"That's cheating!"
"It isn't cheating if you never said I couldn't do it."
"You knew what the rules were!"
Kian Aldren stopped outside the dining room, one hand resting against the doorframe as he listened to his younger siblings argue. He had been awake for nearly two hours, but apparently the triplets had found something worth fighting over before breakfast.
"What's happening?" he asked.
Three heads turned toward him.
Mae was the first to speak. At seven years old, she had already developed the habit of standing with her hands on her hips whenever she believed someone had committed a serious injustice.
"Elijah cheated."
"I didn't!"
"He did," Mae insisted. "He changed the rules after we started."
Elijah folded his arms. "You can't change rules that weren't there."
Davi, who had been quietly eating a piece of toast, looked between his siblings before returning his attention to breakfast.
Kian noticed.
"What did you do?"
Davi blinked innocently. "Nothing."
"That wasn't convincing."
"I didn't do anything bad."
"That's a different answer."
From the head of the table, Rivan Aldren let out a laugh.
"Leave the boy alone, Kian. He's the only one here with enough sense to eat while the food's warm."
"Grandpa!" Mae protested. "You're supposed to be helping us."
"I am helping. I'm teaching you that arguments are best settled on a full stomach."
Elara, seated beside her husband, gave him a look over her teacup. "You've been encouraging them since they came downstairs."
"And they've been very entertaining."
Kian pulled out a chair, only for Mae to hurry around the table and place both hands against its back.
"You can't sit there."
He looked down at her. "Why not?"
"Because that's what we're deciding."
"Whether I'm allowed to sit?"
"Who gets to sit next to you."
Kian glanced at the three empty chairs surrounding his usual place. "There are two sides."
"And three of us," Elijah explained, as though Kian had somehow overlooked the problem.
"So take turns."
"We did that yesterday," Mae said.
"And the day before," Davi added.
Kian studied them for a moment. "Then I'm sitting beside Grandpa."
Rivan immediately pulled out the chair next to him.
"Excellent choice."
"No!" all three children shouted.
Kian laughed as he took his seat.
Across the table, his father lowered the newspaper he'd been reading. Karlen Aldren had spent enough years in military service to develop an impressive tolerance for noise, but even he looked amused by the morning's negotiations.
"You know," Karlen said, "when Kian was your age, he didn't argue this much."
Elara snorted.
"That's because you weren't home enough to hear him."
Serenya entered carrying a small bowl of sliced fruit and placed it on the table. "He argued plenty. He just preferred pretending he wasn't arguing."
Kian accepted the plate she handed him. "I'm beginning to think everyone woke up intending to attack me."
"Don't be dramatic," his mother replied, kissing the side of his head before sitting down. "Eat your breakfast."
Mae climbed onto the chair beside him before Elijah could protest. Davi took the other, leaving Elijah standing between them.
Kian looked at his youngest brother.
"You can sit across from me."
Elijah frowned. "That's not the same."
"You'll have a better view."
"Of what?"
"Your sister stealing my breakfast."
Mae, whose fork was already approaching Kian's plate, froze.
The table erupted in laughter.
By the time everyone settled, the conversation had shifted to Clearwater.
Serenya had spent the previous evening reviewing what still needed to be packed, while Elara had discovered three boxes of belongings Rivan had assured everyone were already sorted. The triplets had each been given a luggage allowance, a decision that had apparently resulted in Mae preparing a written inventory, Elijah attempting to pack an entire collection of sports equipment, and Davi hiding extra toys inside his grandfather's luggage.
"I found them," Rivan informed Davi.
"All of them?"
Rivan paused.
Davi smiled.
Elara sighed. "I'm checking those bags again."
Kian shook his head, smiling as he reached for his coffee.
Their family had lived in Tavora for generations. His grandfather's military career had made the Aldren name familiar long before Karlen followed the same path, and the family still had close friends scattered throughout the country's defense community. Moving away was not a decision any of them had made lightly.
Yet when Kian had presented his plans for expanding the company into Clearwater, his family had surprised him with how quickly they began discussing the possibilities.
