, you're a freaking surgeon!"

"I haven't been a surgeon in the last months, Mom. I haven't held a scalpel in my hands, cut into a body, fixed a biological problem... all I did was stare into petri dishes, look into microscopes... this is no life for me."

"In a month you can start working again."

"No fucking hospital will want to work with a drug addict." She counters, crossing her arms. "My arrest made headlines, even without a statement the world thinks I'm a drug addict. The medical world is so deeply disappointed in me, that-"

"Then make them fucking see how incredible you are! No one has ever done what you did! No one has accomplished what you did by the age of twenty one! You don't fucking give up just because going is getting tough-"

"I am not giving up! I am changing the directions."

I shake my head, "You won't do that. I won't let you-"

"I am grown-up. I am not asking for your permission. I am informing you about my decision. That I already made."

"Oh no, young lady, you are still my child and I will not let you get into danger just so you can have that thrill you need!"

"A thrill?" she asks me back in shock. "Oh no, Mom, this is not just a thrill that I am seeking."

"Then call it fucking adrenaline!" I hiss at her.

She shakes her head in disbelief, "You don't know what it's like!" she yells back at me, "You don't know what it's like to be anywhere near me!"

I close my eyes, "Don't start again-"

"My brain is constantly thinking! Constantly! Like now when I am trying to put my emotions into words, my brain is calculating the liquids in your body, separating between blood, water and sweat. With that data, I know exactly that you should drink 2,78 litres a day, but given your skin I think you only had about 1,5 litres, maybe a bit more!" she explains her situation to me once again, "I am not normal! Why do you think I participated at all of those illegal car racings, stealing Dad's white Ferrari he loves so much! I did it because for those 56-78 seconds my brain was silent! Silent! Do you know how good that felt? How good it feels to think nothing and just feel your body?"

I gulp, I really don't know what it's like to be her.

"And I don't think surgery - even cardiology or neuro or plastic - will give me this feeling. This adrenaline that shuts my brain off."

"And you think MI6 will? Putting yourself into danger over and over again, going undercover, having double or triple lives? Never seeing your family? You really think this will help you, Sweetie?" I ask her, tilting my head to the side.

"Yes." she seems determined.

I close my eyes, not believing what's coming next out of my mouth. "Then you should talk to your father. Right now."

"But he's working in his study."

I open my eyes, pointing down the hallway behind her. "Go inside. Tell him you want to work for MI6. Tell him I sent you."

She frowns, "You want me to fight with him as well?"

"There are a lot of rings you have to hop through before doing this." I say with a shrug, "He'll tell you something you don't know about him yet."

"You want him to talk me out of this." she points out. "He won't talk me out of this."

I shake my head, "I don't want you to do this and neither will your father. But he will make you understand everything you have to give up for this job and how little you may or may not receive from it. Before applying please have a chat with Krimov and the other's from his firm. They are all former FBI, CIA, NSA and MI6 agents. They all had a reason to quit. Hear them out. Hear all of us out before applying to MI6."

"I already applied."

I feel my mouth dropping to the floor, "You really are your father's daughter." I breathe out shocked. Only he would drop such a bomb as well.

"Mom, can we start playing who am I now?" Nate asks me, ripping me out of my thoughts. When did he get here?

I look down, seeing my twelve year old son, "Yes." I say with a smile on my lips.

"Rory and Jo are already waiting for you as well."

I brush through his dark blonde hair before turning around, "See your father."

Adaline holds her hands up, giving in. "Fine!"

I watch her rushing out of the kitchen before following my son into the living room. "Have you guys written down the characters yet?"

"Yes." Jo says, laying down the pen.

"Good, who starts?" I sit down on couch.

Nate starts mixing the slips of paper. "We are doing animals this time."

"I want to start!" Jo says smiling.

Suddenly, we hear a loud thud noise and wince all at the same time. It came out of Troy's study. "I'll be right back."

"But, Mom!" Nate starts complaining.

"You guys start, I'll be right back." I say before rushing away from them. I hear something shattering as I reach the dark wooden door of his study. I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders before opening the door. Yet I feel shocked at what I see.

The huge mahogany desk has been thrown to the floor. A lamp has been shattered as it landed right next to the closed doors. Right next to me.

"You will not become a MI6 Agent!" His furious voice yells at our daughter. I am surprised that she's standing across him as confidently as she was towards me. She doesn't wince. She only listens.

"A medical career is not enough!" She argues.

"Not enough?!" He barks at her, "People all over the world would kill to do what you do, they would-"

"I am not like everyone else. You know it and I know it, too."

"You don't know what it's like! You don't know what it's like to-"

"Oh and you do?!"

"Yes! As a matter of fact, I do Adaline!" He yells at her out of the sudden.

"Troy!" I start arguing, finding my manners again.

"What do you mean?" Adaline asks. They didn't seem to hear me.

He brushes through his hair, his dark blue orbs focusing his daughter's. "I was an NSA agent."

"You were an NSA agent? For how long?" Her fingers wrap around the backside of the armchair.

"Five years."

"Five years?" She sounds shocked.

I walk over to the pool table and lean against it, watching them.

"I don't believe you."

I gulp at her answer. She sounds so sure. So stubborn. She sounds just like me.

"You don't believe me?!" He asks back in shock before turning around. I watch him typing in a code into the safe before getting out folders. "Then read those." He throws them at his daughter, who catches them with ease.

"What's in those?" She frowns at him.

"The reason why I became an agent, the time I was an agent, the damage I caused and the after effects." His blue eyes see me for the first time, "Did you knew about this?!"

"Yes."

"How the hell could you-"

"I just found out. I sent her to you. I wanted you to tell her the truth."

"The truth?!" He fakes a laugh, shaking his head. His blue orbs focus our daughter, "You want the truth?! Read that."

Immediately she opens the first folder, her eyes already scanning through the pages. I decide to take this moment of silence to walk over to them carefully so I don't shatter too much of the glass that's on the floor. I watch Troy lifting the mahogany table with ease, but he doesn't bend down to pick up the papers.

"What you see right here… you will never have a family if you pursue in that kind of career." His voice sounds much more soft.

Adaline closes the first folder, before opening the second one. "I am not sure if I want a family to be honest."

He shakes his head in disbelief before looking at me for the second time. "She's just like me."

I suppress my laughter and nod instead, "But paired with my stubbornness."

"Just because I am reading, doesn't mean I can't hear you."

"Good. Because you should."

She closes the second folder, "Still nothing that will change my mind." She opens the third one. "I have seen dead bodies, knowing you killed those men won't change what I am seeing." She immediately closes the folder before opening the fourth. I watch her expression filling with horror before her hands start to shake.

"What's in that folder?" I ask Troy with concern in my voice. Maybe this will change her mind. It looks like it.

Her navy orbs fill with tears, making me seriously worry. Suddenly she falls back into the chair behind her. Her lips start shaking. Her whole expression changes as she lets down her walls. Whatever's in this folder is hurting her. Deeply.

"Troy," my whisper has warning tone.

"My ace."

His ace?! What does he mean by that? What's his ace? What is Della looking at? I gulp as I understand. A shiver runs down my spine, but I refuse to remember anything from that time. It's in the past. I survived. Barely, but I survived. Troy told me there were no evidence left of Brazil, but he must have lied because apparently there is. Our daughter is holding all the evidence.

"How long did they have you?" She tries to sound neutral. She's still so stubborn.

"Three days."

She looks up at her father, "Why didn't you save her earlier?! You should have been with her in Miami. You should have been by her side when she made that statement. Where the hell were you and why didn't you fucking do everything you could to find her sooner?!" She yells at him with tears in her eyes.

I can't believe she's blaming him! "Della," I start.

"I was here. In this house. With you. Where I should have been."

"She was in fucking Brazil!" She argues.

"I decided to go alone. I had Krimov with me, though."

"And you let her go?!"

"I was with Krimov. I told you."

"Who didn't do his fucking job!" She yells now at me. She's furious. "I can't believe you didn't fire him!" She looks at Troy.

