–Damon–
I didn’t step into the site itself—the one drenched in blood, our enemies scattered like broken pieces of a failed rebellion. It could’ve been Tyrona. But after a full sweep and investigation, it wasn’t her direct n. Connected to her, perhaps. Orbiting her influence. But not hers.
I morized the details anyway. I always do.
When I arrived at the mansion, the air felt different. Quieter.
My son was curled against Jane, looking lethargic—far from his usual hyperactive self. That alone tightened sothing in my chest.
"Dada," he murmured softly, raising his tiny hand to wave at .
I crossed the room in seconds. "What’s wrong?"
"He vomited from overeating," Jane explained gently. "And I shouldn’t have given him cold fruits after."
"Oh." I exhaled, shrugging lightly to ease her guilt. "That’s Sky."
I sprayed my hands with alcohol, stripped off my shirt, and lifted him carefully.
His body felt warm—but not feverish. Normal temperature. Just exhausted. Probably because his mother had been handling chaos downstairs.
I pressed my lips to his forehead. He wrapped his arms around my neck weakly.
"I’ll bathe quickly and co right back to you, okay?"
He nodded, slower than usual.
I handed him back to Jane and went straight to the bathroom. Shower on. Heater adjusted. Scrubbed hard, rinsed off the scent of gunpowder and tension. Used the facial cleanser Livana insisted on. I considered skipping the moisturizer—but she’d notice. She always notices.
Dressed and still toweling my hair, I rushed downstairs, took my son from Jane again, and carried him down to the Nest.
Livana was at command—headset on, issuing calm, precise instructions like a queen directing war from her throne.
We sat on the sofa and waited. Twenty minutes passed before she finally removed the headset and turned to us.
"Mama," Sky pouted dramatically.
"Hello, my love." She imdiately scooped him up and kissed his head. "What’s wrong with my Sky?"
"He threw up. Overeating," I said casually, though my jaw tightened. "What happened back there was horrendous."
"I know." She sighed, rubbing Sky’s tummy gently before kissing it. "I’m working on it."
She pressed her palm lightly against his stomach. "How’s your tummy, baby? It’s flat now."
"Foodie." He pointed at it.
"Ohhh." She pouted adorably—for him. Only for him. "I have sothing for you to do, Damon."
I stepped closer. She pointed at an empty warehouse on the screen.
"I think the Shadows can operate there for a while."
"Sure. What do you need?"
"We need a lair. And I need your Shadows to monitor soone."
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, chin resting near her temple. "Tell everything."
"My father."
I froze.
"Why?"
"I think he’s still funding and working with Casey."
My expression darkened. "Alright." I rubbed her arm slowly. "We’ll watch him."
"I also think he knows more than we assud."
"Lolo!" Sky suddenly pointed at my father’s image on the screen.
"Yes," I muttered. "That’s your grandpa."
Right on cue, Sky’s stomach growled—the specific growl that ant hunger, not drama.
"Ohh, foodiee," he announced proudly, pointing again.
We headed to the dining room. Food was ready. My mother-in-law had prepared fish soup with soft rice just for him.
Sky clapped excitedly as Livana fed him small, careful spoonfuls—warm enough, gentle enough.
He smiled between bites. She had to pause often so he wouldn’t eat too fast. If he could inhale food, he would. That’s why he gets sick.
"Where do you want to sleep tonight, Sky?" I asked.
"Mama," he answered imdiately, grinning.
"How about Zay-Zay and Zendy?"
He paused, thinking hard—then clapped his hands.
Perfect.
I smirked at Livana. She gave a look. The knowing kind.
"Alright then. Settled."
"You’re really trying to get rid of your son at bedti," Laura comnted dryly.
"My wife and I never get proper satisfaction at night," I replied smoothly. "That little guy is clingy."
"Just like you," Laura laughed. "It’s karma. Sky got that from you."
I looked at my son, who gave the most innocent expression imaginable.
After dinner, I went down to the Nest with Kai, who had just arrived. His wife was still managing cleanup operations.
"I’ll monitor my wife from here," Kai said as he settled into his station.
"Sure," I muttered, sitting in Livana’s chair. I spun it slightly and stared up at the ceiling.
"What do you think about starting a family?" I asked suddenly.
Kai smiled softly. "Sophia and I want that badly. But she’s still needed in the field. Maybe after Deanne gives birth and takes maternity leave, we can finally try."