There had been questions, certainly. Karlen had wanted to know how Kian intended to manage his existing contracts. Rivan had questioned the practicalities of relocating so many people at once. Serenya had been concerned about the children's schooling, while Elara wanted assurances that they would have enough space to maintain some independence.
Once those matters had been addressed, however, the conversation had turned from whether they should move to when.
"Are we taking the basketball hoop?" Elijah asked.
"The one in the driveway?" Kian replied.
"Yes."
"No."
Elijah looked horrified. "Why?"
"Because Clearwater has basketball courts."
"But that's our hoop."
"Then you should've put it in your luggage."
Elijah considered this with alarming seriousness.
"Don't give him ideas," Serenya warned.
Karlen folded his newspaper.
"I still think you should have stayed in the service a little longer," he told Kian.
Kian raised an eyebrow. "Because of the basketball hoop?"
"Because the military might have taught you how to negotiate with children."
Rivan chuckled. "He wouldn't have survived a week commanding those three."
"I survived living with you," Kian replied.
Elara nearly spilled her tea.
Karlen's expression remained composed, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Careful, son. That's a decorated officer you're speaking to."
"A retired decorated officer," Kian corrected.
"Still decorated," Rivan said proudly.
Kian lifted his coffee in acknowledgment.
He had never regretted leaving the military, although he understood why his decision had surprised people. Between his father and grandfather, a career in uniform had seemed almost inevitable. He had trained, served for a short period, and learned enough to respect the profession without wanting to devote his entire life to it.
Business had offered him something different.
It had also allowed him to build something of his own.
And now, for the first time, that business was taking him beyond Tavora.
The garage was considerably quieter than the dining room.
Kian walked between two vehicles awaiting transport, checking the protective covering on one before stopping beside his motorcycle.
He had always preferred understanding how a machine worked rather than simply owning it. His interest had begun years earlier, when Rivan allowed him to help restore an old motorcycle that had spent more time collecting dust than running.
The project had taken months. His grandfather had insisted Kian learn to identify every component before he was allowed to replace anything.
It remained one of his favorite memories.
Kian crouched beside his motorcycle, examining a small mark near the rear assembly. It wasn't serious, but he made a note to have it checked before the vehicle was transported.
His phone vibrated.
Kalis: Everyone's here. Preston brought breakfast again.
Kian smiled faintly.
Kian: Did he bring enough for everyone?
Kalis: He brought enough for Preston.
That sounded about right.
Kian slipped his phone into his pocket, selected the car nearest the garage entrance, and headed toward the office.
The conference room was already occupied when he arrived.
Kalis stood beside the display screen, reviewing a schedule on his tablet. Kadin sat near the window with several documents spread before him, while Preston leaned back in his chair, finishing what appeared to be his second pastry.
"You're late," Preston announced.
Kian glanced at the clock.
"I'm four minutes early."
"Then I'm disappointed. I was hoping to complain."
"You do that without encouragement."
Kadin looked up from his papers. "Can we begin before he finds something else to eat?"
Preston gestured toward the empty box. "You're welcome."
"There's nothing left."
"Exactly."
Kian took his seat, allowing their exchange to continue for another moment before turning to Kalis.
"Where are we?"
"The Clearwater office is nearly ready," Kalis answered. "Equipment installation begins after the weekend, and the first group of transferred personnel will arrive ahead of the main team."
He changed the display to show the new office's layout.
"We've also received confirmation from the building management representatives at Pinnacle Tower. They want a final meeting once you're in Clearwater."
"Any changes to their requirements?"
"Two," Kadin answered. "They want additional coverage during overnight hours, and they're asking us to assume responsibility for coordinating visitor access across both the residential tower and commercial podium."
Kian leaned forward.
"That's broader than the original proposal."
"It is," Kadin agreed. "And their existing systems aren't consistent across the property. We'd need to evaluate how much equipment can be retained before quoting the final transition cost."
Preston set down his cup.
"Which is why they want us. Their current arrangement involves too many separate providers. They're looking for one company to coordinate everything."
"Looking for one company," Kadin repeated. "Not necessarily willing to pay what that requires."
Preston grinned. "You always make opportunity sound miserable."
"Someone has to read the numbers."
Kian listened as they worked through the proposed responsibilities.