"Trust me I had spent a lot of thoughts on it."

She shakes her head, "You have grown soft then."

I hold my breath. She hasn't seen his past self and she calls him soft now. She has no idea what she's talking about.

"Della, we decided it that way. None of us could have known that this would happen. There was no way we could have figured it out."

"No there was." She says to me before looking at her father, "You were just too fucking blind to see it."

I watch his chin stiffens and I know he's clenching his teeth. His lips form a thin line and his hands from fists. She hit a nerve. She tore wounds open that I thought had healed. But they didn't. They never will. He looks at me, his eyes so black that I gulp. He's going to explode if she doesn't stop pushing him. "Get her out or I will rip her head off." He mumbles under his breath and through his teeth into my ear.

"Della, come on let's go." I take her arm to lead her out, fearing the worst. I don't want him to explode. I am not sure what's going to happen then because they both never exploded at the same time. It's like a hurricane of the category 5 crashing against a volcano eruption.

"No." She says, freeing her arm out of my grip with ease. Her blue eyes have darken as she looks at him, "Just because you sucked at being an agent doesn't mean I will." She provokes him. She always did.

I feel a shiver going down my spine as I watch them glare at each other in pure rage. I hold my breath unsure of his response. I don't dare to interfere. She won't listen to me anyway. She's mad at him. No, she's furious with him.

Like he has been with himself ever since it happened.

But he doesn't react. He keeps staring at her, his eyes black, his lips in that same thin line, his teeth clenched and his hands forming fists. He doesn't move. For a moment I don't think he's breathing.

"Say something!" She demands after a full minute of staring.

I have never felt more unease and anticipation.

"You're going to get killed if you do this job." He breathes out, much calmer than I expected him to.

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will. Because you don't have any self control. Any!" He shakes his head, "You are just like your mother. Impulsive, stubborn, brilliant and too beautiful for your own good. Being an agent is not a job. It's a life you choose. A life apart from your family, knowing that you won't see them and they won't see you. Ever! There will be no birthday parties, no Christmas, no New Year's Eve, no cuddles with your mother, no tickles from your brother and sisters, no hugs from your grandma, no kisses from your parents - nothing. You will be alone."

"I am fine alone." She snorts.

"There will be no love in your life. You can't have a family. You won't settle down. You might think you are able to do this right now, but trust me when I say you are not. That life was not meant for you."

"This life isn't either." She argues back, crossing her arms above her chest.

"You are twenty one years old. You have the whole world to see, a whole life to experience. A career to pursue that makes you happy and not anxious about what's going to happen the next second. You have a life ahead of you and I will not allow you to waste it because you chase adrenaline." His voice has become softer, but his features didn't. "Go swim with sharks, go bungee jumping, go on a trail hike through whole U.K. or get into my car and participate in one of those illegal car races like you used to. But don't do this. You will not apply to MI6."

She licks her lips. "I already did." She breathes out.

Troy closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated yell that shakes deep in my bones. "Fucking God, Adaline Elizabeth Grace Bolton!"

She starts shifted her weight from one leg to another, showing for the first time something like unease. "I am doing this. If they accept me, then I will do this."

"No you will not!" His yell is deep, frustrated and full of rage. "I tried it the soft way, but you don't get it, do you?!" He yells again.

"It's you who doesn't get it! I need this!"

"Why?! To find yourself? To prove some shit to yourself?!"

"To shut my fucking brain off for a second, god damn it!" She yells back at him, brushing through her hair.

He frowns, probably understanding that this issue is much more serious than he thought.

"I don't think the way you do. I need adrenaline to keep me calm. I need to feel that rush as often as possible for me to stay sane." She explains with a sigh, "I know you won't understand, which is why I didn't want to mention it until I got in in the first place."

I place my hand on her shoulder, "Adaline,"

She moves away, "No! You don't get it either and you never will! Because quite frankly you are not smart enough. An IQ of 156 is just not smart enough, Dad. But I am doing this whether you like it or not!"

"Hell no!"

"You either accept my decision or not. But I am not backing down. Freeze my bank account, throw me out on the streets - I don't care. I'd rather turn my back on my family than end up in a clinic with pills that cloud my mind."

I feel a stitch in my heart, deeply hurt because she considered we would do that. We never would. Not in a million years. "Honey, we would never do this."

"Go!" Troy gestures towards the door, "You might as well leave now."

What?! I grab her wrist and stand between them, "No!" I can't believe he is turning his back on her! His own flesh and blood! Our daughter! How fucking dare he! I feel a kind of anger building inside of me like never before! How fucking dare he! My right hand forms a fist while my left is aiming to slap him - but I restrain myself. For Adaline's sake.

"Why not? She thinks she's smart enough for the world out there." He looks over my shoulder and into her eyes, "You don't know what it's like but you are desperate to find out, aren't you?"

She gulps behind me. "I have an IQ of 190. I'll figure things out."

"Good, then we are clear." He nods at her and she turns around.

I pull on her wrist, "No we are not clear." I say to my husband before turning around, "You will not leave this house. We will not kick you out or freeze your bank account. Honey, we love you."

She licks her lips, "Love me enough to accept my decision." She looks over my shoulder, straight into her father's eyes.

He remains silent.

Her bright blue orbs focus me and I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, "Mom?"

I bite my lip, trying to suppress the tears. "Don't do this." I might as well use his ace as mine. "Please. You've seen what they did to me. What they could do to you."

She shakes his head, being the most stubborn human on earth. "That medical record… you were at the edge of dying." But even that won't changer her mind.

I pull her into a hug, "You'd be surprised how many times your parents escaped death. We did this for you. All for you." I brush through her chestnut brown hair, "So, don't be stupid and make the same mistake as your father did. Just because you need a little more adrenaline in your life. Find something else. At least test other options. Please."

She remains silent before clenching her teeth but for the first time she nods, "Okay. I'll think about it."

"Okay?" Troy sounds shocked.

She looks away from me and up to him, "I won't repeat myself."

I try to suppress a chuckle, but fail. She's so much like her father.

So much that she even wanted to have the same career.

"Did you knew about this?" I ask my other twenty one year old daughter over the phone. As always, we're facetiming when everyone, except for Troy, is already asleep. I am curled up in a blanket on the sofa with a lit fireplace being the only soundtrack to my breathing. Troy's working in his study, having some business to take care off with the Australian blue chip clients.

She frowns at my question, her bright green eyes shine through the dimmed lights in her living room. I hate that she only comes home twice for the weekend, but I also understand that she needs her independency back in Oxford. She's working her butt off, taking as many classes as possible to suck up as much knowledge as possible. More times than not, I worry about it being too much. But it's what she wants. She already has her degree from Oxford Med School, but that doesn't seem enough. Over the years she not only added a Bachelor in economics and a master in politics to that, but also a bachelor in arts. She's still painting as I see a clean canvas behind her next to the French windows in her flat. Her artwork is something a lot of people admire and praise her for. She only had a handful of Vernissages, but those were enough to impress. Especially at her age. Twenty one and brighter and more talented than ever.

Adaline doesn't understand her sister's passion about knowledge. She just wants to fix people. Whether it's the heart, the brain or nerves, or something as simple as a boob-job, she wanted to do it all. And she's a specialist in all three of them. She knew what she wanted ever since Prof. Bell started giving her lectures when she was just seven years old. Fourteen years later and she has blossom into a medical superstar. But just like us, she hates the attention. She just loves to work, whether that's making her the best in her field doesn't really bother her. She just loves what she does.

"Knew what?" Ana asks, her manicured fingers wrapped around a mug of lemon ginger tea.

"The MI6 thing."

She leans back on the couch, "No. She didn't discuss it with me. Must have pulled it off by herself. She wants to be an agent?"

I can tell when Ana is lying, because she only has done it a handful of times in her young life - and she definitely isn't lying now. "She applied without telling us. Dropped them bomb today after lunch."

"How did Dad take it?"

I brush through my dark brown curls, "You wouldn't even believe me if I told you."

"I hope he changed her mind. She's no agent. She cuts people open. She saves lives." She sounds just like her father.

