Flash Marriage: In His Eyes Chapter 209: Cat and Dogs

–Damon–

I was dreaming—feeding my son because he was hungry. His little hands reached out for , and his whimper filled the air. But when I looked down... my arms were empty. He wasn’t there. The sudden void startled awake. For a mont, I just lay there, disoriented. Was it one of those strange lucid dreams? Or so twisted form of astral projection? Lately, I’ve been thinking too much about the baby—maybe because it’s the first ti Livana’s not here.

But when I lifted my head, I realized the cries weren’t from my dream. My son was actually crying, his soft wails echoing through the room. He probably missed his mother. I pushed myself up, groggy and half-asleep, about to reach for him—when I froze.

Soone was already there.

A woman, her fair skin glowing faintly under the dim light, her silk robe a deep peacock blue. She was cradling my son. My breath hitched.

"Liva," I breathed, grinning as relief and disbelief surged through . I moved closer, brushing aside the curtains before pulling her into a hug. "Am I still dreaming?"

"You’re not," she murmured, nudging softly as I held her tighter.

She moved to the bed, our son nestled in her arms, and sat down gracefully. I pulled the duvet back for her, watching as she leaned against the headboard and began to feed him.

I yawned, the exhaustion settling in again, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She glanced up at , her lips curving into that faint, knowing smile.

"You didn’t sleep well?"

"You weren’t here," I muttered, my voice heavier than I intended.

"You can go back to sleep," she said casually, her tone calm, nurturing, like the storm she left behind didn’t exist.

Instead, I lay down beside her, close enough to feel her warmth, and tucked myself near the edge of the bed. My hand brushed her thigh, my head resting just above her lap. I closed my eyes for a second, breathing her in.

"What took you so long?" I murmured.

"It was just a night away, my love."

Her voice—soft, patient, and laced with quiet amusent—made my chest tighten. She called love, and just like that, my dark, restless heart fluttered with ridiculous butterflies. I didn’t think I was capable of such things... but when it ca to Livana, even a man like becos undone.

"Can I... suck the other side?" I teased with a grin, half-asleep and wholly shaless.

She chuckled. "No. That’s for Sky as well."

"Damn it," I muttered, sitting up. "That little rascal takes everything."

Livana laughed softly. God, that sound—it felt like ho.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"I ate a little on my way here," she said, adjusting Sky. "But yeah, I’m still starving."

I leaned down and kissed her lips gently. "Stay," I whispered.

Then, I did my usual routine—headed to the kitchen, where Chef Wally had already prepared breakfast. I reheated it, arranged everything neatly on a tray, and brought it upstairs. She had already placed our son back in the crib. I peeked over, amused to see him in fresh clothes again.

"Babies are so spoiled," I joked. "I wanna be your baby too."

"Nah," she smirked. "You’d drain dry in a day. Do you want hospitalized?"

I grinned. "Kidding. I’ll always be your lover, your husband—" I brushed my lips against her hair. "And your King."

She rolled her eyes, but I caught her chin and kissed her again—slowly, deeply. Her hum vibrated against my mouth. When I pulled back, her gaze lingered on , dazed and dazzling, like sothing out of a fever dream.

"I fucking love you," I whispered.

"I love fucking you," she replied, deadpan.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Later, I left the room with my phone, intending to go to the gym, but changed my mind. My office awaited—a space Livana herself had arranged for in her mansion. She thought of everything, even down to the smallest details.

I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and scanned through the latest company reports. David was handling most of the business side efficiently. We had expanded into more branches, diversified our investnts. Yet, the damages to our assets had cost us nearly three months of inco—almost a billion lost.

I massaged my temple, exhaustion creeping in. I could pull all-nighters without flinching, but taking care of a baby was... a different kind of war. I wondered how Damien and Laura managed it.

Still, my priority was my wife. Always her. But if I screwed up even slightly with our son, I’d face sothing worse than failure—Livana’s silent treatnt. And that, that, was lethal. Though, admittedly... she looked devastatingly sexy when she was angry.

A knock pulled from my thoughts. Jane stood at the doorway.

"Hi, Jane," I greeted, offering a smile. She didn’t return it. Figures.

"Co in."

She stepped forward and set an envelope on my desk.

"What’s this?" I asked, opening it. Inside were photos—grainy shots of the periter outside our mansion, the Braxton estate, and the Blackwell compound. I frowned. "What are these?"

"Spies," she said simply. "They’re monitoring each family’s movents. Top agents from various international intelligence organizations."

I leaned back, amused. "Okay. I’ll have the Shadows take care of it."

"No," she said sharply. "If one of them dies by our hand, they’ll take you hostage."

"Hostage?" I chuckled.

Her eyes narrowed. "Rember Istanbul? It won’t just be local police this ti. It’ll be Interpol. Maybe even higher."

I exhaled, smiling faintly. She had that sharp edge of brilliance—calculated, strategic. A mind that reminded of Livana’s.

She sighed and rubbed her temple. "Livana’s already cleaning up the evidence. Quietly."

I arched a brow. "So you’re telling the billion-dollar loss was because of them?"

Jane nodded.

"Because I married my gorgeous wife?"

