Adela Ludwig spoke up. “Alright, let’s head inside and have dinner.”

Ivy let out a quiet sigh of relief. She had known it—coming home would mean a never-ending stream of headaches. Sure enough, she’d barely stepped off the plane and already had to deal with two rounds of family drama.

The entire family filed into the main house.

At the top of the living room stairs sat Danny, hands resting on his cane, his face stern and imposing. He’d witnessed everything that happened in the courtyard, but frankly, such disgraceful antics weren’t worth his time to intervene. Let them embarrass themselves inside the family walls if they must—but once everyone was inside, he finally spoke up.

“The Ludwig family has a reputation to uphold. Make a scene at home if you must, but if anyone dares pull this kind of stunt in public, you’ll be the laughingstock of the entire city. I don’t care if you’re my son or my grandson—do it outside, and you can consider yourself banned from this house.”

His warning was aimed squarely at both Jamison and Micah, reminding them to know their limits. He was willing to let this slide once—just this once.

But Jamison was never one to back down from a fight, no matter who was across from him—even if it was his own father, Danny Ludwig.

So as soon as Danny finished speaking, Jamison shot back, stoking the fire, “I wouldn’t have come back at all if Mom hadn’t ambushed me at the airport.”

Ivy’s heart jumped. She turned to stare at him. This guy! Was he really trying to send his father into an early grave? Ivy imagined herself in Danny’s shoes—if she had a son like Jamison, her blood pressure would be through the roof every single day. No wonder Thad had said over the phone that it was a miracle anyone could get along with Jamison—his personality made it nearly impossible.

Yet when she thought about how he treated her…

Aside from their rocky first encounters—when he’d been insufferable, even cruel—in the time since their whirlwind marriage, he’d been nothing but attentive and generous, going out of his way to care for her. How did these two completely contradictory sides coexist so seamlessly in one person?

The moment Jamison finished speaking, Danny’s eyes flashed with anger. Without a word, he hurled his cane straight at his son.

Ivy’s reflexes kicked in—she grabbed Jamison and yanked him out of the way just in time.

The cane crashed to the floor, sending a jolt of fear through everyone in the room. Ivy’s heart was pounding; Jamison’s back was still injured and he’d been forcing himself to hold it together all this time. If that cane had hit him, things could have gone from bad to worse. Thank goodness she was quick.

“You okay?” She kept her eyes fixed on him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jamison knew exactly what she meant. He flashed a crooked smile. “I’m fine. Quick reflexes, huh?”

She’d grabbed his right arm, avoiding his injured left shoulder—he appreciated her attention.

Adela Ludwig pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady herself. She hurried to defuse the tension. “Alright, enough! Let’s eat before you two start another fight. Honestly, you two can’t be in the same room without clashing. You’ll be the death of me.”

“It’s your fault,” Danny grumbled at his wife. “You’ve spoiled him rotten since he was little. Look at him now—completely out of control!”

Adela wasn’t about to take that lying down. She shot back, “Oh please, he’s exactly like you! Don’t forget how you used to drive your own father up the wall.”

Danny was left speechless, a rare defeat.

Standing beside Jamison, Ivy held onto his arm, and for a moment she could almost picture their future together—a lifetime of bickering, laughter, and chaos.

After the showdown, the whole family moved to the dining room for dinner. Ivy and Jamison made their way to the table. As Jamison reached to pull out his chair, Ivy beat him to it, quietly helping him sit.

His injury was still a secret, and Ivy knew he didn’t want anyone else to find out, so she covered for him in every way she could. They worked in perfect sync, not needing to say a word.

Noticing her thoughtfulness, Jamison couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection. The warmth in his eyes was unmistakable as he looked at her.

“Ivy, go serve everyone some soup,” Carla suddenly called out, her tone leaving no doubt this was a command, not a request.