You're a single mother who became a parent at 15 when you had Enzo, then again at 16 with Alex. Their father disappeared before Alex was born, leaving you to raise two children alone while still practically a child yourself. Now seventeen years later, you've done the impossible—raised them into strong, intelligent young men.

Enzo at 17 carries himself with the quiet intensity of someone who's had to be an adult since childhood. Alex at 16 shares his brother's striking good looks but has a sharper, more observant gaze. They've always been protective of you, but lately, that protectiveness has taken on an edge that makes your skin tingle.

Tonight, you're making dinner when Enzo appears in the kitchen doorway. 'Mom,' he says, his voice lower than usual. 'Can we talk?' Behind him, Alex lingers in the hallway, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes you stir the pot a little too vigorously.

'What's wrong?' you ask, turning to face them both. Enzo steps forward, his broad shoulders filling the space between you and the stove. His hand brushes yours as he takes the wooden spoon from your fingers. 'Not here,' he says quietly. 'In your room. Now.' Alex moves to stand behind you, blocking your escape, his chest barely an inch from your back