–Livana–
I nudged my husband when the sound ca again—soft knocking layered with familiar scratching, like small claws tracing impatience against wood. Before either of us could speak, a tiny voice broke through the door.
"Mama!"
Sky’s cry sliced clean through the quiet, sharp with betrayal and sleep-heavy emotion. Damon moved at once, instinct honed by fatherhood and war alike. He slipped into his pajamas while I smoothed myself into a dress, silk whispering against my skin. The door opened, and Sky burst in like a storm—tear-soaked cheeks, hair sticking up in rebellion—Choco darting after him as if on escort duty.
Sky pointed a trembling finger straight at his father, lower lip jutting.
"Baddie!"
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Even fury looked sweet on him.
"I’m sorry," Damon said imdiately, guilt written across his face. Sky must have woken alone, the absence loud enough to feel abandoned. He ran to instead, wiped his own tears with the back of his hand, then looked up and smiled as if the world had righted itself.
"Mama!"
"Hello, my love." I bent down, kissed his warm forehead, breathed him in—milk, soap, and sothing uniquely his. "Let’s go change your diaper."
I carried him into the bathroom. The tiles were cool under my feet, the light soft and forgiving. Sky babbled as I worked, his words tumbling over one another in incoherent protest.
"No, Dada. Baddie."
Ah. So that was it.
"Daddy is not a baddie," I whispered, voice gentle but firm. "But I’m sorry, baby. Daddy and I needed a little ti alone."
I soaked a towel in warm water, wrung it out, and wiped his face slowly, deliberately—each movent ant to soothe, to reassure. He pouted as if he understood every word, as if the injustice of it all weighed heavily on his small chest. Then the tears returned, softer this ti, more negotiable.
"All right," I murmured, brushing my lips over his nose. "This ti, you’ll sleep with ."
"Okay," he nodded solemnly, peace restored.
Fresh diapers. Clean clothes. The ritual was completed. When we stepped back into the bedroom, Sky fixed his father with a look far older than his years.
"Dada," he said, followed by a string of nonsense that sounded suspiciously like a lecture.
I sighed inwardly. My fault.
"All right, boss," Damon replied easily, accepting judgnt with a grin. He scooped Sky up. "I’ll take him downstairs for breakfast."
I knew that look. A bribe. Always food.
I chuckled as I watched them leave together, Choco trotting behind like a loyal shadow.
Once alone, I made the bed, smoothing the sheets until they were crisp again. I washed my face, followed my morning cleansing routine with practiced precision. Damon always bought ti like this—trading pancakes and fruit for my solitude.
When I finally stepped out, dressed and composed, ready to face the day, Damon slipped back into the room. Still in his pajamas. He locked the door behind him.
"Hey."
"I already did my skincare," I warned lightly.
"Fuck that," he murmured, crossing the space between us in two strides. His arms wrapped around , firm and familiar, his lips finding mine. He tasted clean—mint and warmth. Morning tea.
"Careful," I said against his mouth, fingers pressing to his chest. "This dress is new. I don’t want it ruined."
"Okay," he said, entirely unconvincing, kissing again as he guided back toward the bed. "Morning cardio," he added, brows lifting with boyish delight.
I cupped his face, grounding him, and pressed a series of slow, affectionate kisses to his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his chin—claiming him softly, deliberately.
I was ready.
Not for chaos.
For him.
–Alyssa–
I feel groggy.
Still, I force myself to sit up. On my bedside is a flask of warm water—probably prepared by Mom, a hangover drink because she knows too well. I drink so, then head to the bathroom. I soak in warm water, letting it loosen the ache in my head, and carefully do my skincare routine. I wince a little, realizing I was so drunk last night that I didn’t even clean my face. Very unlike .
When I reach the last step—lip moisturizer—sothing strange happens.
mories surface. Fragnted. Soft. Warm.
I freeze.
My fingers linger on my lips, and suddenly I rember the pressure. Sothing—soone—crashing gently into mine.
"Wait—"
I stop breathing.
I rember it now.
Lore kissed .
I an... who else would do that to in this house? Everyone here is my family. Blood, marriage, history.
Except Lore.
Not by blood. Not by law.
My heart starts beating faster. I quickly make sure I look presentable, then rush to the other wing, where only a few rooms are occupied. His room is at the very end. I knocked.
No answer.
I slowly open the door. The room is dark, lit only by the faint glow of the animated clock on his table. He’s snoring softly when I approach.
Then I noticed the notebook beside his bed.
DO NOT DISTURB! FOR GOD’S SAKE, ALYSSA! I JUST SLEPT.
#WorkLifeBalance
I cringe.
Seriously?