Pinnacle Tower was an attractive contract, but he had no intention of accepting an arrangement that would leave his company responsible for failures outside its control. The building had multiple entrances, commercial tenants, private residences, and a rooftop helipad. Any security plan would need to account for those differences.
"Have they agreed to provide access to the existing system specifications?" he asked.
Kalis nodded. "Before the final meeting."
"Good. Kadin, review them when they arrive. I want to know what we're inheriting before anyone promises a transition date."
"Already planned."
"Preston, keep the conversation moving, but don't offer concessions on staffing until we've assessed the site."
Preston placed a hand over his chest.
"You wound me."
"You offered a client additional weekend coverage last month without telling anyone."
"And they loved it."
"Kalis didn't."
Kalis didn't look up from his tablet. "I considered resigning."
Preston laughed.
The easy familiarity between them had developed long before the company existed.
Kian had first encountered several members of his current team at eighteen, during the period when he frequently visited the barracks where his father served. What began as casual conversations had grown into friendships through training, shared responsibilities, and eventually his own brief military service.
They had seen him make mistakes, challenge people he shouldn't have challenged, and learn to recognize the difference between confidence and preparation.
When he established his security company, some had chosen to join him.
Others followed later.
Their decision still meant something to him.
"What's happening with the Tavora contracts?" he asked.
Kalis brought up the next schedule.
"The existing teams will remain in place. We're transferring experienced personnel, but not enough to compromise current operations. Emerson is overseeing the equipment inventory, and Rohen will coordinate the first Clearwater assignments."
"And Nico and Levi?"
"Finishing their current responsibilities before joining the second group."
Kian nodded.
The company had begun with relatively small protective-service contracts. Over time, it had expanded into commercial security, surveillance installation, and specialized protection for clients who needed more than guards stationed at entrances.
Their work in Tavora had included contracts connected to military facilities and government suppliers, although Kian had always been careful about the distinction between his family's reputation and his company's obligations.
His father had opened doors by introducing him to people willing to hear his proposals.
Winning their business had been Kian's responsibility.
Clearwater represented a different market altogether. Larger corporate clients, expensive residential developments, and an expanding commercial sector offered opportunities that would have been difficult to pursue from Tavora alone.
But he wasn't moving merely for Pinnacle Tower.
Even if those negotiations failed, the Clearwater expansion would continue.
"Then we're on schedule," Kian said. "Let's make sure it stays that way."
Kalis tapped his tablet, bringing up another document.
"One more thing. The residential arrangements."
Kian looked toward him.
"Any problems?"
"Not with the apartments themselves. The furnishing teams have confirmed the work on Floors Nineteen and Twenty is nearly complete. But we still need the final household lists before everyone arrives."
Preston straightened.
"Speaking of households, my wife wants to know whether we're allowed to make changes to the apartments."
"What kind of changes?" Kian asked.
"Furniture, mostly. She saw the photographs and decided the living room needed an entirely different arrangement."
Kadin gave him a sideways look.
"That's what you get for telling her she could decorate however she wanted."
"I didn't think she'd start before we got there."
Kalis shook his head.
"At least she's making decisions. My daughter has changed her mind about her bedroom four times this week."
"Four?" Preston asked.
"Five, if you count this morning. Apparently, the furniture she picked yesterday is no longer suitable."
Kian smiled.
"Sounds like she's excited."
"She's excited about the room," Kalis replied. "The move itself is another matter. She keeps asking whether she'll still be able to talk to her friends back home."
The humor softened slightly.
Kian understood the concern. The men had agreed to relocate with him, but they weren't the only people affected by the decision. Their wives, children, and other family members were leaving familiar homes and routines behind.
The apartments on Floors Nineteen and Twenty had been purchased with that in mind. Kian wanted the people who had worked alongside him for years to have somewhere comfortable to settle while the company established itself in Clearwater.
"Make sure everyone has the information they need before departure," he told Kalis. "School arrangements, transportation, anything that's still unclear. I don't want their families arriving and discovering something we could've handled beforehand."
Kalis nodded.
"I'll follow up with the households."
Preston grinned. "Does that include helping my wife move furniture?"
"No," Kian replied.
