It had been several tranquil years since Selina gave birth to their twins, a boy and a girl they named Eli and Maya. And it had been precisely two years since Tony Stone triumphed in the courtroom, securing victory in the arduous legal battle that had once threatened to unravel everything he cherished. He emerged not merely vindicated, but reborn—his dignity intact, his name cleared.
With the shadow of the courtroom behind him, Tony returned to his family no longer as a man burdened by injustice, but as a devoted husband and a proud father. Eli and Maya were growing quickly into teenagers, their presence filling the house with a new rhythm of noise, laughter, and endless curiosity. Tony could still remember the first time they called him "Papa." He had stood frozen, overwhelmed by the weight of that single word. Tears blurred his vision, not from sorrow, but from gratitude so fierce it nearly brought him to his knees. In that moment, he understood the true meaning of contentment.
Often, he would cradle them both while Selina prepared meals, swaying gently to lull Maya to sleep as Eli reached for his face with eager, curious fingers. He had promised himself he would watch them grow, and he kept that promise. Their modest home, filled with laughter and warmth, became a sanctuary, an oasis of light after years spent trudging through darkness.
Peace is a dangerous luxury in a world where hatred still breathes.
Defeat burned Marcus more than the verdict itself. The court had broken his pride, stripped his influence, and tarnished his name. Every reminder of that humiliation festered inside him, hardening into rage. And from that rage, darker schemes took shape.
Marcus leaned back in the leather chair, the dim light of the study throwing across his face. One by one, his men entered, heavy foot steps filling the room. He didn't greet them; With a flick of his hand, he pushed a folder across the table. Inside were photographs, notes, and a carefully drawn map of Tony's neighborhood.
"Every move he makes," Marcus said quietly, his voice steady but edged with venom. "You'll watch, you'll wait, and when the moment comes, you'll make sure he doesn't get back up."
The men exchanged a brief glance, then nodded as one. No questions, no hesitation. Marcus had chosen them because they were more than followers, they were his will given flesh, sharpened and obedient. The room fell silent again, the kind of silence that meant the hunt had already begun.
___
That moment came on one cool evening, as the last light of day faded and shadows stretched across the street.
Inside Tony's apartment, the air was alive with the aroma of sautéed garlic and simmering broth in inside the kitchen. The soft scrape of knives against cutting boards mixed with the occasional burst of laughter. Tony and Selina worked side by side at the counter, their hands brushing now and then as they passed ingredients. At the table, Eli and Maya, now teenagers with sharp tongues and playful rivalry, were helping chop carrots.
Suddenly, Eli paused, the knife hovering midair. His gaze lingered on his father, his voice low as he finally spoke.
"Dad… have you ever done something you regretted so badly you wished it never happened?"
The question struck Tony harder than any courtroom accusation ever had. He turned to Selina, his eyes glistening, then quickly brushed the tears away before facing his son.
"Everyone makes mistakes," he said softly. "Grave ones, sometimes. But the truth is, we can't let the bad times outweigh the good. Regret teaches us—but it must never chain us."
Eli nodded, his expression thoughtful.
"Maybe Eli did something wrong at school," Maya chimed in, smirking. "He's always getting into trouble anyway." Teasing him was her favorite sport.
"May, I told you to stop teasing your brother," Selina scolded, her tone almost strict.
Eli grinned. "Don't stop, Mom. I love how she sounds like a loser when she tries to be clever."
Maya gasped in mock offense. Grabbing a bowl of gumbo soup that rested nearby, she dashed toward him, threatening to spill it in his eyes. Eli yelped and darted away, laughter echoing through the house.
"Careful, Maya!" Their mother shouted, half-laughing herself. "You'll actually blind your brother if you slip."
Maya spun around with exaggerated drama, glaring back at her mother. "If he keeps calling me a loser, I'll do it for real!" she declared before chasing Eli again.
Selina giggled and shook her head, moving toward the refrigerator. She opened it, scanned its contents, and frowned. "Baby, we're out of pepper."
Tony wiped his hands on a towel and smiled. "I'll go grab some."
"Why don't I go instead? I'll be quick," she offered.
He stepped forward, kissed her forehead softly, and shook his head. "No. I don't want you out at night. I'll be right back."
He grabbed his wallet and coat, pausing at the door to glance back at his children, still flushed from laughter and running.
"You two behave. Listen to your mom, I don't want any complaints when I get back."
"Okay, Dad!" they chorused breathlessly.
His gaze softened as he turned to Selina. "Watch the kids. Lock the door behind me, and don't open it for anyone unless you hear my voice. Promise me."
"I promise," she said, still smiling, though a faint unease flickered behind her eyes.
Tony stepped into the evening chill, unaware of the eyes already tracking his every move.
The roadside shop was just a short walk from the house. The shopkeeper, an old man who had known Tony since childhood, raised his hand in greeting as Tony picked out fresh pepper. A quick banter, a smile, and the peppers were dropped into a black nylon bag with a practiced hand. "Take care, my pikin," the man said. Tony nodded his thanks and stepped back into the humid night. For a brief moment, he felt content, the laughter of his family waiting at home, the quiet joy of a simple errand done.