"I think we managed to hammer some sense into her brain."

"Well, she didn't tell me which makes me worry. She either did it because she knew I'd give you a warning because we both know I can't lie, or she really wants to do this and doesn't give a damn about my opinion. Which scares me even more."

"No, she's definitely not going to do this."

"You sure?"

I let out a sigh, "Why can't she just enjoy her job? Why does she always have to chase something more, something more thrilling?!" Something to give me another god damn heart attack.

"Mom," Ana breathes out, shifting her weight on the couch. "I may be as profoundly gifted as her, but that doesn't mean you can compare us. There's a separation of four points in our IQ, but that doesn't mean we're alike. In fact, we're not that much alike at all. I love knowledge, I suck it up like the air I'm breathing. I could see myself staying at Oxford for another five years with ease if it weren't for Jake, but she... she is made of different wood. She's all about symmetries, all about the right proportions, all about healing people. She loves getting her hands dirty. She loves being elbow deep inside a human's body. She loves researching diseases, trying to cure what no one was able to do before her. She loves her job." Ana licks her lips.

"Then what's with the car races, huh? What's with that shit?" I can't help with my cursing.

Ana shrugs, "Adrenaline? It's like Russian Roulette, only with cars. She never knows who's going to win in the beginning."

"Did she ever lose?" In the back of my mind I start counting the expensive cars in our garage. I don't think I ever missed one.

Ana shrugs, "A few times. But that wasn't a big of a deal. She asked for revenge, placed a better offer on the table and took it home with a big fat grin on her lips."

"Have you ever been with her on one of those?"

Ana licks her lips, "A few years back. Just once. I didn't like it, but she..." Ana sighs and shakes her head.

"She what?"

"She was on fire, Mom. I've never seen her like this before. She was full of excitement."

"You talked to her about this?"

"Sure. But she doesn't listen to me." True, she stopped as soon as they got their degree in med school and Ana decided to stay at Oxford while Della started her internship at a hospital.

"Your sister is driving me nuts sometimes!" I let out a frustrated growl.

"She'll calm down."

"I'm not so sure about that..." I stare into the fireplace for a moment before looking back to the phone. "Promise me you will never apply to MI6."

She chuckles, "Shoot with guns? No, that's not my style."

Suddenly, I hear the door unlocking and I see Jake appearing behind her. He is dressed in a navy suit with a black tie. He might be living in a multi million pound flat in Southwark with a view over the Thames, but he prefers to be in my daughter's flat in Oxford instead. Because London and Oxford are not a two hour drive away from one another. Clearly, they are spending their weekend together. "Alright, I don't want to keep you from Jake. Tell him I said hi."

Ana twists around, seeing Jake walking over to her. The smile on her face is priceless. She looks so in love with him. "My Mom says hi."

Jake frowns before looking in front of himself, straight into the camera. "Oh, hi!" He grins as he sees me through the camera. "How are you?"

I smile back at him, "Recovering from my heart attack."

Jake stares at confused at Ana. "What does she mean?" He asks Ana as he sits down next to her. He doesn't hesitate before grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles. Troy has told me that Jake voiced his feelings for our daughter very clearly, but it's so nice to see this as well.

"I'll tell you about it later." She says to him with a soft smile on her lips.

"Okay." He kisses her knuckles again. They are just like Troy and me.

"Are you spending the weekend with her?" I ask Jake bluntly.

He looks back at me, "Yes."

"Good."

"Good?" Ana asks me confused.

"Yes. Because now I know you're safe and my heart ache can fully focus on your bigger sister." I answer truthfully.

"Mom," Ana smiles softly at me.

I see Troy walking out of his study. He's finally done for the night. "I'll talk to you later. Have a good night."

"You, too." She whispers before ending the call.

I unwrap myself from the blanket, get off the couch and grab both wine glasses by the stems before walking over to him. I've been waiting for him to get out of the study for way too long.

"All good?" I ask, handing him one of the red wine glasses.

He nods before taking a sip of the wine. "Merlot?"

"From 1945." I nod before taking a sip myself. "It's good."

"It is." He agrees with me. "How's Ana?"

"With Jake." I say with a small smile on my lips. "He's spending the weekend with her."

"I know." He walks back to our couch.

"You know? Do you still have her being followed?" I place my hand on my hip.

He turns around. "No. In fact, I called Krimov's guys off."

"You did?" I ask as I walk over to him.

"Yes."

Wow, he must trust Jake a lot. I mean, Jake earned our trust. He took care of Brad a few months ago and I haven't seen or heard from him. "Then how do you know?"

"Because," He takes the glass out of my hand before placing it back on the coffee table. "Jake told me he is going to guard her with his life. And I know his life is worth a lot as he is a former Navy SEAL."

I frown. That wasn't in his file. "He is? That wasn't in his file."

"There were a few gap years in his CV, so I asked Krimov to find out what he was doing back then."

"And how come I don't know about it?"

"I got a call when I was setting up the table with Nate at our first meeting. Krimov told me and I asked Jake about it before dessert. After that things got kind of crazy around here and I guess I forgot to mention it towards you."

"What did he say?"

He wraps his arms around my waistline, "That being a Navy SEAL wasn't what he wanted for life. He wanted to work as a lawyer instead."

"And you believe him?"

He nods, "I do. He said he loved our daughter more than anything, said she was his universe, the stars and his moon."

"He really is going to put a ring on that finger." I breathe out surprised. I mean, I knew it and I guessed it but... it's still a surprise. Somehow.

"He is." Troy cups my face, staring deeply into my eyes. "But not any time soon. She's not ready and he knows that. He sees that, he sees every shade of hers - and he loves her. Truly loves her." His fingers fondle my cheeks. "He can keep her safe and he is guarding her with his life - that's all I need to know to call back Krimov's men."

"You trust him."

"I do. Real men stand up to their feelings, they protect their women no matter what, they don't back down from a fight... they stand up. And Jake is a real man, my angel. He is the only man that is worth of having our daughter's heart."

I giggle like a teenager as I walk downstairs to the kitchen. My husband's wearing ripped jeans and a black shirt. He looks sexy as hell, but also not quite like himself. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"The annual firearms training." I hear my daughter answering my question.

I turn around and see her dressed in a jeans and a black shirt as well. But she's wearing a baseball cap to hide her chestnut coloured curls. "Okay. Do I have to go as well?" I ask my husband as I've already done the training this year with Wladimir.

"If I have to go there then you have to as well." Della insists. "I don't take this day off every year so I get to go there alone with just Daddy and Krimov."

"That's one thing you've got right. But Krimov won't be there today."

"Why's that?"

"You'll see."

I sigh before pouring coffee into my coffee mug. "I need fifteen minutes." I say before taking a sip.

"I had five to get ready."

I look at my daughter, "Well, I am not you." I stick out my tongue before turning around. "I'll go get dressed. Pour the coffee into a travel mug. I'll drink it on the way there."

Troy nods before looking at me. "See? That's what I call thinking outside the box. She's saving time while you wanted to buy more time from me."

Della growls and rolls her eyes at her father. "You are so unfair!"

I chuckle before walking back to the first floor.

I take a sip of the hot coffee as I stare at the meadows we have driven to. It's a private property for firearms training. Lots of guns are firing around me. Rifles, pistols and shotguns. I'm wearing ear warmers over my ear plugs but I still hear it clearly. I hate the sound. I hate that I have to be here twice a year. Once for my training and once for the training of our daughters. Ana just got lucky this year. Since she's about to graduate from Oxford law school, she has a free pass - that she uses for everything. It's a chilly spring morning as I can see my breath in front of me.

"Pick up the left revolver." Troy says to Della. There are two revolvers laying in front of her on the desk. A bunch of empty cans and glass bottles are standing about twenty meters away from us. Another thirty meters away from us are paper targets which embody humans. Della already shot there, hitting the bull's eye each time. She's doing really well.

Della sighs, "I know how to shoot, Dad. We've been doing this since three years now." She picks up the gun and aims it at one of the cans.

