Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 279: Disguised

–Damon–

My wife stands out more in her disguise. To anyone else, she doesn’t look like Livana—not even close. Different posture, different cadence, a face softened by anonymity. But I know her. Every breath, every pause, the way the air shifts around her. I would recognize her in a crowd of thousands, blindfolded, bleeding, half-dead. So the disguise fools the world. It never fools me.

We headed to the pet shop—a massive one, polished floors, glass walls, and animals that cost more than most people’s cars.

"Wow," Sky pressed his face against the glass of an arowana tank. His breath fogged it instantly. "Fissssh... yummy!"

I covered my mouth, shoulders shaking as I looked away, biting back laughter.

"No, Sky! It’s a pet," Zendaya scolded him, hands on her hips. He pouted immediately.

"Foodie!" He jabbed a finger toward the fish—then another tank. "Foodie!" He grabbed my hand insistently and pointed again. "Foodie."

"We’re not buying it to eat, buddy," I said, crouching to his level. "It’s a pet."

His disappointment was instant and dramatic. Lower lip out. Eyes glassy.

"Come here, baby," Livana called softly.

Sky abandoned me at once, toddling into her arms like gravity itself pulled him there.

"Tito! I want!" Zendaya chirped, pointing at a white rabbit calmly munching on vegetables. "Tito..." She tilted her head, perfect pout deployed.

I sighed—defeated before the fight even began—and waved the salesman over. One female rabbit, premium enclosure, the works. I paid without blinking.

Zendaya clapped her hands as I lifted the cage. Victory dance, subtle but smug.

"How about you, Zay-zay?" I asked.

He scanned the place once, unimpressed, then shook his head.

"Okay," I said. "That’s all?"

My gaze slid back to Sky, still staring longingly at the fish tanks.

"Foodie..." he muttered under his breath.

"They’re not good to eat," Livana whispered into his ear.

He wrapped his arms around her neck instead, cheek pressed against hers.

We exited the pet shop, and I could feel it—the looks, the pause in conversations. We were a head-turner of a family, disguise or not. I handed the rabbit cage to Francis and took Zendaya and Zayvier’s hands, grounding them beside me.

"I never thought a young boss would explain dietary ethics to fish," Francis muttered.

I laughed openly.

It was already late. The kids had snacks earlier, but I knew that look—tired, hungry, edging toward chaos. We went straight to Chef Wally’s restaurant, into the VIP section sealed off just for us. The food arrived quickly, prepared ahead of time, still sizzling, the scent rich and comforting.

"Wow!" Sky clapped, bouncing in his high chair like he might launch himself.

"I made it special for you," Wally said, pointing at him. Sky clapped harder. Then Wally gestured at the twins. "And for both of you."

Zendaya picked up her utensils with effortless elegance, like she’d been born into candlelit dinners and linen napkins.

"Taykyuuu, Chef!"

"You’re welcome. Enjoy."

Livana murmured a quiet thank-you. We ate mostly in silence—the good kind. Somewhere else, Logan and Alyssa were probably being dragged into whatever elaborate plan my mother had for the upcoming party.

The twins ate on their own. Livana gently reminded Sky to slow down, her voice calm, patient. He ate like he’d just survived a famine.

I watched them—my wife, the twins, our son. Whole. Complete. Bodyguards occupied nearby tables, relaxed but alert.

"Do you like your new mom?" I asked Sky softly, nodding toward Livana. She sat angled away from the room, perfectly concealed.

She fed him a small piece of smoked salmon. He nodded enthusiastically and clapped.

I chuckled.

"Tito," Zendaya called, already demanding more attention.

I cut her steak into tiny, perfect pieces, then did the same for Zayvier without him even asking.

Dessert followed. Then we left.

The van was already packed—things Livana bought for herself, for the babies, and one very carefully secured Hermes box meant for my sister.

"Mama," Sky rubbed his stomach. "Sheeepy, mommy."

"That’s because you’re too full," Livana said, strapping him in. She did the same for Zendaya, keeping her close. I sat at the back with Zayvier, securing his belt myself. Francis took the front.

"Should we check on Alyssa and Lore?" I asked.

"Why?" Livana replied.

"Well, you bought him something really—"

"Lore is nineteen," she cut in. "Almost twenty. He needs that." She scoffed. "Don’t tell me you didn’t use the same thing when you were a teen?"

I laughed it off. If she only knew. If she knew how pathetic I was the first time I saw her—flat on my back in a corridor, humiliated, already lost.