"Worth asking."
After the meeting, Kian remained in his office to review the latest updates from Pinnacle Tower's property manager.
The six apartments he owned occupied three consecutive floors near the top of the residential tower.
Nineteen A and B. Twenty A and B. Twenty-one A and B.
All six had been purchased outright months earlier, once the decision to relocate had become definite.
His own family would occupy Apartments 21A and 21B. Between the two units, there would be enough space for his parents, grandparents, and younger siblings without everyone having to share a single residence.
The apartments below were reserved for his trusted men and their families.
The arrangements had taken considerable planning. Seven men, several households, and the practical needs of their families required more thought than simply assigning names to doors. Some would share larger spaces, while others had different requirements depending on the number of people moving with them.
Kian had left the individual arrangements to be coordinated with the families themselves. He wanted everyone to have a say in the place they would be calling home.
The property manager had sent photographs of the completed work on Floor Twenty-one.
Kian examined the images, stopping at one of the living rooms.
The windows offered a broad view of Clearwater, with the city stretching toward the distant water. He could already imagine his grandfather standing there in the mornings, complaining about the traffic below while refusing to admit he liked the view.
His phone rang.
"Mr. Aldren," the property manager greeted him. "I wanted to confirm that the final furnishing work for your family's apartments is proceeding as scheduled."
"Good. And the access arrangements?"
"We'll have the resident credentials prepared before your arrival. The remaining documentation can be completed when you come in."
They discussed the apartments briefly before Kian asked about the building's uppermost floor.
"Any changes concerning the penthouse?"
"Not that we've been informed of. Floor Twenty-two remains under contract."
"Cortell Holdings?"
"Yes."
Kian leaned back.
He had been interested in the penthouse from the beginning.
Occupying the highest residential level would have provided an additional measure of privacy for his family, particularly with the helipad located above. Combined with his existing apartments, it would have allowed him to keep their living arrangements concentrated at the top of the tower.
The security advantages appealed to him, although he understood that owning the penthouse would not give him unrestricted authority over shared building facilities.
Unfortunately, someone else had secured the property first.
"If its status changes, let me know," he said.
"Of course."
After ending the call, Kian closed the property photographs.
He could afford to wait.
His family already had a home waiting for them, and the others would soon be settling into theirs. Floor Twenty-two would be a welcome addition if it ever became available, but he had no intention of disrupting the move over a property he didn't own.
As for Pinnacle Tower's security contract, that would be decided through negotiations with management, not through his personal property holdings.
Kian returned to his work.
By the time he reached home that evening, the triplets had turned the driveway into a basketball court.
Mae stood beneath the hoop holding a notebook. Elijah was attempting shots from increasingly unreasonable distances, while Davi sat on a low wall, watching his brother miss.
Kian had barely stepped out of his car when Elijah spotted him.
"Kian! You're playing!"
"Am I?"
"Yes!"
"I don't remember agreeing."
Mae hurried toward him. "We made teams."
"Without asking me?"
"You're on my team."
Elijah immediately objected.
"No, he's on mine!"
Davi slid off the wall.
"He should be on his own team."
Kian looked at him. "Against all three of you?"
Davi nodded.
"That's not fair."
"Because you'll lose?" Elijah asked.
Kian stopped.
Behind him, Karlen emerged from the house carrying a bottle of water.
"Oh, that was a mistake," his father murmured.
Kian slowly removed his jacket.
"Who said I was going to lose?"
Mae grinned.
Ten minutes later, the competition had become far more serious than any game involving seven-year-olds had a right to be.
Kian had agreed to play against all three siblings, with Karlen acting as referee. Rivan joined them shortly afterward, although he spent more time disputing his son's decisions than watching the game.
"That was a foul," Rivan declared.
Karlen shook his head. "No, it wasn't."
"He blocked a child."
"It's basketball."
"He's twice her height!"
"More than twice," Kian corrected.
Mae took advantage of the distraction to steal the ball.
"Hey!"
She sprinted toward the hoop, laughing as Elijah and Davi scrambled to get out of her way.
Her shot missed, but Elijah caught the rebound and threw it upward.
The ball struck the rim, bounced against the backboard, and dropped through.
