–Livana–
I tasted Chef Wally’s new dish slowly, deliberately—letting the flavors bloom on my tongue like a well-rehearsed promise. Butter, herbs, sothing smoky beneath it all. Controlled. Refined. Just a few more days, and everything would be perfect. Precision was a language I spoke fluently.
My phone vibrated again. Lore. Persistent. Demanding that I take back the contract.
I sighed, the sound thin and restrained.
Lore had finally realized what I already knew—he was in love with Alyssa. Love, however, was not sothing I could command like troops or currency. It was Alyssa’s choice. I would not rob her of that. Still, if Lore decided to propose, I could smooth the road, move pieces quietly into place. Influence, not force. Always.
"Yes, let’s have this," I said to Chef Wally.
Sky, sitting proudly beside , raised both thumbs—the gesture Chef Wally had taught him. My little accomplice. He never missed a tasting, never forgave a dull flavor. A true connoisseur in a small body.
"Let’s check out the suits," I added.
I finished my plate. Sky cleaned his—spotless, not a crumb left behind. I lifted him, then set him down to walk; he was heavier now, solid with health and indulgence.
"Baby, you need to lose a little tummy," I teased.
"Yummy?" He poked his own stomach and squeezed the soft flesh, eyes bright.
I giggled, extending my hand. He took it, flashing those shalessly adorable teeth as we walked upstairs. His suit had been tailored with intention—stretchable, forgiving. A child should be able to run, eat, laugh without constraint.
In our bedroom, my gown stood on a mannequin like a silent queen awaiting her crown. Beside it—Sky’s small, flashy suit. Then my husband’s. Black, sharp, commanding.
Masquerade. Elegant. Masks hid truths. Silk and shadow.
"Wow, pretty!" Sky pointed at my gown.
"Yes," I smiled. "And yours is adorable."
I undressed him carefully and helped him into the suit. It fit perfectly. He moved, twisted, tested it—free.
"But Mama can’t join you in the fun, my love," I told him, adjusting the brooch. "You can’t call Mama."
He tilted his head, confused, studying my face like he was searching for cracks in the rule.
"Don’t worry," I whispered, kissing his forehead. "I am forever your Mama."
I pulled him toward the mirror. He clapped his hands.
"Wow, Mama!"
He hugged tightly. For a mont, my chest tightened—just a little.
I changed him back and carried him downstairs.
In the playroom, Zayvier was deep into poker again, brows furrowed in concentration. Zendaya sat at the piano, playing wildly out of tune, fingers enthusiastic if not precise. Grandma Ines guided her patiently, smiling through every wrong note.
"Are you playing too, little love?" Grandma Olivia asked.
Sky climbed into her lap imdiately, claiming his throne.
"I’ll leave my baby for a while," I said.
"Go, go," my grandparents waved off. They were determined to fill Sky’s day with gas and lessons and affection.
I headed down to the Nest.
Deanne was asleep on the sofa, curled into herself like a tired cat. I gently pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders and turned to the screens. Surveillance feeds lit up the room—angles, entry points, exits. The venue. The secret room. The control room. The dressing room for the birthday girl.
Scanners. Sniff dogs. Gift checkpoints. Designers and coordinators sourced from my pawns’ businesses. Every variable accounted for.
No mistakes.
My phone buzzed again.
Lore.
I exhaled sharply and typed.
: Focus on the dance for the cotillion! We only have a few days, Lore! Then we’ll talk.
Lore: The fuck! So what am I gonna do? Drop out? Move out?
My patience snapped—just slightly.
: NO! YOU CAN’T FUCKING DROP OUT! DON’T MOVE OUT IF YOU DON’T WANT TO. JUST DO WHATEVER YOU FUCKING WANT!
All caps. I hit send.
Lore was going to be the death of my blood pressure.
"Liva..." Deanne murmured, half-awake. "I had a bad dream."
I turned. "What is it?"
"Just... ss at the party. My body hurts."
I stood imdiately. "Where?"
"No—just afternoon sleep paralysis."
Relief washed through .
"You got there," I said, returning to the screens.
"I sent my mother-in-law to monitor their practice," I added.
"It doesn’t need to be perfect," Deanne said.
"Lore is giving a headache."
She sat up. "About what?"
I told her everything. She giggled.
"Alright. Whatever."
I crossed my arms. "Deanne, you need to be ready. The governnt’s been following you and Caine. They know you’re married. I want you to step out."
Her face tightened. "My job?"
"Temporary. I need you safe. Soon, Tyrona will unmask the truth about ."
"I can still watch the Nest..."
I nodded. "No fieldwork."
She pouted. "Okay."
I smiled faintly.
"After Alyssa’s party, I deal with Tyrona’s claws—the governnt. Kenzo is still out there. We don’t know how much he’s leaked."
"Does that include your lab?" she asked.
"Yes. He’s trying to recreate it. But he’s missing the crucial piece."
She studied . "You’ll be in the field too."
I nodded.
"I’ll have less ti with my Sky," I murmured, lips pressing together.
"You should worry more about your husband," Deanne teased softly.
I rembered every ti Damon had flirted with death—reckless, furious, broken. It still hurt. I held to my plan only because Jane, and Sky, made it possible.
Power always demanded paynt.
