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*****
"Hahaha! I win! Hand over the money!"
Gwen slapped down her tiles with a triumphant grin, reaching out and making a playful "give me money" gesture.
Hope and the other two looked at Gwen, torn between laughter and exasperation.
It wasn't that the money mattered much—they were only playing for small stakes—but Gwen's smug little face every time she won was enough to make anyone's blood boil. No one knew where she had learned to gloat like that.
Gwen's eyes gleamed mischievously. She glanced at the pile of bills in front of her, then at the three across the table, secretly calculating who she'd let win next.
If she kept letting them lose, they'd definitely quit. So, she had to occasionally let them taste victory.
That was something she'd learned from her dad. From her observations, Aunt Maria and Aunt Peggy Carter had been through countless defeats yet kept coming back for more.
According to her father, it was about letting people experience the joy of a "comeback," that intoxicating moment of turning the tables.
The trick was simple: after endless frustration, you grant them a brief, exhilarating win—enough to get them hooked again.
And judging by the results, Gwen's technique was working beautifully.
Looking at the little pile of winnings before her, Gwen smiled happily.
Just then, Charles walked over, cleared his throat, and said with mock seriousness, "You've won quite a bit, Gwen."
"Heehee!"
"But underage gambling is illegal, so…"
Charles suddenly snatched up Gwen's money with a grin. "Your big brother will keep it safe for you!"
"Ahhh!"
Gwen jumped up, lunging for her cash—but before she could get it back…
"I'll hold on to this half," Erik said cheerfully, pocketing the rest.
Gwen stared blankly, watching her precious winnings sprout wings and fly away.
"Ah! Give it back, you two evil villains!"
She shrieked and pounced at them, hopping like an angry little rabbit.
Erik and Charles just held the money high and laughed maniacally.
Then—
Slap! Slap!
Two sharp smacks landed on the backs of their heads, courtesy of Clark. Both men immediately lowered their heads in pain.
"Stop bullying Gwen," Clark said flatly, staring at them. Then, turning toward the women at the mahjong table, he added, "Dinner's ready."
Hope's eyes lit up. "I'll go get the dishes!" she said eagerly.
She'd been waiting to eat Mike's cooking all evening.
Jean tidied up the mahjong table but couldn't stop herself from glancing quietly at Charles.
Meanwhile, Hela bit her thumb, eyes glinting coldly as she stared at the tiles on the table.
She would conquer this game. There was nothing in the Nine Realms she couldn't master.
Erik and Charles reluctantly handed the money back to Gwen, both looking defeated.
"You spoil her too much," Charles sighed. "You never did that for me when I was a kid."
Erik nodded in agreement.
The two exchanged looks—and couldn't help but laugh.
"Dinner's ready!"
Mike emerged from the kitchen carrying two steaming dishes. He set them down and called out to everyone.
Instantly, the room burst into motion.
Plates, bowls, chopsticks, chairs—all scrambled into place.
When all the food was finally served, everyone stared at the feast laid out before them, mouths watering at the rich aroma filling the room.
"It's beautiful…"
Jean couldn't help praising it aloud.
She had never seen dishes that looked this artistic—the phoenix spreading its wings, the dragon coiling through clouds, delicate blossoms carved from vegetables, glistening under the light.
They were edible art.
Hela's eyes gleamed. Now this was the kind of challenge worthy of her conquest.
Just as she picked up her chopsticks, Erik placed a hand on her wrist and said sternly, "The elders eat first."
Hela frowned but slowly put her chopsticks down.
It was the same rule in Asgard—the highest-ranking person always dined first.
And she had to admit, Mike truly was impressive.
"Don't stand on ceremony," Mike said, taking the first bite himself. "Go ahead."
At that, everyone dove in.
At first, the pace was polite and measured—then it quickly devolved into a blur of chopsticks.
Watching her three "big brothers" lovingly serving food to their girlfriends, Gwen bit her chopsticks with a pout.
Hmph!
Traitors—all of them.
But the next moment, everyone placed something into her bowl, piling it up like a tiny mountain.
Gwen's mood flipped instantly. She beamed and decided she'd give them her Christmas presents later.
The dinner felt less like eating and more like surviving a delicious ambush.
"Haha! You all look just like Aunt Raven right now!" Gwen laughed as she saw everyone rubbing their full stomachs.
The room erupted in laughter.
"Hey! While we're all here, why don't we discuss the construction plans for Kent Star?" Charles suggested, struggling to move after overeating.
"Good idea," Erik said. "The sooner we decide, the sooner I can start building."
He paused, then added, "Wait a moment, I need to grab something. Dad, help me."
Mike nodded, opened a portal for him, and Erik stepped through to Kent Star.
A few minutes later, he returned with several chunks of metal floating behind him.
"Alright, let's begin."
As everyone talked, Erik manipulated the metals into shape, gradually forming a detailed scale model.
Before long, a full metallic replica stood before them—but it was… strange-looking.
Since everyone had voiced their own opinions, the result was a bizarre, chaotic blend of styles.
Eventually, they had to spend extra time reconciling their ideas and finally reached an agreement—a palace-style design.
"Then it's settled," Erik said, glancing around to confirm no one objected. He set the model aside.
Once back on Kent Star, they'd just need to scale it up to full size.
"Cough."
Clark cleared his throat and exchanged a knowing look with his three brothers. The four of them got up, went upstairs, and came back down carrying wrapped gifts—two each.
"Dad, Aunt Raven," they said in unison, "these are for you."
