Chapter 425 - 425: Arrival! [FIXED!][01/07!]

Kyle extended his hand, and Anthony took it firmly. The handshake was warm, solid—the kind that spoke of genuine respect rather than performative politeness. Kyle's grip was confident but not crushing, a measured gesture that communicated equality without arrogance. Anthony's palm was calloused, the hand of a man who had worked with his hands despite his success.

"Tony," Kyle said, a small smile playing on his lips. "Good to see you again."

Behind them, Michelina appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. Her dark hair was pulled back, and her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the kitchen. Her eyebrow arched at the nickname.

"Tony?" she repeated, a hint of amusement in her voice. "He only lets his friends call him that."

Kyle glanced at her, then back at Anthony. "I hope that's alright."

Anthony chuckled, his broad shoulders relaxing. "It's more than alright. It means you've earned it."

Michelina's smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Then you must be special. He doesn't let just anyone in."

Kyle shrugged, modest but pleased. "I try."

"That's my perfect wife, Michelina... Michelina, this is Kyle," Anthony quickly introduced them.

Anthony peered past Kyle, his eyes scanning the group behind him. The women had gathered, their presence filling the doorway with warmth and energy. Ella with her tattoos and defiant posture. Cassandra with her calm, maternal grace. Jane with her shy smile, clutching her small handbag. Jasmine clutching her dress, her eyes wide with wonder at the beautiful townhouse.

Anthony's brow furrowed. "So… you brought your sisters along?"

Kyle laughed—a genuine, surprised laugh that echoed through the foyer. "Sisters? No. Not exactly."

Anthony's confusion deepened. "Then who are they?"

Kyle glanced back at the women, their faces a mix of amusement and expectation. He turned to Anthony, a knowing smile on his face. "It's a long story."

Anthony grinned, his earlier nervousness fading completely. He clapped a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "It's a good thing we have all night, then."

"That's right," Kyle said, nodding. "All night."

Anthony stepped aside, gesturing grandly toward the living room. "Come in. Make yourselves at home."

Kyle turned to the women. "I'll be in the living room with Tony. You all go meet Michelina."

Cassandra nodded, already steering the group toward the kitchen. The smell of roasting meat was impossible to ignore—rich, savory, wafting through the house like an invitation. Rosemary and garlic and something sweet.

Jane's stomach growled audibly, a low rumble that seemed to echo in the hallway.

Ella caught the sound and smirked. "Hungry?"

Jane's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "I can't help it. It smells amazing."

Jasmine tugged Jane's sleeve, her small voice earnest. "Me too. I'm hungry. My tummy is making noises."

"Then we should go find the food," Cassandra said, her voice warm and reassuring. She placed a gentle hand on Jasmine's shoulder.

Michelina appeared, her smile genuine and welcoming. Her eyes swept over the group with maternal warmth. "You must be the family my husband mentioned. Come, come. The kitchen is this way. I have plenty for everyone."

The women followed her, their chatter fading as they disappeared into the warmth of the Greenberg home. The sound of laughter and the clinking of dishes drifted back.

Anthony watched them go, then turned to Kyle, his expression a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

Kyle smiled, his eyes following the women until they were out of sight. "You have no idea."

Kyle settled into the worn leather armchair across from Tony. The study was warm, lined with bookshelves and family photographs, the kind of room that invited honesty and vulnerability. A fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls and illuminating the rich wood paneling that surrounded them.

Tony handed him a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the firelight, glowing like liquid gold. "You look like you need this."

Kyle accepted it, swirling the glass gently. The aroma of oak and smoke rose to meet him. "Thanks."

"So," Tony said, settling into his own chair with the ease of a man who had spent countless evenings in this exact spot, "you said it's a long story."

Kyle took a breath. He had thought about this moment, rehearsed it in his head countless times. But now, sitting across from a man who had shown him nothing but kindness, the words felt heavier than expected. He had to be honest with the people he wanted to keep close.

"I'm in a polygamous relationship," Kyle said. The words came out steady, measured. "All those women—Cassandra, Ella, Jane—they're my partners. All of them."

