Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

“Auntie and Aunt Molly have always looked out for me, and Milka's been my guide through everything. I don't even know how to thank you all, but I really am so grateful.” Anya lifted her teacup, proposing a toast-tea instead of wine, but the sentiment was the same, heartfelt and sincere.

To the rest of the family, Mia and Molly were still “the kids”—the cherished daughters, never quite grown-up in their parents' eyes. But tonight, as they watched Anya, both wore the gentle pride of elders, looking after the family's youngest with a warmth that only comes from years of shared memories.

They clinked their teacups with hers, and Milka followed suit, her eyes soft as she watched Anya-so much like her own younger self: open-hearted, simple, and full of hope.

Just as the cups were about to meet, a tiny hand thrust in a sippy cup labeled “Sweetie.” “Wait for me! There's still me!" the littlest one piped up.

Molly laughed, raising her son's bottle. "And mine, too—don't leave out my little dragon."

Mia smiled at Anya. “Anya, remember what I always say: don't let anyone push you around. If you ever feel overwhelmed, just come home and cry to me. I'll fight your battles for you!"

Molly took a sip of the tea Anya had poured. "And if anyone dares to badmouth you, believe me, your aunt will not let it go."

Milka finished her tea and set the cup down. "Anya, I don't know much more than you—just have a few extra years of work under my belt. If you ever run into something confusing at work, just ask me. If you're thinking about switching jobs or see a company you like, let me know anytime."

Auntie, Aunt Molly, Milka.” She was growing up, ready to handle some

headhunter, right? Does that mean if I want to poach

are you trying to

put on her most dramatic voice. "The CEO of

sister a look. “Milka

our dad's still the chairman. Technically, Andre's just

burst out laughing. “Dream on, Molly. Sure, you can

work your magic, get

infectious. “Only if Mars falls for it. We've been apart for ages—my tricks don't work on him anymore. If you want Andre,

with wide, curious eyes. “Auntie, why are you trying to take my daddy? You

“And who does our house

this. "To

who does your Anya

out his lip, thinking hard.