"I'm not a kid, you know," Mike said with a grin—but he quickly took the gifts anyway.
"Can we open them?" Raven asked softly, touched.
"Of course!" Gwen chirped.
Raven carefully unwrapped each one—perfume, a necklace, a dress, and a pair of elegant shoes.
All exquisite, clearly chosen with care.
"Thank you. I love them," Raven said, her eyes moist with emotion. It was the first time she'd ever received so many gifts.
Mike eagerly opened his presents next—Erik had gotten him a tailored suit, Charles a pair of leather shoes, and Gwen a tie.
Then he opened Clark's.
"This one's actually from all four of us," Clark explained. "I just gave it under my name."
Inside was a photo album—filled with memories of their family through the years.
There were photos from the day Mike found Clark, all the way to the present.
Mike holding a baby Clark, Clark crying his eyes out, Clark proudly showing off a school award, and later, their college days—all moments frozen in time.
Pointing at one of the baby photos, Mike laughed. "This little rascal brought home a venomous snake once and called it his 'friend.' When I threw it out, he bawled his eyes out! Hahaha!"
Everyone stared at Clark in disbelief.
Good grief—he'd been fearless even as a toddler.
Clark just shrugged, while Hope pointed at the snot bubble in the picture and burst into laughter.
"And this one…" Mike pointed to another photo of Charles and Erik—and immediately cracked up.
Everyone crowded around, only to recoil in mock disgust.
Two toddlers, both with pacifiers in their mouths, were fiercely wrestling over… a used diaper.
Charles groaned, covering his face. "Why have I never seen that picture?"
"Uh, I hid it after taking it," Clark admitted with a smirk.
The mischievous grin on his face made both brothers shiver.
"This one's from Christmas," Mike said, flipping the page. "Back when Hank gave us that villa. It was snowing that year. The boys played for hours."
He gently stroked the photo, eyes full of nostalgia, telling stories behind each snapshot.
"And this is Gwen—her first birthday with us. She was such a sweet little angel… uh, she still is, of course."
Mike continued flipping through until he realized something—they still didn't have a full family photo.
He looked at Erik and the others' gifts and suddenly understood their intent.
Seeing his expression, the four brothers smiled knowingly.
"You little brats," Mike chuckled. "Wait right here."
He took Raven's hand and led her upstairs.
A few minutes later, they returned wearing their gifts.
Mike, back in his true form, stood tall and sharp-featured, his black hair cut short with streaks of silver at the temples—a touch of age that only added to his mature charm.
Raven wore a flowing white gown, the sapphire necklace gleaming at her throat. Pregnancy had softened her figure, giving her a gentle radiance.
When they descended the stairs, Gwen squealed like an excited fan and, with a wave of her hand, conjured blue flames that transformed into floating petals, showering over them.
Mike chuckled. "That's enough, that's enough."
Gwen grinned. "No way—Dad's the most handsome man in the world!"
Mike pinched her cheek. "You little rascal."
"I've got the camera ready," Erik said, summoning it with a wave.
Everyone gathered before the Christmas tree. Clark and Charles called Hope and Jean over, and after Erik invited Hela to join, they positioned Mike and Raven in the center.
The shutter clicked—capturing their first full family portrait.
Everyone looked at the photo and nodded in satisfaction.
Erik hesitated, glancing at Hela.
Charles grinned mischievously, pulling Jean close. "Come on, let's take one together," he said, tilting his chin toward Erik.
Erik snapped their photo, then took one for Clark.
"Now give me the camera," Charles said slyly. "You and Hela, stand together—I'll take one of you two."
Erik's heart warmed. Ah, brotherhood.
Hela glared daggers at him—a silent threat—but Erik only smiled faintly and boldly grabbed her hand.
The photo captured that moment: Erik smiling brightly, holding her hand tight, while Hela's face remained cool—save for the faintest curve at her lips.
Charles nodded approvingly. "Good. Now remember—be nicer to me later."
Erik nodded furiously, grinning like an idiot as he stared at the photo.
Just then, Mike's phone rang.
After answering briefly, he looked up and said, "Alright everyone, let's go. Time to be witnesses."
"Witnesses?" Gwen asked curiously. "To what?"
"Tony's proposing tonight."
"What!? Proposal!? Let's go!"
Gwen was already dashing for the door.
Everyone else followed, smiling as they stepped outside.
In front of their house, they found that all their superhero neighbors had come out too—clearly, they'd all been invited to witness the moment.
They exchanged nods and greetings.
But as the others glanced at Mike's group of nine, their eyelids twitched violently.
The Kent family… seemed even scarier than before.
After a couple of minutes, just as Hela began to grow impatient, a streak of fire descended from the sky.
Tony landed before them, holding Pepper in his arms.
He set her down gently, his Iron Man armor opening with a hiss as he stepped out.
Pepper blushed when she saw the crowd and gave Tony's chest a light smack.
Tony smiled warmly—then, to her shock, dropped to one knee, holding out a ring.
"Pepper," he said, eyes shining, "will you marry me?"
Pepper gasped, tears welling in her eyes.
She had waited so long for this moment.
"Say yes! Say yes!" everyone shouted.
Pepper nodded, overwhelmed, as Tony slipped the ring onto her finger.
Cheers erupted all around as they embraced and kissed.
High above them, dozens of Iron Man suits soared into the sky, their thrusters painting words of fire across the night—illuminating the heavens.
Mike watched the beautiful scene unfold, then turned to look at his family beside him.
A smile spread across his face.
This Christmas Eve… was truly beautiful.
(End of Chapter)