Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 249: Rome has Fallen

–Sophia–

So my fiancé said we were going to visit the island he recently purchased. Casual. Just an island. There was a yacht—a big one—waiting for us, white and gleaming against the ocean like it belonged in a billionaire fantasy. We all hopped in, laughter carried by the salt air as the engine hummed beneath our feet. The sea smelled clean and wild, sun-warmed and endless.

We stopped by the villa first. The moment we stepped inside, Kai pushed me playfully into our master bedroom—and before I could even process it, the door clicked shut behind me.

"I’ll see you later," he said, already backing away.

I frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to deal with a few things."

Before I could protest, his mother’s voice floated in, warm and commanding.

"Sophia," she called. Kai’s two sisters appeared beside her, glowing. "We have a party later." She smiled like she was holding a secret.

"Oh," I chuckled nervously. "Right. We need to be fancy."

They were all dressed in soft silks, white with delicate flowers embroidered along the hems. Light fabrics that moved when they breathed. I sat down and suddenly hands were everywhere—makeup brushes, fingers weaving through my hair, laughter filling the room. My lashes were darkened, my lips glossed, my cheeks kissed with warmth. It felt intimate, sisterly, sacred.

"All of us are wearing white," Lani said gently.

That’s when I noticed. Every single one of them—white. Pure, luminous, intentional.

They brought out my dress and I nearly forgot how to breathe.

A white mini gown, fantasy-born. Tulle skirt—short in the front, flowing long in the back like a soft wave frozen mid-motion. The hem was embroidered with roses and tulips, petals stitched with devotion. They tightened the corset carefully, snug but loving, and crowned my braided hair with real flowers—fresh, fragrant, cool against my skin.

They wore the same style. We were aligned. Chosen.

We headed down toward the forest path of the island, cobblestones under our feet, winding paths leading somewhere unknown and inevitable. String lights were already glowing softly between the trees, even though the sun hadn’t fully set. Gold light filtered through leaves, dust motes dancing in the air.

Then I saw it.

A wooden platform facing the ocean. An arch wrapped in flowers, fabric fluttering gently in the sea breeze. Beyond it—the horizon. The sky melting into shades of honey, coral, and soft lavender.

I froze.

"I hope you don’t mind," Lani said softly, taking my hand. "We prepared everything ahead of time. Kai just can’t wait to marry you."

I had imagined eloping with him in Vegas. No stress. No planning. No drama.

And yet here I was—standing inside something so thoughtfully made, so us, that my chest ached.

Lani placed the veil over my head, and that’s when my eyes burned. Because there—at the end of the aisle—Kai was waiting. Patient. Still. The entire Clan stood on both sides, faces warm, proud, present.

I had no blood family here.

And yet—I was whole.

The sound of a helicopter pulled everyone’s attention upward. Wind whipped the flowers, fabric dancing wildly as figures descended from the hanging stairs. Then I saw her.

She landed gracefully, transforming her suit mid-motion into a dress.

Livana’s mother.

My lips trembled.

She wore a white veil edged with pearls, face hidden but presence unmistakable. Ines approached us, smiling at Lani, extending her hand.

"I’m Ina," she said warmly. "Sophia’s godmother. I’ll be taking her to the altar myself."

They exchanged brief introductions before Lani walked ahead with the bridesmaids. Ines turned to me, slipping one of her diamond bracelets onto my wrist—cool, heavy, grounding. She adjusted my veil, lifted it gently, and wiped my tears with her thumb.

"Sophia."

"Auntie."

"Are you ready?"

I nodded.

I didn’t know how she got here so fast. I didn’t care. Livana wasn’t here—but I felt her everywhere. Her people stood around me, posing as my family. No—being my family. These were the people who stood beside me in the field, who bled with me, who protected me.

The music began. Soft. Slow. The ocean answered with its own rhythm, waves rolling in time. Butterflies exploded in my stomach as we walked. The air smelled like salt and flowers and sunset.

As we got closer, Kai stepped down from the platform. He approached us and gently took Ines’s hand, bowing his head and pressing his forehead to it—a Filipino gesture of respect, reverence, and gratitude offered to an elder.

"Mano po," he murmured.

"I know you’ll take good care of our Sophia," she said clearly.

He looked up at her, holding her gaze. Long enough to understand.

"I will," he said. "And I’ll grow old with her—even when she starts throwing slippers at me."

Ines chuckled, then guided my hand into his.

"Are you ready, my sexy love?" Kai asked, eyes dark, voice soft.

I giggled as Ines let go.

I looked up at my groom. His usually messy hair was neatly styled, waxed just enough to sharpen his already striking features. The sunset painted him gold.

And all I could think was—

I can’t wait to make love to him as my husband.