"Yes," she said, a hint of humor tugging at her lips. "Because you’re involved with her. But what can I say? The two of you together are unstoppable." She smiled faintly. "I’ll go check on Little Sky."

I nodded as she left.

When I looked back down, the photos seed to multiply—faces, nas, origins, affiliations. Every one of them tracked, analyzed, exposed.

I chuckled under my breath. How the hell did Jane pull this off?

Livana’s brilliance. My Shadows’ reach.

Together, we were an empire.

And if the world wanted war—then the world would burn before it ever touched my family.

–Jane–

I let Livana do whatever she needed to do. It’s my first ti holding a baby—my godchild, Sky—and good heavens, this little creature is sothing else. Those eyes... bright and knowing, like he’s already aware of his place in this world. When he yawned and looked at with that half-lidded expression, I almost lted. Almost. I don’t easily surrender to softness, but there was sothing dangerously disarming about him.

I glanced at Livana, who was, as usual, eating again. She’d gained a bit of weight—beautifully, if I’m being honest. The extra softness curved around her body like art sculpted with intent. But she’s disciplined, that woman. Even in indulgence, there’s control. Every gesture of hers is asured, her composure unshakable. She might’ve looked fuller, but it was only by an inch—an elegant inch she allowed herself to have.

"You look gorgeous, by the way," I said suddenly, my tone light, though my eyes observed her the way a strategist studies a map.

Livana laughed softly. "You could have the sa body if you had a baby too."

"No, thanks. I’m not interested in pregnancy. I already have cats."

She laughed again, that effortless, lodic sound that could disguise how ruthless she is beneath the smile.

"Yes, whatever," she said as she neatly arranged the plates onto the tray. Then she walked toward the balcony, opened the doors to let in the breeze, turned off the air conditioner, and switched on the ceiling fan. Every move precise. Even air obeys her will.

"Haven’t Logan made a move on you yet?" she asked, not even turning back.

"That self-centered bastard?" I scoffed. "If he ever makes a move, I’ll punch him again."

Livana chuckled, amused, just as quick knocks ca from the door.

"I’m coming in," Logan shouted before barging inside like manners were optional. "I haven’t seen that little boy properly yet." He walked straight to and extended his hands, all casual arrogance. "Here—let hold him."

"What?" I asked, staring at him flatly.

"Let have him," he repeated, as if I were just so delivery service for babies.

I glared at him, my patience wearing thin. "Did you smoke?"

"No," he said, raising his brows defensively. "Didn’t smoke today. I showered, brushed my teeth, and—" his mouth curved into a smirk—"I’m also done masturbating."

I didn’t even blink. "No." I turned slightly, clutching Sky protectively.

"Oh, co on! I was kidding about the last part," he said quickly.

I sighed, gestured for him to sit down, and after a long, deliberate mont, handed Sky to him. He took the baby like he was holding a fragile grenade.

"Both of you can take care of my baby," Livana said casually. "I’ll go to my husband."

No hesitation, no follow-up. Just gone, like a breeze that leaves you questioning if it ever passed by.

Monts later, Choco entered the room in his maid outfit—a large dog with more dignity than Logan, despite the frills. He sniffed Sky first, then Logan, before resting his chin on my lap, tail wagging softly.

"You’re so adorable, Choco," I murmured, reaching to pat him—

—but then, an unmistakable sound ca from Sky.

Both Logan and I froze.

"I don’t think that was a fart," he said, his voice rising an octave. "Take him. Take him!"

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "You change his diapers," I said with a smirk.

"Jane, please..." he pleaded, holding the baby away from his chest like it was a live explosive.

Sky, in contrast, just stared at him with serene amusent—nonchalant, composed, like a king tolerating a fool.

Barely a month old, and already he had the sa quiet dominance as his parents.

I leaned back, observing. Logan’s panic was almost endearing—he acts loud, reckless, like he doesn’t care, but the way his hands trembled just slightly while holding Sky told everything. He’s terrified of breaking sothing precious. That’s his weakness. His tells are obvious if you know what to look for.

People like Logan are easy to read—chaotic on the surface, but predictable underneath. Their hearts are their biggest vulnerabilities, and he’s yet to realize it.

Livana, though... she’s different. She hides her emotions like they’re classified information. Every smile, every movent, every silence of hers has purpose. She’s a chess player, not a dice roller.

And ? I’m sowhere in between. I read people, calculate their patterns, and let them think they’re unpredictable. That’s the advantage of being underestimated—you can plan two moves ahead while they’re still wondering what ga you’re even playing.

Sky cooed softly, breaking my thoughts. His tiny fingers curled around Logan’s shirt, tugging as if claiming ownership.

I smirked. "Looks like he likes you, Logan."

Logan sighed, still pale with panic. "Great. My first fan."

I laughed quietly, brushing a finger against Sky’s hand. His skin was warm, his grip surprisingly firm. There’s sothing about new life—it doesn’t just breathe, it anchors you. Even the most calculating heart can falter in its presence.

And for a brief second, I allowed myself to feel it—the warmth, the softness, the peace. Then I locked it away again. Emotions are luxuries I can’t afford to wear openly.