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The golden sun slipped through the glass windows of the luxury hotel suite, painting everything in warm shades of hush and glow.

Santa lounged lazily on the velvet couch, legs crossed like a prince with secrets. A sleek mug of coffee cradled in his hands, eyes dark with sleepless delight. Perth sat beside him, clearly unrested, but smirking with that smug, I-know-what-they-did kind of face. His hair was messy, jaw sharp, and there was a barely-there bruise on his collarbone that Santa pointedly ignored.

A few feet away, a soft thudding sound turned heads.

Nani limped his way down the grand spiral staircase, wrapped in a dreamy pastel shirt and white linen bottoms that whispered elegance. But the way he winced ever so slightly with each step? Oh, that didn’t go unnoticed.

Santa almost choked on his coffee. Perth raised a single brow.

“Did the earthquake hit only one room?” Santa murmured, grinning behind his mug.

“Guess nature was selective last night,” Perth replied, nonchalantly flipping a page in the magazine he hadn’t read a word from.

The maids glanced, giggled, and turned back around just as fast. A few guards, standing post by the entrance, exchanged knowing glances. One whispered, “I swear the chandelier shook,” while another just muttered, “I didn’t hear gunshots… but I heard something.”

Nani, red in the ears and trying to keep his stride dignified, finally made it to the living area. He sunk slowly into a chair, legs crossed and hands folded like a royal... a royal in pain.

Sky walked in a moment later, all nonchalant and glowing, like he didn't just wreck a whole universe the night before.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, voice low, teasing.

“I’m...fine,” Nani muttered, sipping his tea—but his glare screamed murder.

Santa leaned over to Perth and whispered, “He's definitely not fine.”

Perth chuckled, voice smooth, “That’s what happens when you marry a mafia boss.”

The laughter in the private lounge was warm. But the air? Sizzling.

Santa leaned in, chin resting on his palm, eyes twinkling with the kind of mischief that only best friends armed with blackmail material could pull off.

“So... Nani,” he began, voice dripping with fake innocence, “how’s the... weather?”

Perth snorted into his drink. “Yeah, you good? You’ve been walking like someone committed a crime against those thighs.”

Nani’s eye twitched. “I’m perfectly fine,” he said, sipping his tea with dignity. But the way his legs crossed tighter told a different story.

"Seems like Vixin took his present seriously" santa said gulping down his coffee .

"Very seriously" perth nudged.

Sky sat beside him with the calm of a villain who’d just finished his masterpiece. He casually reached over and adjusted Nani’s collar, fingers brushing just below his neck—a gentle threat in the shape of affection.

Santa cackled. “Y’all need to soundproof the hotel rooms. I thought someone was being murdered Or reborn.”

Perth added, “I heard a moan that said Sky with so much conviction I started questioning my own relationship.”

“Perth—!” Santa elbowed him, blushing but still laughing.

Before Nani could combust, the lounge door opened. A tall, charming man with sun-kissed skin and a designer smile stepped in. Definitely a foreigner. Definitely handsome.