Suddenly, Troy steps into the line of fire. "Shoot." He demands. He's wearing a black protection vest but that doesn't make it any less daring.

"What?!"

I choke on my coffee. "What?!" I echo my daughter's words.

"I won't shoot at you!" Della's hand starts shaking immediately. She's close to having a nervous breakdown.

His dark blue eyes look at the shaking gun, "And this is exactly why you are incapable of being a MI6 agent."

My pulse is humming in my ears. He can't be serious!

"Pull the trigger, Adaline." he pushes her. Is he insane?! He has to be, because he takes a few steps forward until the gun is pressing into his chest.

"No!" she cries out, by now her whole body is shaking. She puts down the gun.

"You don't have what it takes to be an agent, Adaline." he hisses at her before taking the gun out of her hands. Without looking behind himself, he stretches out his right arm and shoots all five cans and three glass bottles. "Take that application back."

Her lower lip is shaking and I pull her into my arms. "I can't." she whimpers.

"You will not accept the job when it's offered." he hisses at her before throwing the gun into my hands. I catch it with my left hand. The thing is unloaded now anyways.

"When?" Adaline asks, looking up into her father's eyes.

His eyes are a dark blue that scares even me. "You're a Bolton, you'll get in."

A smile appears on Della's lips.

"But you will turn it down." he reminds her. "You will turn it down."

She nods, "Yes, I will turn it down."

"You are a doctor not a fucking MI6 agent!" he says to her. "Your job is to save lives not take them!"

She nods again, agreeing in silence.

"Good." he says before looking at me, "Your turn."

I shake my head, "No, I won't shoot at you either." He might be wearing a protection vest, but hell no!

He looks at our daughter who has calmed down a little in my embrace. "Your mother knows her limits. Unlike you."

"There's difference between not wanting to shoot and being unable to shoot." Della hisses back at him.

I watch Troy clenching his teeth before taking a step to the right side. I know immediately what he wants me to do. What he wants me to prove. I hate this thing. I hate any weapon that can cause pain. I pick up the other gun. He nods at me, signalising me to shoot. I take a deep breath and pull the trigger. With each draw from the holster, I shoot exactly where I want to. I stop at the last glass bottle, shattering it with just a single bullet. I hate this thing, but I am excellent with it.

I place the gun on the desk in front of me. My back is drenched in sweat. I absolutely hate the days he makes us do this. But knowing his reasons, I do it anyway.

"Mom, I had no idea you were so good!" Della's eyes are wide open.

"I've had more practice with him than you." I explain. We started when Della was eight months old and practiced monthly until she was five.

"But, can you do it blindly like Dad?" She is amazed by my skills.

I shrug, "I don't know and I am not eager to find out."

"But maybe you're as good as Dad!"

"Della, don't push me. I don't like guns or knives or any weapon really. I am really different from your father in this aspect. I've only agreed to doing these kind of trainings because of his former job. I understand that it's important for me to be able to protect myself and you guys in case anything like in the past happens again. I know that the possibility exist, trust me I know."

She sighs, "But this is so cool!" She sounds like every twenty one year old in her age would. Sometimes I can't believe there's a genius in this body. But then I remember her work at the hospital and I am amazed. Amazed by the precision and the skills she has. She's the youngest surgeon U.K. ever had. She's amazing by all means.

"No, it's not." I remind her. "Adaline, I know what it's like when you have a fucking bullet in your body. I know what excoriating pain you feel. I know how a knife that cuts into your flesh feels like." I say into her face, "And I will do anything in my power to keep you from having the same experience. Anything!"

She gulps at my words, "Okay."

"Okay." I say to her before looking at Troy. "You and me need to have a conversation." My husband's wearing his poker face but I can see in his eyes that he's not eager to have this conversation with me. "Della, get back into the car. We'll be right there."

"I am not seven anymore. I can know what you guys are talking about, you know. Plus, it's not like Nate doesn't always eavesdrop on you guys anyway." she rolls with her eyes. "You think you can hide everything from us, but that's not the case."

"Della!" Troy hisses at her.

"Fine!" she says, holding up her hands. "But if you guys aren't there in five minutes then I will drive home by myself."

"Don't you even dare to think of it!" he barks at her.

She winces, "Chill. I might use another car then." she turns around and chuckles before walking away.

"She's unbelievable!" he says to me.

"I don't want to talk about that right now." I hiss at him, causing him to gulp. "What the fuck where you thinking?! In fact, I don't think you were thinking at all because there's not one reason which would justify you demanding to get killed by our daughter!" I yell at him so loudly that the gunshots around us seem like a whisper.

"I wanted to show her her limits." he answers in a calm voice.

I fake a laugh, "Her limits?! Are you nuts?! No, no don't answer, I know you are!" I brush through my hair, "Fuck, Troy! You fucking scared the shit out of us!"

"That was my point."

Suddenly my hand clashes against his face. His head moves with the momentum, my left palm burns with the rage that's boiling inside of me. "You don't ask to be shoot at, Troy!" I hiss at him, "You have a scar that's reminding you of what it feels like. You don't demand to be killed!" I hit against his chest. "Do you understand me?! You will never ask to get killed!" He stumbles from another of my hits. I know it's rather from my words than the strength I have in my arms. I may be able to take down Wladimir when he's not paying enough attention, but certainly not my husband. "Do you even have the slightest idea how fucking scared I was?! Have you thought about me? About your other four children? Our family?! Have you thought about anyone but your fucking ego?!"

"I knew she wouldn't shoot at me."

"For Christ's sake, Troy!" I growl at his stubbornness. "But what if she did?! That fucking gun was loaded! Loaded, Troy! What if she chose to shoot at you to prove a point?! She's your daughter after all. Boltons always prove their points."

"She is as much my daughter as she's your's."

"Yeah, that makes it even riskier!" I say, waving with my hands. "Because my family tends to go through the wall with the head first!"

He chuckles at my words.

"I wasn't joking, Troy." I hiss at him. "You will never pull such a thing again or I swear we will all stop with that stupid firearms training."

He sighs, "Look-"

"Say it." I urge him.

"I will never do it again." he promises me.

"Good." I say before holding out my hand to him. He frowns at my palm. "Keys. I'm driving home."

"We're not driving home."

"What's the next stop?"

"We'll meet Krimov's team at the boxing studio we train at."

I frown at his words, "You're not training in a boxing studio with Krimov's team."

His lips form a thin line, "True. We train there for something else."

"For what?"

"You'll see."

I stop the Tesla in front of an old factory building a few miles outside of London. "Are you sure this is the correct address?" I ask Troy. This doesn't look like a boxing studio or a gym.

"Yes." he says before getting out of the car. This doesn't look like a boxing studio at all.

"What are we doing here?" Della asks as Troy opens the trunk of the car.

"We're here to train." I get out of the car as well as Della before walking over to Troy. He gets out a gym bag before shutting the trunk. I lock the car and we walk to the entrance of the factory building.

"What will we train here?" Della asks her father.

Troy opens the door without a word and my ears get hit my rap and R'n'B music. Strong beats clash against my eardrums along with heavy weights falling down on the floor. I walk in behind my husband and see two boxing rings in the middle of the room. There are guys who do weight training here, the kind of weights I am afraid to look at. I don't see a single woman in here, just bulky, bulky men... and men that want to become bulky. There are guys boxing against a punching bag. Some guys have noticed us and stare at my daughter and me. But once they notice Troy, they look away. Everything is minimalistic, only the most needed items are here.

"You guys should change." Troy says and hands me the gym bag.

"You packed our clothes?" Della asks confused.

"I packed your mother's clothes but since you like to steal them, I packed clothes for you as well." he narrows his eyes at her.

Della gulps.

"Where are the changing rooms?" I ask as I look around. It doesn't look like there are any lockers or rooms here at all.

"Over there." he points to the left where a door is. There really is a changing room. "There's a full bathroom. Change in there."

I nod before dragging Della with me. "Why is Daddy doing this to us?" she asks me with a growl.

