Page 11 of Before Dawn

Dill:Arnoldo, don’t come to my house; I don’t want to see you.

Reyes:I love you too, and I’m still stopping by.

Dill:Wouldn’t be Arnoldo Reyes if you didn’t.

Ro:i love you, Arnoldo.

Dill:Is this your attempt to get attention?

Ro:fuck off.

Reyes:Yes, Ronan. I love you too.

Ro:great. just checking and including myself.

Alex:what about me? do i notdeserve love?

Luci:do not enable them, Alexander.

I chuckled at the banter, knowing that beneath the jests lay genuine affection among us.

We met in university, thrown together as roommates by chance. At first, it was chaos—Dillon, the quiet thinker; Ronan, the heart; Arnoldo, the blunt realist; Lucio, the ghost who barely spoke; and Alex, the self-appointed ‘dad’ of the group. And me? The adaptable one. The perfectionist. The one who never said no. Somehow, that messy start turned into something unshakable—brotherhood.

I pushed the silk sheets aside as sunlight poured through the windows of my penthouse at Central Park Tower. Every corner was filled with white and cream—from the marble countertops to the thick rugs underfoot—offering rare moments of calm in a life that never slowed. The view of Central Park shifted with the seasons, always changing yet somehow constant.

After a quick shower, I threw on a white shirt and jeans, running a hand through my hair as I moved through the kitchen. The cool marble under my fingertips helped steady me for a moment, clearing my head before the day began.

Just as I was about to leave, my phone buzzed—Dillon asking if I could stop by later. I sent a quick reply and headed out, ready to see Alex.

“Good morning, Mara,” I greeted chirpily, my face breaking into a bright smile.

Mara Xander-Williams—Alexander’s wife, Dillon’s sister, and a surrogate sister to the rest of us.

“Mikkel!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up as she walked over to me. “I had no idea you were coming today! How are you?”

“I thought Alex would’ve told you, but I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m great,” she said, her hand instinctively resting on her baby bump.

“Thought Alex would’ve told you what?” Alex asked, stepping into the room.

Alexander Williams—a tall, handsome figure with a warm smile that reached his dark brown eyes.

“Told Mara I was coming over.”

He shrugged, heading for the fridge.

“Want anything, angel?” His voice was soft with affection, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only person in the room.

She shook her head gently. “No, thank you. I’ll make lunch after my nap.”

“I’ll make lunch. Get some rest,” he replied, his tone firm yet tender.

She rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her lips. “Pregnancy doesn’t mean incapability.”

“True,” he agreed, his expression softening with a gentle smile, “but I’m here to take any and every form of pressure off you. Take your nap.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, but there was a hint of pleasure in her voice. “But Alex, I ca-”

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