–Livana–

We watched Sophia’s wedding unfold live on the wide screen, vows drifting through the room like silk ribbons carried by salt air and sunset light. Somewhere, I knew Deanne and Caine were watching too—parallel hearts, parallel calculations. Mother had already arrived, of course. The fastest jet, the quietest landing. Timing had always been her favorite weapon. Every man who married her goddaughters would become her godson—family by affection, bound by design.

"One down," I murmured, eyes still on the screen as I turned to Damon. "Once the papers are signed, Mother will step in. Our papers. The confidential, blood-sealed agreement."

"Oh," he nodded, thoughtful.

He slid an arm around my shoulders. "Why didn’t I get one of those?"

I smiled and patted his thigh. "You did. Don’t you remember? You signed it while you were courting me."

"Hm." He shrugged, careless and certain. "Whatever it was—so long as you’re with me."

I lifted my left hand, rings catching the light. "I’m already tied to you." Then, softer, sharper: "Now. About Tyrona’s proposal—to save her company’s face?"

Just the mention made him tense. "Seeing her makes me sick. I want her gone."

"Dada!"

Sky broke into the moment, tugging at Damon’s hand with small insistence. Damon bent to him. "Later, baby."

Sky pouted. I reached for him, lifting him onto my lap, and pointed to the screen. "We’re watching your Tata’s wedding," I told him. He settled against me, instinctively seeking comfort, and I let him nurse, though there was likely nothing left. Damon leaned down to peek, mock-glaring.

"You’re grown now," he warned softly. "Those are mine."

Sky answered by poking Damon’s nose and giggling. I hugged my son closer, the world narrowing to his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breath.

The door opened sharply. "Where’s Jane?" Logan demanded, already irritated.

"She left," I said, easy as air.

"What?" He frowned.

"Emergency in Europe. She took the assignment."

"What?!" His voice rose. Sky startled.

"It was her choice," I said, my tone deepening. "And I need her."

"Damn it!"

"You can’t leave the country," I added, calm and final. "I’m warning you, Logan."

He stared at me, then turned and left without another word.

Damon exhaled. "He’s either in love—or obsessed."

Sky was already drifting. I patted his back, letting sleep claim him. When the wedding ended, Damon lifted him gently and carried him upstairs. Laura, Damien, and the twins had left hours earlier; by now, they’d be back at the mansion. That left the four of us in the house—though Logan would surely retreat to the lair, hunting her shadow across maps and screens.

I laid Sky in his crib. Damon and I returned to our room, the door closing on the quiet promise of stolen time. Clothes fell away. I was naked beneath him when—

"Mama!"

Damon sighed, rolled off, and tugged on his boxers. Sky stood in his crib, arms raised. "Foodie."

"Hungry?" Damon asked, glancing back at me. I covered my chest, then my eyes drifted—unhelpfully—to him. Desire hadn’t dimmed at all.

"There’s a biscuit in the fridge," I said gently.

Damon moved with practiced ease. Sky clapped while the snack warmed. A bottle followed. Damon fed him on the sofa, patience fraying by the second as our son savored every bite, every sip.

"Please," Damon muttered. "Finish quickly, Sky."

When Sky was done, Damon cleaned him up and laid him back down. The nanny robot hummed to life with a soft song. Sky clapped, giggled, then slowly surrendered to sleep.

Damon returned to bed, kisses warm and insistent. I checked the tablet—Sky was already dozing. Lights dimmed, save for the small lamp by the crib. Damon slipped beneath the covers, between my legs, and I sighed, grounding myself in him.

"Can you focus on me now, my love?" he asked.

I nodded.

We moved carefully, quietly, a language learned over years. We were close when my phone began to blink, relentless. I tapped his shoulder.

"Just a few seconds," he whispered.

When it was over, breathless and soft, I reached for the phone.

"Rome is down," I breathed. "Fuck."

"Sexy," Damon murmured behind me.

I was already dressing. I cupped his face, kissed him once. "Stay with our little one."

"I will. We’ll check on you when he wakes."

I nodded and disappeared into the underground passage.

The control room was chaos—voices overlapping, screens flashing red. Lore was already moving, fingers flying, issuing commands, erasing footprints as if they’d never existed.

"They can’t know I’m alive," I said quietly.

Lore didn’t look up. "I know."

"I owe you. Again."

He snorted. "I just want a break after this."

I smiled. "Granted. We’ll plan it."

I sat at the glass chess table, pieces shifting under my touch. No bloodbath. Just relocation. Satellites moved, shadows redirected.

"Jane’s still in the air," Logan muttered from the corner. "Livana—"

I met his eyes. He wanted the field. I needed him elsewhere.

The board was set. And the game, as always, would move at my pace.