Older children peeked curiously into bassinets, their wide eyes and gentle fingers exploring the tiny faces of their new siblings.
The family's dining hall, already lively, now rang with twice the chatter and clinking of cutlery, the warmth of love spilling into every corner.
The mansion itself seemed to have changed. It no longer felt like a grand structure of marble and gold, but a living, breathing home.
There were moments when the hallways echoed with baby cries in different pitches, only to be quickly soothed by soft shushing and kisses.
Other times, the house was filled with laughter—the unrestrained, bubbling kind that only children could bring.
Ross would often stand in the middle of it all, watching, a rare and unguarded smile playing on his lips, feeling the quiet certainty that this—more than power, wealth, or fame—was his greatest treasure.
And so, as the year marched on, the family continued to grow not just in number but in love.
