Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance
Chapter 633

In the quiet suburbs, the O'Connor family found themselves in an unusual situation. Wesley had been taken away and was now under the strict watch of their most trusted. Despite the turmoil, the family gathered silently in the dining room. Anya bit her lip, still feeling the sting of Chad's earlier reprimand. She worried about another lecture, especially since she was the only one who knew where the "beehive" was hidden.

"Maybe it's time for a fresh start, eh?" Hansen suggested, breaking the silence. The events of the day had shocked the entire household, revealing that even Leo, often underestimated, had crucial information that the others missed. No one responded.

"Mia, darling?" Hansen called out.

"Yes, Dad?" Mia responded sweetly, her innocence belying her formidable strength.

"How long have you been training to throw a punch like that?" Hansen asked, bemused by his daughter-in-law's prowess.

"Not too long, not twenty years yet. Started back in kindergarten," Mia replied, her eyes twinkling.

Hansen's voice softened, "Just remember, if anyone in this house upsets you, you tell us. No need to keep it bottled up."

Mia nodded, "Don't worry, Dad. I promise I won't lay a hand on you guys."

Turning to his daughter, Molly, Hansen asked, "We haven't seen each other in fifteen years. What have you been up to?"

Molly cleared her throat, "Well, I guess it's a mix of good parenting, solid genetics, and a lot of hard work."

Hansen chuckled, "Marrying into the Byrne family, huh? Maybe it's best you don't come back too often. We might not have enough room for your achievements." Molly swore, "Dad, I could be mad at the world, but never at you."

"Your real dad might disagree," Hansen joked.

Then, addressing the youngest, Anya, Hansen inquired, "Why are you always poking around beehives?"

Anya replied with a childlike innocence, "I just wanted to taste the honey before anyone else."

"Sweetheart, we can afford any honey you want. No need for you to go hunting for beehives," Hansen said gently.

"I promise, Grandpa," Anya vowed, her eyes sincere.

Hansen's heart went out to his grandchildren, especially Leo, who had to deal with his formidable sisters.

"Leo..." Hansen began.

"Grandpa, let's just say I'm at the bottom of the family pyramid. No expectations, please?" Leo interjected, seeking refuge in humor.

"Agreed," Hansen said, the room filled with a newfound peace.

The next morning, as dawn broke through the grey skies, the O'Connor family stirred from their sleep. Andre, the patriarch, had returned from his business trip.

The household was already bustling as Andre made his way to his bedroom. Pushing the door open, he was greeted by the familiar scent of home-a blend of baby powder and warmth. His wife, Mia, and their son were sleeping peacefully, an image of tranquility. Andre gently adjusted Mia's sleeping position and took a moment to admire her, remembering the strength in those delicate hands from the day before.

Mia woke to find Andre beside her, a smile spreading across her face as she embraced him. "Honey, you're back," she murmured, her voice filled with affection. Andre chuckled, "Go back to sleep, it's still early."

At eight o'clock, their son's usual morning cries were halted by Andre's voice. For the first time, the day started not with tears but with laughter.

Andre, embracing fatherhood, joked with his son, "Let's see if you're as stinky as your mom claims. Are you avoiding baths again?"

Their son, now giggling and dribbling, was a testament to the joy and chaos of the O'Connor family life.

Andre was back, and Mia, in her typical morning hustle, had him bundle up their son and whisk him off to the bathroom for a little bottom cleaning and a shower. "Honey, can we talk about something?" Mia, ever the clever one, tried to steer the conversation to safer waters.

But Andre was having none of it, cutting straight to the chase, "Nope, we're not discussing it."

Their little guy, oblivious to the brewing storm and gleefully splashing water droplets onto his dad's shoulders, had no idea mom was about to be in the hot seat.

After the bath, the father-son duo went about getting dressed.

"Where's Wesley locked up?"

Mia, sulking, responded, "I haven't the foggiest."

Andre, casting a glance at his pouting wife, said, "I didn't leave a bunch of buffoons at home for security. They're not meant to stand around like garden gnomes when trouble comes knocking. You taking matters into your own hands yesterday made them all start questioning their worth, showing off like you're the new sheriff in town."