Laura calls me pathetic for it. Livana ignored me completely back then.

That was the moment I decided I would become a man worthy of her.

"You have no idea, my love," I murmured behind her.

She turned her head slightly.

I winked.

–Alyssa–

Seriously? This guy is annoying. Clueless. Infuriatingly confident. Just—ugh. We bought way too much ice cream, not just for us but for the staff too. Right now, there are only two maids, and tomorrow there’ll be just one. So of course Mom decided this was the perfect time for a life lesson: clean our own rooms and apparently I should start learning how to make my own food. Tragic.

"I was thinking of a new set of workout—"

"Save me the horror," I cut him off, shaking my head dramatically. "This time, I’m sleeping. It’s already a miracle I survived our dance lessons." I grabbed my avocado ice cream and marched toward my room.

"Can I have half of that?" he asked, following me.

I shut the door right in his face.

"Are you on your period or something?" he called from outside.

I ignored him, plopped myself in front of the TV, and flipped through channels. A few minutes later, I realized I couldn’t finish the ice cream. Being generous—and slightly bored—I went to Logan’s room and knocked.

"You can have half," I said.

No answer.

I opened the door and froze. Logan wasn’t there, but a box was open on the bed.

"Lore?" I called.

Then I noticed what was playing on the television.

I froze.

My brain short-circuited. Naked people. Doing things I was definitely not emotionally prepared to witness.

Before I could even process it—

"BO!"

I screamed, dropping the ice cream as Lore laughed like he’d just won the lottery.

"Why are you watching that?" I hissed, mortified.

"Why are you in my room?" he shot back, eyebrow raised.

I picked up the ice cream—thankfully still covered—and shoved it into his chest. "Enjoy." I rolled my eyes and walked out.

"Hey," he called after me, laughing. "Wanna join? Maybe get some... lessons?"

I slammed my door shut.

My face felt like it was on fire.

I sat down, heart racing, and cursed my traitorous brain for immediately remembering Lore shirtless—his stupid muscles, his stupid confidence, the way he moved like he knew exactly how dangerous he was. Goosebumps prickled along my arms.

Absolutely not.

I shook my head hard. Get him out of your head. Now.

I went through my routine—bathroom, skincare, warm water—everything I normally do to calm myself down. Then I crawled into bed.

And still... sleep wouldn’t come.

Because my brain decided to betray me with vivid, unfair dreams where Lore was close, warm, teasing, whispering things that made my heart pound way too fast. I woke up flustered and frustrated, burying my face in the pillow.

Damn it.

He was literally just across the hall.

I stormed into the bathroom, filled a glass basin with ice water, and dunked my face in it like I was trying to reset my entire existence.

"Alyssa!" Lore shouted. I didn’t respond. "Oh—hey. Can I try that too?"

I lifted my head just in time for him to shove me aside with his hip and dunk his own face into the bowl.

"Hey!" I hissed. "At least change the water!"

He ignored me.

Then he grabbed my towel.

I stared at him, offended. "Unbelievable."

"Well," he said, wiping his face and winking, "you ruined my ritual."

"What ritual?" I asked, confused.

"You have no idea," he replied smugly. "You’ll understand once you’re eighteen."

I grabbed his arm before he could leave.

"What?" he asked.

"I’ll drive today."

His eyes widened in pure horror. "You? Driving? Passenger seat, Princess."

I scoffed and smacked him with the towel. "You bet."

If he only knew—Kai taught me how to drive properly years ago. Including drifting.

I got dressed quickly: jeans, sneakers, tank top. Skincare. No breakfast, as usual. Lore told me to wear a jacket. I lifted my leather jacket with a smirk.

"You happy now?"

He just rolled his eyes and took my Hermes laptop bag, holding it like it was made of glass. I walked straight toward his Mustang.

"Nooo," he whined. "Not my baby."

"Why do you even have a Mustang here?" I grinned.

"I customized everything in that car!"

"Well," I said sweetly, "now it’s my baby."

I peeled off the cover, admired it, and slid into the driver’s seat.

"Beautiful."

"No. I’m driving," he insisted.

"Just don’t scratch my bag," I warned.

He placed it carefully in the back seat, moved the bikes out of the way, and got into the passenger seat, muttering prayers and making the sign of the cross.

"Relax," I said, revving the engine with a smirk. "I won’t kill you."

"Please don’t," he muttered.

And honestly?

Seeing him nervous for once felt amazing.