Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 199: The Dramatic Husband and the Drama

–Damon–

I arrived home late—exhausted, sore, and bruised by the mountain of work that never seems to end. The house was quiet, dimly lit, and peaceful in that deceptive way that only makes my thoughts louder.

I headed straight to our bedroom, the one place that still feels like mine. There she was—my wife—and beside her, that little rascal who had officially stolen my spot. Both of them looked too perfect for me to even complain. I set the gift I brought on her bedside table, then trudged into the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

I scrubbed myself the way Livana always reminds me to—"Until there’s no trace of the world left on you." She says it half-jokingly, but I always listen.

When I was done, I dried my hair, rubbed moisturizer on my face, and threw on my pajamas—no boxers tonight, not that anyone would notice. I climbed into bed, fully intending to take the side next to our son, but my body betrayed me. I slid closer to my wife instead, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing my lips against her shoulder.

She hummed softly, catching my hand in hers. I tried to sneak it to her chest, but she gently pushed it away.

Weird. For the past few months, she’s been the one pulling my hand there. Now? Now she’s guarding it like it’s sacred territory.

I lifted my head and glared playfully at our son. That tiny thief was latched onto my wife, blissfully unaware of his crimes.

"Oh, so I can’t touch those now?" I whispered, half teasing, half serious.

She nudged me. "Hmm?"

I kissed her hand. "Nothing."

"What time is it?" she murmured.

"One in the morning."

"Hmm, feeding time."

I sighed. My poor wife—waking up every three hours like clockwork, never complaining once.

"I’ll get you something to eat," I said, kissing her temple before heading downstairs.

I rummaged through the fridge and found the frozen ramen Laura always stocked for emergencies. I cooked two, carried them upstairs, and set them on the bedside table. She was still feeding Sky, looking utterly radiant in that exhausted, glowing way mothers do.

I stirred her ramen to cool it down, waiting for my cue. When Sky finally released his grip, I scooped him up, patted his back gently, and felt triumphant when a small burp escaped. I placed him in his crib and finally sat across from Livana.

"How’s work?" she asked.

"Usual. Bloody," I replied dryly.

We ate in silence, the kind of silence that felt domestic and grounding. When she finished, I took her bowl, brought it downstairs, and loaded it into the dishwasher. Then I jogged back up—already imagining wrapping myself around her like before—but when I entered the room, there he was again. My replacement.

"Damn it," I muttered.

Livana giggled softly as I climbed into bed beside her. I kissed her cheek, then her shoulder.

"He didn’t get enough milk earlier," she said, amused.

"Yeah, he’s greedy."

"Damon, don’t call your son greedy," she scolded, glaring.

I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Fine. He’s... generously hungry."

She chuckled as I brushed my lips over her neck. "I miss when it was just us," I murmured.

"Tsk. Didn’t you plan this? You were the one who wanted a baby."

"Oh right," I said with a faint laugh. "Almost forgot."

When Sky finally dozed off, I lifted him and placed him carefully in his crib. Then I turned back to her, pulling her close, my hands tracing slow, apologetic circles on her back.

"Where does it hurt, my love?"

"Everywhere," she sighed.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, kissing her lips."He’ll be our last."

She frowned. "Don’t be stupid. We need more."

She stared at me. I pouted dramatically.

"Okay, fine. I love you," I said, leaning in to kiss her again. She responded, thankfully, until Sky’s cry cut through the room like a knife.

I groaned and got up. Diaper time.

I turned on the vent, laid out a new diaper, wipes, and a small garbage bag. The smell nearly killed me, but I soldiered through, cleaning him carefully until he was fresh and cooing again.

When I handed him back to Livana, I disposed of the little "bomb" by tossing it down the chute that led to the main garbage. Then I washed my hands and returned, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"Can you hand me my phone?" she asked.

I picked it up and answered when it rang. "Yes?"

She listened silently, humming in acknowledgment.

"I see. It’s time to call the Knight—Logan."

She ended the call and handed me back the phone.

"Go to the other side," she said, nudging me.

I frowned. "Why?"

"Go," she ordered.

I sighed, defeated. My queen had spoken. I moved to the other side, feeling thoroughly bullied by my own wife. She placed Sky in his small bed and slipped away briefly.

When she returned, she tapped my arm. "Brush your teeth."

I pouted, but one glare from her and I was up immediately. Whatever my queen commands, I obey.

After brushing, I crawled back into bed. She pointed for me to stay on my side, but I ignored her and slid closer, wrapping myself around her. This time, she didn’t protest. I kissed her neck softly as she faced our baby.

"Liva," I murmured.

"Hmm?"

"What was the call about?"