He looked completely in love. Always has been.
I leaned back in the chair.
I want that too. A daughter.
But with everything happening... Livana wouldn’t allow carelessness. She calculates everything—even love. Even timing.
And I suppose that’s why we’re still standing.
---
–Lore–
After that kiss, we went ho in complete silence.
Didn’t speak. Didn’t even look at each other properly.
Yeah... it was awkward.
I enjoyed it. That was the problem.
I just needed to calm down. I’m nineteen, not so monk with perfect discipline.
I showered. Brushed my teeth. Every ti I caught my reflection or my fingers brushed over my lips, that kiss replayed like a high-definition loop.
I sighed.
Damn. Just... damn.
I threw on clean clothes and turned on the television, trying to distract myself. Tried. Failed. I wasn’t in the mood for noise. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of her.
The door opened softly.
"Aly?"
She walked in carrying a tray — skincare bottles neatly arranged like she was preparing for a ritual. She placed it on my desk and climbed onto my bed.
"Did you an that kiss?" she asked bluntly.
Her eyes were cloudy. Searching.
"I tried to stop myself, Alyssa," I said honestly. "You’re dangerous to my self-control."
"What the hell does that an?" She frowned.
"It ans I’m a guy with impulses," I replied evenly. "And I refuse to disrespect you."
She crawled closer.
In one swift movent, I flipped us, pinning her lightly to the mattress and pulling the duvet over her.
"Hey!"
"Stop testing ," I warned. "I swear, I’ll tie you to the headboard for your own safety."
She laughed.
She was enjoying this. Pushing. Teasing.
I leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead instead.
"I’m sorry for the car," I said quietly. "You’re not soone I can treat casually."
"What does that even an?"
"It ans I’ll court you properly," I said, leaning back against the headboard. "Then maybe we can kiss again on the hundredth day."
She snorted. "Such a bumr. We already kissed. Twice."
"I need permission from your brothers. And your parents."
She stared at .
"But do you like ?"
"Yes." I took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently. "Just this for now. Okay?"
She grinned and sat up.
I pulled her into a hug. And it felt like torture — not because I didn’t want her, but because I wanted her too much.
We’re young. I won’t disrespect her. She deserves sothing intentional. Sothing formal.
"No crossing lines until you solve that puzzle," I added.
"Fine."
"Now do your skincare ritual on ."
"Okay..."
I lay back down, hugging a pillow while she worked on my face with ridiculous seriousness. Cool serum. Light taps. The faint scent of whatever expensive product she was using.
I must’ve dozed off.
Because when I felt a soft brush against my lips, I jolted upright.
"Aly," I groaned, pushing her gently away. "I told you to stop."
"Good night," she said, grabbing her tray and slipping out.
I sighed and followed her to her room. I pulled her into a quick hug, inhaled the clean scent of her shampoo, and kissed her forehead.
"Good night."
I returned to my room, locked the door — safety protocol — and finally forced my brain to shut down.
If she only knew how badly I wanted her. How easily I could see a future. Marriage. All of it.
But she’s young.
And I’m not selfish.
Twenty minutes later, once my mind was clear and my pulse steady, I grabbed my secondary phone and dialed Tyrona. Voice modulator on.
"Tyrona... must be exhausting trying to track her down, right?" I chuckled.
"Just tell where she is," she snapped. "I ran another test. The body in that grave was Livana. And we lost n today."
Interesting.
"Here’s another hint," I said smoothly. "Try the cottage."
She scoffed. "We already hit that place."
I froze.
"Well," I replied lightly, "good luck."
I hung up and grabbed my tablet.
The cottage had been ambushed. Bodies everywhere.
But none of them were ours.
I tilted my head.
Livana.
Impressive.
I was just about to admire her strategy when my door creaked.
A soft knock.
"Lore."
I looked around quickly, cleared my desk, composed myself, and opened the door.
"Why aren’t you asleep?"
She crossed her arms.
"Why do you keep dreaming about us—"
I covered her mouth instantly and glanced toward the staircase.
"Filter your words," I hissed.
I pulled her inside and closed the door behind us.
"Aly, you can’t just say things like that."
She pouted and grabbed my hand.
Before I could react, she pressed it lightly against her chest.
"I want you," she said quietly.
Every alarm in my system went off.
I pulled my hand back imdiately.
No.
I’m in control.
And I will not cross that line.
Not like this.
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