He just slept. And worse—he knew I’d be looking for him.
I glance at the robot on his bedside table. The monitor shows his sleep log.
One hour.
I roll my eyes. This guy probably worked through dawn again. My irritation lts into sothing gentler. I quietly tuck him in, smoothing the blanket, then step back.
Still... the kiss won’t leave my mind.
Was it real? Or just a dream? A drunken hallucination?
I let him sleep and head downstairs, where my mother imdiately greets with a warm hug. I sink into it without thinking.
"Dada," Zayvier calls Damon. "Where—you go?"
Sky looks up too, following Zayvier’s question.
Damon quickly shushes him and piles more pancakes onto Sky’s plate.
I think he’s trying to escape.
"Here, Sky. More honey..."
I crease my brows. Sky takes the bait instantly, fully distracted. Damon slips away so fast it leaves everyone confused.
"Where Dada go?" Zayvier asks Damien, who only shrugs.
"Hush. Let him. Okay?"
I smile faintly. Damon probably just planned to drop Sky off and then rush back to his wife. Now that Sky is settled, his real plan can finally be executed.
"I’m starving," Deanne says as she sits down, one hand on her belly.
Her husband imdiately serves her a plate.
I watch all of them—the warmth, the quiet love, the chaos—and my chest tightens in that familiar, aching way.
I wonder if soday... soone will look at the way Lore looked at last night.
If that kiss was real.
*****
Wow... every husband here is incredibly doting when I reached the breakfast kitchen
Laura is pregnant, and there’s Sophia with Kai. Jane, in her apron, moves around effortlessly—refilling empty bowls like this is her natural habitat—while Logan tries (and fails) to keep up with her. It feels unreal, like a scene pulled out of a dream. One big family. Blackwell and Braxton intertwined. Both grandparents on each side look genuinely happy, watching this breakfast unfold as if it’s sothing sacred.
Seeing the husbands take such gentle care of their wives makes sothing tug at my chest. I crave that kind of attention. Not in a spoiled way—just... to be chosen. To be cared for like that.
"I was thinking we should go for a pool party," Logan announced.
My excitent flickered, then dimd. I rembered I had school tomorrow. I had to go back. The thought made sad. I wanted to stay here—with everyone—laughing, eating, existing together without deadlines or responsibilities.
"For God’s sake! I need a vacation!" David exclaid over the phone. "Kelsey, I haven’t had a vacation in my entire life. You take over the company."
Kelsey?
Probably the new secretary.
"Give a day!" he added before hanging up.
"Hey, shouting this early in the morning?" Dad comnted. "Stop being harsh on Kelsey. She’s doing everything she can to keep the company together."
David groaned.
"She’s a beast, alright. The new secretary Damon gave ," he muttered.
Mom shot him a look.
"Oh," I raised my brows slightly. So Damon sent him a secretary—not just to help, but probably to protect him. To make sure nothing collapses while he’s distracted.
That made sense. After my kidnapping... David needed protection too. He’s the face of our legal business, after all.
"Good morning!" David suddenly hugged and kissed my forehead. "Hello, baby sis. I was thinking... maybe I’ll take you to Disneyland."
My eyes widened.
"Japan or Hong Kong?" I asked instantly.
"Whichever you prefer."
I glanced at my nephews and niece. I wanted to take them too. But safety crept into my thoughts, uninvited.
"Can we even go?" I asked softly. "It’s crowded... and I want to take the babies. It would be really nice if the whole family could go together."
"That’s sweet," Deanne murmured. "Yeah, I’d love that." She looked at Caine, who nodded.
"Now, where’s Lore?" Mom asked as she placed a bowl of mushroom soup in front of .
"He said he just slept," I replied casually.
"You went to his room?" Logan asked, suddenly suspicious.
"I wanted to ask him sothing—and to wake him. I just saw the note," I shrugged.
"Do you like Lore?" Caine asked, his tone sharp and interrogative.
"Were you planning to pursue Lore? When you ntioned having a boyfriend last night?" Kai added, throwing fuel into the fire.
I glared at both of them.
"Boys, stop pressuring our birthday girl," Aunt Ines said firmly, saving . I could’ve hugged her right then. "The three of you, stop roasting her."
"We don’t mind if she marries Lore," David added, grinning proudly.
"If it’s Lore, we’re okay with it," Dad said, winking and giving a thumbs-up.
I sighed.
I feel so pressured.
But deep down... I just hope Lore likes . The way I like him.
Last night’s kiss still lingers in my head, vivid and warm. And here I am, quietly wishing it was real—not just a dream my heart made up because it wanted sothing so badly.
Reviews
All reviews (0)