I ignore the staring glances until we've reached the door to the bathroom. I open the door and step into the tiny room with a shower, a loo and a sink. "Look, I don't know what's going on inside his head all the time as well."

"You've been married to this man for over twenty years now. You should know." she points out as I open the gym bag.

I reach into it and get out a shirt, a sports bra and a pair of leggings. "Put this on."

My daughter rolls my eyes at me as she gets changed.

I sigh as I change into a black leggings and a grey shirt as well. We match, expect for the sports bra. Mine is pink and Della's blue, but that doesn't matter because no one is going to see them through the shirt. We get into our trainers and put the other clothes into the gym bag.

"This place is disgusting."

"You're one to talk to." I narrow my eyes at her as she opens the bath room door.

"What do you mean?"

"You like to be elbow deep inside a patient. Some people call OR rooms disgusting."

She rolls her navy orbs at me, "That's not the same. It's my job, but this... this is not."

"If you really wanted to be an MI6 agent, then this would have been the norm."

"You're kidding!" Della breathes out as we walk back to Troy, who is surrounded by a group of men.

"No. Luxury is something you grew up with because your parents work their asses off. Don't take it for granted and certainly don't expect to find it everywhere else in the world."

She pouts, "I know that!"

"No, you clearly don't." I hiss at her as we reach my husband. "We're ready." I say, placing my hand on his back.

"Good." he says, looking at us for a second before his glance moves forward. "Collin, Jasper, Leo and Simon, these are my wife Gabriella and my daughter Adaline." Troy introduces us, "You will train them today."

"Them?" Leo asks confused.

"Yes. The same way as you train with me."

All four men look at each other confused, sharing words with only their eyes.

"But, sir, with all respect we can't train with them like we do with you." Collin starts.

Simon nods in agreement, "We'll only hurt them."

"My daughter maybe, but definitely not my wife." Troy smirks at them.

All four men stare at me for a moment. "I don't think so." Jasper says, looking at Troy again.

I frown, are they really thinking I can't take them down? I've been training with Wladimir for over twenty years now, I will take them down before they can blink!

"I want Collin and Jasper to train with my wife, Leo and Simon for Adaline."

"Cool, you guys are cuter anyway." Della says with a grin.

I roll my eyes at her statement. Sometimes, she sounds more like a twenty one year old than an attending at St. Mary's.

"Della wants to become an MI6 agent."

Jasper narrows his dark green eyes at her, "You, really?!"

Della shoots a glance at him so dark that he gulps. "Let's get this thing started!"

I pull onto Collin's arm, sitting on his back. He taps against the floor three times with his left foot and I let go. Sweat starts dripping down my body the moment I lift myself from the floor. I am out of breath. So out of breath! Jasper is recovering, sitting on the floor at the corner of the boxing ring. They were so confident, so arrogant to think they could take me down. I just had to prove them wrong.

"Did I promise you too much?" Troy's voice makes my head swing around. I watch him throwing a towel into my direction and I catch it with ease. I wipe off the excess sweat from my neck, forehead, arms, hands and face.

"Where the fuck did you learn that?" Collin asks me, catching his breath.

"Krimov." I say with a shrug, "I've been training with him for two decades."

"That training definitely pays off." Jasper says, still out of breath.

I throw the towel back to my husband, "Another round?" I challenge them.

They both shake their heads, "No, definitely not." they say out of one mouth.

I grin before looking at my husband. "How's Della doing?"

"Finding her limit." Troy doesn't hide the grin on his lips.

"So, this is what it's about?" I ask as I walk over to him. He pulls the ropes apart so I can get through them.

"Yes."

"You dragged us all the way here just so Della can see her limits?" I ask him again.

He nods as we walk over to the second boxing ring that's elevated. "She needs to see that MI6 is not an option for her."

"She already said she wasn't going to take the job if she got accepted."

"She says that now, but when she gets that acceptance mail - and trust me she will - then she's going to change her mind. Therefore, I need to show her her own limits."

"Because you know her better than she knows herself?"

"No, because I would have been just as stubborn as she is. Franklin never showed me my limits. She needs to understand, truly understand, that she is not an agent but a surgeon."

I lick my lips as we reach the second boxing ring. My daughter is laying on her stomach underneath Simon, trying to fight her way out. After another full minute of fighting she finally gives up by tapping on the floor three times. Simon gets off of her and she pulls herself up. Her face is sweaty and red, her chestnut curls all over the place. She has reached her limit.

"Della," I cry out and she turns her head towards me. Her gaze sends chills down my spine. Fuck, she's mad.

"You!" she cries out, pointing at her father. "I told you I would not accept the job!" she hisses as she marches over to us. "You didn't have to humiliate me this way!"

"Yes, I did, Adaline." he insists, "Because otherwise you would have never seen, never understood, how much of a surgeon you are and how less of an agent."

She stares at him, "I hate you!" she hisses at him, struggling with the ropes to find a way out.

"Della," I start and try to pull the ropes apart for her to get out.

She slaps my hand away, "I can do that myself, mother!" she hisses at me before pulling them apart and getting out. I watch her storming past us and turn around.

"She literally hates us." I breathe out.

"No, she hates me, but that's okay. I rather have her hate me than have her work as an agent. This will teach her a lesson."

Suddenly, I watch my best friend walking into this gym. I wave with my hand, glad to see a familiar face in this strange gym. Dressed in a light grey shirt and dark washed jeans Wladimir Krimov walks over to us. He stops abruptly as his grey eyes see my daughter marching towards him. She stops across him. They glance at each other and I think they share a few words before Della storms out of the gym. She still seems angry.

Wlad walks over to us and hugs us both. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" he asks my husband.

"I wanted to catch you off guard."

"You managed to do that. I could have trained with Adaline or your wife. You didn't have to call the others."

"I know you're a busy man. I thought you were at your office today."

"I was, but I drove over here when I got a call from my stand-in, telling me that Troy Bolton is here with his family."

"To be fair, I took Collin and Jasper down quite well." I say with a chuckle, my eyes resting on the men that are still recovering.

Wlad turns around to follow my gaze. "No surprise there." he says before looking at us again. "And Della?"

"I showed her her limits." Troy hisses.

"What does he mean?" Wlad looks at me confused.

"Della wanted to become a MI6 agent." I breathe out with a shrug.

"WHAT?!" Wladimir asks me shocked. "I-I had no idea."

"If this session hadn't been enough we would have driven to your office and talk to your guys. At the latest then Della would have seen that MI6 is not a job for her."

"She's a surgeon. She's freaking amazing at it! Why would she-" "Adrenaline." Troy says with a shrug.

"But that doesn't mean she has to be a field operative. That job is not for everyone!"

"I think she got that now as well." I say to Wlad. "We should find Della."

"Yeah. See you next Friday." Troy says to Wladimir before hugging him again.

"I'll see you on Saturday. You won't take me down." Wladimir smirks at me.

"We'll see about that." I say with a grin on my lips.

I sit on a wooden bench, the straw hat that I'm wearing being the only shield against the merciless sun. My head swings from left to right, my eyes following the tennis ball that's getting hit between the two competitors. It's a hot July Saturday noon. Ry, Kelsi, Ana, Jake, Jo, Nate and Diana are all sitting around me, their eyes following the exact same green ball. Rory's on the grass court in a white tennis dress. The game has been going for the last two hours, with only a few short breaks. Regina Stratford is a tough nut to crack in her dark blue tennis outfit with a killer forehand topspin, but I'm sure my daughter will crash her. It's the finale of Road to Wimbledon, a tournament for 14 year olds and under. It's the biggest tournament in British tennis. After she won this - and I'm sure she will after fighting so hard - the scouts are going to scramble to get to manage her. Especially when she wins the international finals, which is what she qualifies for when she wins this. There she will meet will be joined by qualifying players from India, China, Hong Kong and Japan events. Stratford is fourteen, being significantly taller than Rory, but my daughter is more efficient and quietly frankly she wants it even more than her. The semi finale was very tough yesterday, as Rory's competitor was Joshua Henderson, the favourite of the game that should have been the sure winner. But Rory won after an almost five hour game. It's was fascinating to watch them both fighting so hard, playing their finest tennis yet. The score is in my daughter's favour, if she gets the next break ball, she'll win. I look at the display, seeing my daughter is hitting the ball with a 150 mph speed, although they've been playing under the sun for 125 minutes.