And I was prepared to pay—
as long as my family remained untouched.
–Lore–
She was distant. Even during practice.
Either she was trying to act casual—or she’d gone full formal mode, which sohow hurt more. The countdown had started, and she didn’t even look excited about her upcoming birthday. anwhile, there I was—learning to dance like my life depended on it. I practiced until my feet ached, replaying steps in my head, because if I was going to do this, it had to be perfect.
Back at ho, she went straight to her room.
I almost knocked. Almost.
But I stopped myself. Space. Yeah. She needed space. That’s what emotionally mature people give, right?
So I headed to my room instead and started cleaning. I’d specifically told the maid I’d handle my own ss from now on—growth, responsibility, character developnt. I sorted my laundry, folded what could be folded, and dumped the rest into a basket outside.
No way I was sleeping tonight anyway. My brain was too busy replaying her face, her voice, her everything.
The Princess of the Blackwell.
When I opened the door to take out the trash, Alyssa stepped out at the sa ti—hair tied up, that soft cloth headband holding her bangs back, bare-faced, sleepy-eyed—and staring directly at my laundry basket like it had personally offended her.
"Why in hell do you have so much laundry?"
I crossed my arms and stared back at the basket.
"Wait," I said slowly. "I have more laundry than you?"
She nodded without hesitation.
"Yes, duh. You need to learn how to wash your underwear. I always do mine."
I frowned.
"You know how to do your laundry?"
She blinked at .
"You don’t?"
That... hit harder than expected.
"You know what," she continued, already in problem-solving mode, "you should have one of those small washing machines for delicates in your bathroom."
"Wow," I muttered. "Buy one, okay."
I went back inside and stared at my bed. The sheets needed changing—but then I rembered she’d slept there a few days ago. I buried my face into the pillow instinctively. Her scent was faint now, almost gone.
Maybe we should just swap rooms.
"Let’s swap rooms for a while," I said casually. "I need to get off radiation."
"No. Your room is bad for ."
"I’ll change the sheets!" I defended myself. "Your room has better lighting."
She raised an eyebrow at —clearly unimpressed.
"Tita!"
Sky’s loud voice startled us both.
"Tita!" he yelled again, sprinting straight into Alyssa’s arms.
"Sky!" She knelt down instantly, hugging him and kissing his cheeks. Sky attacked her back with kisses, squeezing her like his life depended on it—pure, aggressive affection. Adorable.
"I love you!" he declared.
"I’m leaving Sky here," Damon announced.
I turned just in ti to see Livana beside him, wearing a tight black dress and a black wig. She waved casually like this was a normal Tuesday.
"We’re off on a date."
"But where’s Jane?" I asked.
"That girl has a husband to take care of," Damon replied.
I sighed and took Sky’s bag from him.
"I can’t clean him up if he poops," I warned.
"You should learn how," Damon said, crossing his arms. "And Sky knows how to use the toilet."
I sighed deeper.
"Fine. Whatever."
He handed his credit card.
"Buy takeout or whatever."
I grinned.
"Can we go on a joyride and order takeout?"
"No," Livana said flatly.
I nodded imdiately.
"Fine. I’ll just go out and order takeout."
I stopped when I noticed Choco—a service dog—standing there with a small backpack and a bone-shaped pillow in his mouth.
"Oh. Hi, Choco."
He sat obediently while Damon patted his head.
"Watch over Sky too, buddy."
Choco huffed like he understood the assignnt.
The couple left, and a maid imdiately approached my laundry.
"Wait, I’ll—"
"Please stop stacking your laundry in your room," she scolded gently.
"Let him wash his underwear," Alyssa said calmly. "He can use my mini washing machine."
"Fine," I muttered, grabbed the smaller basket, and kicked it back into my room.
I followed Alyssa into her room—it slled nice. Clean. Soft. Like her.
Sky climbed onto her bed instantly, while Choco settled beside it like a guard.
I grabbed the mini washing machine—basically a fancy bucket—and went to my bathroom. It worked surprisingly well. She even gave a specific detergent just for underwear.
She helped change my sheets too, with Sky enthusiastically "helping" by throwing pillows everywhere. The maid ca to collect the old linens.
Are we... good now?
We were talking normally again.
Then I heard the vacuum.
I peeked out to see Alyssa using a mite vacuum on the mattress while Sky pushed a bigger vacuum across the carpet like he was on a mission.
"Are you really helping ?" I asked.
She looked at like I was stupid.
"Can’t you see?"
"Yeah..."
"Let’s go to Starbucks!" she said suddenly, excited. There was one inside the subdivision—open 24/7.
"Foodie!" Sky clapped his hands.
I ssaged Livana to let her know we were heading out but staying inside the subdivision.
"Yeah," Alyssa added, "after you finish cleaning my room."
She blinked when I smiled.
"We’re using my brother’s card."
"Exactly! He entrusted with this."
I checked with Miss Christina about her Starbucks order, morized it like a responsible adult, and placed everything on the app.
"We’re done!" Alyssa announced.
"Okay, let’s go."
Sky ran toward , Choco following close behind.
We hopped into the car and drove toward the café, the bodyguard tailing us discreetly. Choco settled into the backseat.
And sohow... things felt normal again.
Which terrified a little more than the chaos.
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