All three children screamed.
Kian stared at the hoop.
"That was luck."
"A point is a point," Karlen said.
"You didn't even see the shot."
"I saw enough."
From the patio, Serenya laughed.
Elara had joined her with a plate of fruit and was enthusiastically supporting whichever side appeared to be winning.
The score remained close until Davi announced that the next basket should be worth three points.
"Why?" Kian demanded.
"Because we're losing."
"That's not how basketball works."
"It can be."
"No."
Davi looked toward their grandfather.
Rivan considered the matter.
"I think the boy has a point."
Kian turned toward him in disbelief.
"You spent thirty years telling people to follow rules."
"And now I'm retired."
Elijah nearly collapsed laughing.
Kian shook his head, took possession of the ball, and prepared to end the argument with a basket of his own.
He was halfway toward the hoop when Mae stepped directly into his path.
"Kian!"
He stopped instinctively.
"What?"
"Look!"
She pointed behind him.
Kian turned.
Nothing was there.
By the time he realized what she'd done, Davi had stolen the ball and passed it to Elijah.
Elijah threw it toward the hoop.
The ball bounced once against the rim.
Then dropped through.
The triplets erupted into celebration.
Kian stared at them.
"That was a distraction."
Mae folded her arms triumphantly. "You looked."
"Because you told me to."
"You didn't have to."
Karlen blew an imaginary whistle.
"Game over."
"Absolutely not," Kian said.
Rivan was laughing so hard he had to sit down.
Serenya called from the patio, "Kian, they're seven!"
"And they've committed at least four violations!"
Elara wiped at the corner of her eye.
"Imagine losing to children after all that training."
Kian pointed toward his grandfather.
"You're supposed to be on my side."
"I am. That's why I'm telling you to accept defeat with dignity."
The triplets gathered around him, chanting that they'd won.
Kian finally raised both hands.
"Fine. You win."
Mae beamed.
Elijah punched the air.
Davi studied him suspiciously.
"You're going to want another game tomorrow."
Kian smiled.
"Of course."
Davi sighed. "I knew it."
Later, as the family gathered on the patio, their conversation drifted toward Clearwater.
Elijah wanted to know whether their new home would have a basketball court. Mae was concerned about where she would keep her books. Davi asked whether they would be able to see the ocean from their windows.
Kian answered what he could, while Serenya reminded them that there would be plenty of time to explore once they arrived.
For all their excitement, the children had never lived anywhere else.
Neither had Kian, apart from the periods he'd spent away during his military service and business travels.
He looked toward the house, where familiar lights glowed through the windows.
His grandfather had lived here for decades. His father had grown up within these walls. Kian had learned to ride a bicycle along the driveway, taken apart his first engine in the garage, and spent countless evenings listening to stories about military life.
Soon, most of their belongings would be gone.
He would miss the place.
But he was looking forward to what came next.
It was nearly ten when Kian returned to his room.
A message from Kalis waited on his phone.
The family's travel arrangements had been confirmed, along with the departure schedule for the first group of company personnel. The final Pinnacle Tower security meeting would take place after his arrival in Clearwater.
He reviewed the itinerary and sent a brief acknowledgment.
Everything was moving forward.
A soft knock sounded at his door.
"Come in."
Davi appeared, holding a small toy car.
Kian glanced at it.
"What's that?"
"For you."
"Why?"
"So you don't forget your cars when we move."
Kian accepted it with a smile.
"I don't think that's going to happen."
Davi considered him for a moment.
"You forgot your basketball skills today."
Kian stared at him.
From somewhere down the hallway, Elijah burst into laughter.
Davi immediately ran.
Kian shook his head, still smiling, and placed the toy car beside his phone.
Outside, Tavora continued through another ordinary evening. Cars passed along the distant roads, lights shone from neighboring houses, and the familiar sounds of the city drifted through his open window.
In a matter of days, his family would leave the country they had called home for generations.
Kian had contracts to pursue, a company to expand, and an entirely new life waiting for them in Clearwater.
He had no reason to imagine that anything beyond the usual uncertainties of business and relocation lay ahead.
For now, the future looked promising.
And he intended to make the most of it.