"Mom, it's so hot, I'm melting!" Nate complains.

"Dad's going to be here soon with water for you guys." I say to Jo, who is waving air to herself with her hand and Nate who growls at my answers.

As on call, I see my husband walking over to us with six water bottles in his hands.

"There you go." He throws a bottle to Nate and Jo, who catch them with ease. The other five get divided between Ry, Kelsi, Ana, Jake and Diana.

"Do you want a bottle as well?" He asks me.

I shake my head and pat on the free spot next to me, "Sit down, they're almost finished."

"I don't believe it until she has that trophy in her hands." Nate answers as Troy sits down between us. "I mean, at least my tournaments have a fixed time. Whoever taps the clock first, wins. One minute thirteen is my record. That's nothing compared to this!" He nods towards the rectangular grass court.

"He's right, this can go on forever." Jo says with a nod.

"No, it won't." Ana leans over me, "You need to score four points to win a game of tennis. The points are known as 15 (1 point), 30 (two points), 40 (three points) and the fourth would result in the winning point and the end of that game. If the scores went to 40-40 this would be known as deuce. When a game reaches deuce the player must then win by two clear points. To win the game you must win a certain amount of sets (best of three for women's matches and best of 5 sets for men's matches). Winning a set is simply the first player to reach 6 games but have to be clear by at least 2 games. If your opponent wins 5 games you must win the set 7-5. If the set goes to 6-6 then a tie break is played and it's simply the first player to 7 points."

Nate frowns at her explanation before looking at the display, "So, since the set is 6-6, they are playing a tie break?"

Ana nods, "Whoever gets 7 points first, wins."

"Rory has six." Jo says with a smile.

"So, it's almost over then?" Nate asks with a grin.

I chuckle before looking back to the court, just in time to see Rory win the last point. "YES!" I cry out, rising from the bench and clapping loudly along with all the other guests.

"Lorelai Olivia Valentina Bolton is the winner of this year's Road to Wimbledon!" The commentator announces, "That means she's qualified for the international finals in two weeks!" Rory and Regina shake hands and share a few words on the court before parting their ways.

"Wait, there's more?" Nate asks me with a growl.

I ignore him and run down to the grass court before wrapping my arms around my champion! I pick her up and swing her through the air, hearing her chuckle. "You won!" I kiss her cheeks before letting her down again. "I'm so proud of you, sweetie!"

Rory grins at me before picking up purple Wimbledon towel to wipe the sweat off her neck, "Regina was easier than Henderson. I thought I'd meet him in the finale." She says with a shrug. Twelve years old and she's bursting with self confidence, some might even call it arrogance - I call it my husband's genes.

"You crushed them all, champ." Troy says as he joins us. I watch him kneeing down a second before Rory wraps her lean arms around him.

"And you know what? I'll crush the rest at the international finals as well!" She says into his sparkling blue eyes.

"I'm sure you will." He says, rubbing his nose against her red one. She put on factor fifty sunscreen before the tournament started, but I guess after two hours the protection wasn't enough anymore.

"So, I guess we'll repeat this in two weeks then?" Nate says, fist bumping his youngest sister.

"You bet!" She says grinning as Jo wraps her arms around her. She whispers something into her twin sister's ear and Rory nods in response.

"Do you need anything?" I ask her, brushing through the chestnut chair.

"An ice tub to bath in." She says with a shrug, "But I could do with a cold shower as well - for now."

Her muscles must be aching so badly that I seriously wonder how she could play today at all. It must be her strong will, the kind of determination she got from her parents.

"How about some carbs on top of that?" Ryan asks her with a grin. "Pizza and pasta?"

Rory grins, "You know me too well, uncle Ry."

"It's why I'm your favourite-"

"Uncle in the whole wide world." The triplets finish his sentence in one mouth.

"God, I will never get used to this perfection that you are, Mrs. Bolton." I hear his dark erotic voice saying.

I twist my upper body around, dressed in a black laced corset, a matching thong and stockings. "Is that so?" I ask with a grin on my lips. My eyes move down his body, seeing him dressed in black pants from Hermes with the matching shoes and a white button down from Prada. The black bow around his neck is still open. There's a dirty grin on his lips. I will never get used to this view as well.

He nods, leaning against the closed doors in our walk in closet. "Definitely. Twenty two years of marriage haven't been enough."

"Well, I feel the same way about you, Mr. Bolton." I say before pulling my emerald dress from Elie Saab from the hanger. It's a stunning chiffon dress with a low v cut in the front and back. A thin black velvet belt is at the waistline and it sparkles from all the diamonds that are sewed into the fabric. His eyes are watching me closely as I get into the dress. The drop diamond earrings are a great fit to the dress.

"You look stunning." He whispers as he walks over to me. I turn around and quickly tie the bow around his neck.

"You do as well." I smile at him before kissing him softly. "And now grab your jacket. We are late as always."

He chuckles before turning around to pull the matching black Hermes jacket from one of the hangers. He grabs my hand and kisses my wedding bands as we walk out of the master bedroom. I'm still a bit hungover from the twin girls' birthday party yesterday. I can't believe my triplets are already thirteen! Thirteen - that's crazy! It feels like I gave birth yesterday. I still remember their first wobbly steps, their first words - it was Mommy for Nate and Daddy for the girls - their first teeth that fell out, their first day in kindergarten and school... how did thirteen years just flew by so quickly?!

"I want to add the photos of the birthday party to our gallery wall." I breathe out.

"We will."

As we walk down the staircase that leads to the kitchen I can already hear our children talking. The kitchen island has been transformed into a DIY hot chocolate station. Bowls filled with marshmallows, white and dark chocolate chips, colourful sprinkles, cinnamon sticks, candy cane, caramel bites, shredded coconut, rolled waffles and cookies are covering the island. At the end are two bottles with whipped cream and mugs. It's a sugar feast - Valentina is going to have some fun. "What's this?" I ask confused.

"Well since you won't allow us to attend the charity gala, we thought we could have our own party." Josephine starts explaining.

"Party?" Troy asks frowning.

"Yes. A hot chocolate party." Rory nods at us.

"And Valentina is where?" I ask frowning.

"I'm here!" She says with a heavy Italian accent. As always she's dressed like a supermodel in her bright red ruffled dress.

"We'll be back late." Troy says to our nanny and she nods with a smile on her ruby red lips.

She looks at me, "You look very beautiful tonight Mrs. Bolton."

"Thank you." I still don't know the secret between my husband and her. But I am eager to find out.

"Okay we have to get going." Troy says before pulling on my hand.

I watch Valentina's eyes staring at my husband again. I let go of Troy's hand. "Valentina, can I talk to you for a moment?" I point to the dinning room.

"Yes, sure." She says and walks into the dinning room.

"I'll be quick." I promise Troy.

He nods before looking at the triplets. "Who wants to know the best hot chocolate recipe?"

"Me!" They all cry out at once.

With a smile on my lips I walk into the dinning room that's between our kitchen and living area.

"Am I in trouble?" Valentina asks me with worry in her eyes.

I shake my head, "No."

"I won't get fired?"

"No. But I want to remind you to keep your eyes rather on my children than on my husband. And the way you dress doesn't really help either."

She frowns at me, not understanding the message for a second. But then she gets it. "Oh, Mrs. Bolton, I can assure you that Mr. Bolton is not in my personal interest. I am your nanny and I love this job. There are no romantic feelings. There couldn't ever be."

I frown at her last sentence. "I'm sorry?"

She takes a deep breath, "I'm gay, Mrs. Bolton."

Now that wasn't something I saw coming. "What?"

She licks her lips and blushes before looking at the floor. "It's you I find attractive, not your husband."