"Apparently," she said calmly, "one of the villa staff—the female host who was fond of Logan—tried to kill Jane."

"Oh?" I muttered, my lips trailing along her shoulder.

"She’s not a fighter, just good at entertaining men. But the son of the Yakuza head... seems he’s betrayed me. They’re still investigating."

I growled under my breath. "Who dares betray my Ice Queen?"

She laughed softly. "Damon, you’re being dramatic again."

"I can’t help it," I grumbled. "That little rascal wore you out."

"That little rascal," she said, poking my chest, "is your son."

She pinched my right nipple. I laughed, even as I flinched.

She’s right, of course. That tiny creature has the privilege of what I once claimed as mine. I glanced over at him—peaceful, full, and fast asleep—and sighed.

I can’t wait for him to grow up. So he’ll finally stop stealing my wife.

–Logan–

I couldn’t sleep. Not after finding out what Keiko tried to pull on Jane.

According to Sophia, who followed Jane shortly after, she saw everything. The hatred in Keiko’s eyes, the way she lunged at Jane—and if it wasn’t for Moon giving Jane that tiny cue, things could’ve gone really bad. Moon, that little furball, is basically Jane’s spirit animal at this point.

I turned to look at her—sleeping with her back to me, breathing steady. Moon was curled up close to her head, looking smug as always. I sat up, rubbing my face, when I heard... that noise.

Sophia and Kai. Going at it again in the room across from us. I swear, these walls have seen too much.

Then I noticed movement—shadows through the gap under the door. I stood and opened it quietly.

Kenzo was outside, pacing like a worried dad.

"Hey," I muttered. He looked mildly disappointed to see me instead of Jane. "What’s up?"

"I heard what happened and I just wanted to make sure the girls—"

"Oh, Jane’s fine," I cut him off, stepping outside and closing the door behind me.

He crossed his arms. "I thought there was nothing going on between you and Jane?"

"There’s not," I said, shrugging. "But I like bothering her. She hates me, I insist—classic ’the more you hate, the more you love’ situation, right?"

Kenzo blinked. "Hmm."

"But you were with Keiko," he added, tilting his head.

"Keiko worked for me. She knew there was nothing romantic between us."

He seemed to get it now, but still frowned. "Then why did she act that way? If you and Jane aren’t together, why’d she care enough to—"

"Try to kill Jane?" I finished for him.

That got his attention. His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." I twisted the doorknob. "I’ll talk to Keiko tomorrow. Night, Kenzo."

I closed the door behind me and locked it. Jane was still asleep—peaceful, cold-hearted, adorable as always. I grabbed my pillow and slid into bed beside her. There was a huge empty space between us. Perfect.

Until she kicked me.

"Hey! It’s freezing on the floor!"

"No, it’s not," she said flatly, shoving Moon between us like a bodyguard. "Go back to your room."

"Hey, what if I get raped back there?"

She didn’t even look up. "You snore too loud. We’re not compatible."

I choked back a laugh, but it slipped out anyway, startling Moon—who hissed at me like I just insulted his ancestors. I stared at both of them.

Same glare. Terrifying duo.

"Fine, fine," I said. "Deal with my snoring or die tonight."

"I’m not afraid of dying," she said, scooting further away.

"By the way," I added, smirking, "your suitor was outside the door."

"Okay," she muttered, yawning. She pulled out her earplugs and handed me something.

"A... mouth tape?" I blinked.

"Yeah," she said, nodding like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I actually put it on—for the sake of her sleep. I glanced at her as she drifted off, Moon climbing over her chest like a tiny, furry king.

And just when I was about to finally sleep, dogs started barking outside. I sat up. Jane was already awake—assembling her gun. In bed. Half asleep.

The monitor on her table showed shadows—intruders.

"How the hell did they find us?" I whispered.

"Go to Kei. Protect him," she said, calm but sharp.

No hesitation. I ran.

Kei’s room was chaotic—a pool of blood on the floor.

"Kei!" I shouted, kneeling beside him. He was still breathing, pulse faint. The girls around him were unconscious but unharmed.

Then—bang!

Jane burst in and shot the assassin hiding behind the cabinet. The man dropped instantly.

"Jane!" I yelled. She didn’t answer, just handed me her gun as she pressed her hand over Kei’s wound.

That’s when I noticed it—a faint red dot dancing on her neck.

"Jane, move!" I grabbed her and pulled her down as another shot cracked through the room.

Sophia and Kai came running in, weapons ready.

"Kei..." Jane’s voice shook.

Kei looked at her—eyes fading—but he managed to whisper something. His final words? No. Hell no. We’re not losing him. Not tonight.