Tony's eyebrows rose. He didn't interrupt. Didn't flinch. Just listened with the patience of a man who had learned not to judge.

"And Jasmine," Kyle continued, "she's the girl I'm planning to adopt as my daughter. She's been through a lot. She needs a family, and I want to give her one."

Tony set his glass down, processing the information. His expression wasn't judgmental—just genuinely curious. "All of them?" Tony asked. "At the same time?"

"Yes."

"And they're… okay with it?"

"They are," Kyle said. "It took time. It took a lot of conversations, a lot of boundaries being set and respected. But they are."

Tony leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I have to admit, I didn't see that coming."

"Most people don't."

"But it works?"

Kyle nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It works. It's not always easy. There are challenges, just like any relationship. But we make it work. We communicate. We choose each other, every day."

Tony was quiet for a moment, then he smiled—a warm, genuine expression. "You know, I never would have guessed. You seem so… normal."

Kyle laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. "I get that a lot."

Tony picked up his glass again, taking a slow sip. "I'm not judging, Kyle. I'm just surprised. My wife is enough for me. I had my playboy phase when I was younger, but that's long behind me."

"I figured. You have that settled energy."

"But I'm curious," Tony said, leaning forward. "How does something like that even start?"

Kyle considered the question. He couldn't mention the system. Couldn't mention the wealth, the power, the strange circumstances that had brought them all together. So he kept it simple, grounding it in what felt true.

"It started with one person," Kyle said. "Then another. And another. It wasn't planned. It just… happened. People came into my life, and I didn't push them away."

Tony nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful. "Life has a way of doing that."

"It does. You can't always control who you love."

Tony swirled his whiskey, staring into the amber depths. His voice softened with memory. "You want to know something, Kyle? I met my wife when I was young. I was a mess— working too much, convinced I was destined for greatness without doing anything to earn it."

Kyle leaned forward, genuinely interested. "What changed?"

"Michelina happened." Tony smiled at the memory, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "She walked into a bar where I was trying to impress some friends with my 'charm.' She took one look at me and told me I was full of myself. In those exact words."

Kyle laughed. "That's bold."

"She's always been bold. She's never been afraid to tell me the truth, even when I didn't want to hear it." Tony shook his head, still smiling. "I asked her out that night. She said no."

"Ouch."

"Then she said yes a week later. Then she said no again. Then yes again." Tony chuckled. "She made me work for it. I had to prove I was worth her time. I had to show her I wasn't just another guy looking for a quick fling."

"And you did."

"I married her, didn't I?" Tony's eyes softened, his voice dropping. "That was thirty-eight years ago. And I've loved her every single day since. Not always perfectly, not always easily. But every day."

Kyle felt something shift in his chest. "That's… beautiful."

"It's real. That's what matters." Tony leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his voice earnest. "Love isn't a fairy tale, Kyle. It's not always easy. It's not always romantic. Sometimes it's boring. Sometimes it's frustrating. Sometimes you want to strangle each other. But if you choose it, every single day, that's what makes it real."

Kyle absorbed the words. He had never heard love described that way. So grounded and truth be told, realistic.

"How do you know?" Kyle asked, his voice quiet. "How do you know it's real?"

Tony smiled, his eyes warm. "Because you keep choosing it. Even when it's hard. Even when you're angry. Even when you'd rather walk away. You stay. You fight. You choose. That's what love is, Kyle. It's not a feeling—it's a decision."

Kyle was quiet for a long moment. The fire crackled. The whiskey sat warm in his hand.

"I don't think I've ever had that," Kyle admitted. "... until now that is."

Tony's expression softened. "You will attract more poeple. You have a good heart, Kyle. I can see it. Those women you brought here? They didn't come because they're afraid of you. They came because they love you. And you love them."

Kyle nodded slowly. "I think I'm starting to understand that."

"Good." Tony raised his glass. "To love. In all its forms."

Kyle raised his own. "To love."

They drank.

Outside, laughter drifted from the kitchen—the women, the warmth of a family that had welcomed them without reservation.

Kyle already had an idea of love but this was his way of finding out what Tony's version was, they shared a very similar view when it came to it.