"Oh..." I breathe out still in shock. She's gay? Like really gay? And my husband knew that and didn't tell me?! "Okay, uhm..." I have no idea what to tell her now. Wait, she slept with Brad, didn't she? "But you slept with Brad."

"I'm sorry?" She asks me confused.

"Brad said that you guys had sex." Or did he lie to me?

She chuckles, "No, Brad and I have never slept together. I've been gay since I am seventeen."

"You didn't sleep with him?"

"Definitely not. He lied to you. I am a woman's kind of woman, through and through. I haven't even seen a penis in forever! And I don't intend to."

"Well, then I guess my concern is no longer a concern."

She nods, "But I will try to dress down a little."

I nod and scan her red ruffled dress and black Jimmy Choos. "It would help if you wore more jeans and sneakers."

"Got it."

I look up at her again, "But I'm not gay."

She laughs at me, "Oh I know. I definitely know that. It's just..." she shrugs, "You are my type."

I chuckle at her words. It's me who is her type not my husband. How ironic. "Please make sure the triplets don't have too much sugar. Otherwise they'll be suffering a pretty bad hangover tomorrow morning when we're going to drive them to the airport." Tomorrow both of their school trip starts. Turns out both schools, North London Collegiate School and the City of London School, are spending two weeks in France, exploring the local vineyards as well as the beaches. They'll spend one week in Languedoc-Roussillon, where the coast goes flat and one week in the Provence. Although there are only fifteen children in total with five teachers from both schools, I'm sure it's still going to be stressful for them to watch them.

"Well have fun this evening."

"Yes and you as well." With that I walk back into the kitchen. I catch my husband taking a sip of a hot chocolate he made. "Come on, we have to go."

"Yes." He agrees, having a white moustache from the milk above his lip.

I chuckle before walking over to him. With my thumb I remove the milk, "You're having too much fun here, aren't you?"

"The hot chocolate bar was a really good idea." He agrees before sucking on my thumb.

"You'll also have a lot of fun with me tonight." I promise him before getting my hand back. I embrace my children all at once quickly. "Bye guys!" I kiss each child on their heads.

"Love you!" They cry out in choir as we walk through the hallway. I open the wardrobe and get out my Louboutin heels before slipping into them.

"You could have told me that Valentina's gay." I breathe out as we leave the house.

"She told you?"

"I had to pull it out of her nose but yes she did. Why didn't you?"

He shrugs as he unlocks his vintage white Ferrari. "I think it's private. I mean we didn't tell her about our fucking room either."

"Yes but she's gay. There was no reason for me to be this jealous all these years and yell at you as many times as I did." I get into the car.

He gets in as well and looks at me. "I like it when you're jealous. Besides it's how the triplets were created."

I raise my eyebrows at him, "You did it to tease me?"

He shrugs, "Maybe."

"Oh, you're going to pay for that, Mr. Bolton." I say as he starts driving down our pebbled driveway. "How long have you known?"

"Since the day we interviewed her."

"Since thirteen years?!" I ask him shocked. He left me in the dark for over a decade?!

"I notice when someone's checking out my wife." He says with a shrug.

"But did she tell you?"

"She just told you. That's proof enough."

I lean back in the seat as he drives on the streets. "You didn't know for sure?"

"Oh I knew. I saw it every time she looked at you. There was a certain fire in her eyes."

My mouth drops open, "Why didn't I see it?" I mean, she's been working for us for thirteen years and I had no clue! Absolutely no clue!

He glances at me as he stops at a red light, "Because your eyes protect me. Just like mine protect you. You didn't see it because you were too focused on your jealousy."

"Is this why you wanted her in the first place?"

"Of course. I knew she wouldn't be a danger in your eyes."

"Except she was. For the last thirteen years." I point out.

He grabs my hand as we walk up the stairs in front of the Plaza hotel. Following the couples that are dressed for this black tie event, we enter the Plaza. People are chatting in the foyer, already enjoying a glass of champagne. Soft piano music is filling the room without making it impossible to have a proper conversation.

"Do you see them yet?" I ask, looking for my daughter's blonde hair and her boyfriend. It's going to be their first public event, although they've been together for over two years now.

"No." he says as a waitress walks past us. He grabs two champagne flutes from the tray and hands me one. "Drink. Champagne makes you worry less."

I take a big gulp, leaving a little of my nude lipgloss on the edge. Tonight should be about collecting money for sick children, but for me it's more about my daughter having her debut with her boyfriend. I don't know why it makes me feel so nervous. I mean by now she is used to the press as much as us. She grew up with people wanting to know where she goes, what she's wearing and who she's with...

"There they are." Troy nods behind me and I turn around.

"For Christ's sake, she looks stunning!" I breathe out as I see them. Ana chose a Jenny Packham dress in a teal tulle which is covered with holographic sequins that catch the light from every angle. There's a deep V-neckline, but not enough to make it look inappropriate. Her blonde hair is wrapped into a messy bun, to not take away the focus from the low-cut back and criss-cross straps. Her earlobes are glittering with drop down diamond earrings. Her bright green eyes are emphasised with a grey smokey eye and her lips are covered in a peachy nude lip gloss. She has never looked more beautiful. She's glowing not only from the outside, but from the inside as well.

"They both are." Troy agrees with me.

Jake's dressed in a black tuxedo from Armani with a black bow tied around his neck. His pale green eyes find us before Ana and he smiles before slowly walking over to us in his shiny black shoes. He even shaved for this evening just like my husband.

"I like them together. They're going to give us stunning grandchildren!" I breathe out as Jake informs Ana where we are..

"Gabriella, they aren't even engaged."

"Yet!" I rise my finger at him, "Trust me, Jake does not want to let go of our girl." Ana smiles at me.

"I'm more concerned about him hurting her." Troy counters. I watch Jake interlocking his fingers tightly with my daughter's before they walk over to us.

"I thought you liked him."

"I do but I'm still worried about him hurting her. I can't help it, I'm her Dad after all."

"No one's hurting anyone. They won't let go of one another. Ever."

"You're already planning their wedding, aren't you?" Troy whispers into my ear as they approach us.

"Maybe picking out the flowers." I joke with a grin on my lips. She loves peonies as much as I do.

He shakes his head, his turquoise orbs starring deeply into mine. "I love you."

"Mom!" Ana embraces me tightly and I get a hint of her perfume. Dior's Miss Dior notes fill my nostrils along with her own smell.

"You look stunning!" I breathe out as my eyes dance down the holographic dress. "Turn around."

"Thank you." Ana says as she turns around. Fuck, she looks hot!

"You're a very lucky man, Jake. I hope you know that." I say to her boyfriend.

His pale green eyes sparkle, "I'm very well aware of the luck I'm having." he shows me a soft smile.

"How about we find the bar?" Troy asks Jake, who nods. "That way they can have a little mother-daughter time."

"Don't pick out a wedding date yet." Troy whispers into my ear before he kisses my cheek.

I chuckle as I watch him and Jake walking away from us. "You look so good!"

"You look good yourself! Elie Saab?"

I nod, she knows he's my favourite designer. "I love you two together."

She blushes and nods, "I know that."

"And he really hasn't asked you to move in with him yet?"

"Mom," she sighs.

"What? You can tell me. No one cares about this."

She looks over her shoulder and scans the crowd, "No."

"No he hasn't asked you or no you don't want to?"

"No, there are too many journalists here. I've seen people from Daily Mail, Sunday Times, The Guardian, The Observer, The Times..."

"So, he didn't ask you."

"Mom, I am still at Oxford Law. I told you I wouldn't move in with him before I finished law school."

"Yeah, I know but he's so perfect for you."

"No one's perfect, not even Jake." she counters.

"But he's pretty damn close."

"Yes, pretty close." she admits before looking over my shoulder. I watch her forest green eyes sparkling, catch her blushing and smiling.

"He's looking at us."

"With Daddy, yes."

Oh yeah, I'm feeling his gaze burning holes in my back as well. "He likes him too, you know."

"I know." she looks back at me, "I'm just so gutted Della couldn't join us."

"To be honest, I wouldn't want to be the third wheel to our double date either."

Ana giggles, "Mom, I'm not on a date with my parents!"

I love her giggle, it fills my heart with more love than she knows. "Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that being stuck in the OR on her first day back might be a good thing."

"She's back in the OR?"

"She didn't tell you?"

Ana shakes her head, "We haven't been able to catch up much."

"Because you were busy with Jake?"

"Stop rubbing salt into my wounds, I feel bad enough for being such a shity sister." she sighs, "Which hospital took her?"

Turns out even a wonder child has problems with finding a job when she publicly declared that she's a drug addict. "The Lister Hospital."

"Private care?"

I nod.

"Good, I'll make sure to apply there when I finish law school."

"Ana, you don't have to follow Della's every step."

"No, Mom, I do. Because she screwed up and I'll be damned if that ever happens again."

"She's fine now. Healthy. Besides, it's really our job, as her parents, to take care of her."

"I still want to be close to her. We've always been close. We went to the same school, had private lessons with Prof. Bell, went to Oxford Med School together... Why not work together? At least we'll be weirdos together then."

I chuckle, "Weirdos?"

She shrugs, "Yeah."

"Ana, look around. Does it seem like weirdos attend those kind of events?"

"Well, no... but you know-"

"She'll be fine without you."

"But I want to be with her. I want to see her in the hallways, have lunch with her in the cafeteria, talk about our patients together, be in the same OR... I really want that."

"Okay, fine. Then Lister Hospital it is."

"Good."

"Can we change the subject to something lighter now?"

"Back to you and Jake?"

"No, something other than that. Are the little ones excited for their school trip tomorrow?"

I nod and smile widely, "Yeah. France will be good for them."

"Two weeks, right?"

"Two weeks." I nod.

"I bet you can't wait to have an empty house."

"It's going to be weird. We build this house for you guys, for our big family... not just the two of us."

"It's just two weeks."

"Yeah, I know..." I shrug, I already miss them although they're not gone yet.

"And Valentina will be gone as well?"

I nod, "She'll take our jet to Italy. She's going to visit her family there. She's gay by the way."

"I know."

"How come everyone knows that but me?!" I ask her shocked.

Ana chuckles, "Mom, you turn into a monster whenever a woman lays her eyes on Dad."

"I do not!"

"Yeah you do, but I can totally understand that now." She looks behind me again.

"Oh, I'm sure you can."

"My angel," I feel his finger cups brushing over my cheek. "Wake up."

I growl in response, "No, I want to sleep. You fucked me to sleep just a few minutes ago."

His deep chuckle fills my ears, "We promised to drive the triplets to the airport together."

"What time is it?"

"Seven, we have to be en route in an hour."

I pull the pillow over my head, "Wake me in thirty minutes."

"Gabi, you have to eat something before we leave."

"I'll just have coffee."

"I'm sure you want to shower."

I shake a head, "No."

"My angel," he sighs.

I growl, "I'm too tired to move. Why didn't you stop fucking me?"

"You begged for more. You begged me with that flushed face, greedy pussy and perfect tits. How was I suppose to say no? I couldn't say no for twenty four years now." He kisses my cheek. "Get up."

I roll over to the other side, "No."

"Gabi,"

"Ten more minutes."

"Get up or I will personally drag you under the shower - and it will be a cold one."

"No, you won't."

"Your think I'm bluffing?"

I don't respond.

"Fine." With that he scoops me into his arms.

I open my eyes widely and let out a squeal. "Troy," I breathe out as he rushes into our master bathroom. His hair is still damp, I notice as his smell fills my nostrils. He's already dressed in his black Armani boxer briefs and a white shirt.

"I don't joke when it comes to my children." He reminds me as he walks through the white marbled bathroom.

"Troy, please." I beg as he opens the door of our double rain shower.

He lets me down inside the marbled shower, "I warned you."

"Troy, I-" he puts on the water and I feel the icy cold water rushing down on me a second later. I cry out in surprise as the water drops kiss me. Goosebumps start covering my skin as I am soaking wet within a second. Troy's grey shirt starts sticking to my skin. "Oh, you're going to pay for that!" I hiss at him with a growl.

"No, I don't think so." He says with a big grin in his lips.

"Oh yes!" I hiss as I grab onto his white shirt. I pull the fabric towards me, under the running shower head.

He chuckles but doesn't move no matter how hard I pull on the shirt.

"Troy, get in."

"What do I get if I do?"

I get out of the wet grey shirt and throw it on the floor beside me. "How's that?"

His lips are over mine within a blink of an eye. My wet back crashes against the cold marble as he presses my body against it. My fingers run over his wet shirt and I feel his muscles vibrating from my touch. His scent washes over me and I forget the icy cold water. I help gathering the white cotton before helping him out of it. His erection presses into my stomach despite the cold water that's running down on us. I hook my thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs and pull them down until they fall down his legs on their own. He steps out of them and kicks them away. "You are my weak spot." He breathes out, squeezing my ass.

"That's good because you're mine as well." I grin against his lips as he lifts me, holding on to my waist. He spreads my legs even wider with his elbows before kissing me hard.

"I'm going to be rough." He warns me, pressing his forehead against mine.

"I'm sore."

"It's why I warned you." With that I feel him shoving his penis into me and I gasp at the feeling. This exquisite stretch that's so good, so strong that it nearly makes me cry. He kisses the right corner of my mouth as I feel him balls-deep in me. Shit, how much I missed that feeling. My nails start running down his shoulders as he gives me a brief moment to accommodate to his size. Then he start moving, giving me a rough Troy-Bolton-style wake up call.

My favourite kind of wake up call.

"And you guys will call us. Every day." I say to the triplets, who growl at my words. The luggage has already been checked in and the teachers have the boarding passes. All that is left to do now, is say goodbye. For two freaking weeks!

"Mom, we're not twelve anymore. We know-"

"You will call us." Troy demands, not giving them anything to argue about.

They all gulp and nod, "Yes." They say in choir.

I wrap my arms around the three of them one more time. I can't believe I won't be able to do that for two weeks! "Every day."

Nate rolls his eyes, "Fine."

"Mom, remember about the no body contact rule?" Jo complains.

"That was for public. We're in a private airport."

"Same thing." Rory hisses, "You're doing it in front of our classmates!"

I let go of them and sigh. I didn't think it would be this hard. We've never been longer apart than ten days. Two weeks? Fourteen days? That sounds like torture out of the sudden.

"Have fun." Troy hugs them as well. "But not too much."

I feel tears building in my eyes, so I embrace them again.

"Mom, we have to get going." Jo starts arguing.

"Yeah, all the other parents are already long gone." Rory agrees with her older sister.

"Stop making a scene. We don't to be the topics of conversations... not more than we are anyway." Nate hisses at me and I let go.

I rise to my full height and look around. Shit, all the parents are really gone. We're the only ones left - with the fifteen pupils and five teachers staring at us. "Okay, fine. I love you."

"We love you, too." They say to us.

Suddenly, Troy hugs them again, tighter this time. "I love you guys to the moon and back." It's hard for him, too.

"Dad!" They growl.

"Fine, I'm letting go." He says with a chuckle before taking his place next to me. I link my fingers tightly with his and squeeze his hand to ensure him we're suffering equally as much.

"You'll pick us up, right?" Nate asks his father.

Troy gulps down his emotions and nods, "I will." He promises them.

Smiling, I stretch out my arms. God, when was the last time I felt so sore, so happy and so loved? Yawning, I open my eyes and sigh as I feel his empty bedside. As always he is already awake and probably out on his run through Richmond Park. I turn over on my back and frown as my eyes stare at my name in his curly handwriting on a piece of paper. There is a folded letter laying on his side of the bed. He has never written me a letter. In twenty four years, I have never received a letter from him. I open it slowly, feeling unease.

I am sorry.

Three words.

Eight letters.

And my world breaks apart.

Did I promise you too much?

So much has happened in this chapter! How do you think Gabriella is going to react to this? How will she manage it? How will the kids react to their father being gone now?

Please review to let me know your theories about why Troy left.

There's still so much more coming!