Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 280: Fling

–Alyssa–

I passed by the cafeteria and found Lore laughing—really laughing—at something a girl said. She was pretty in a quiet way, eyeglasses slipping down her nose, flashing him a smile that looked earned. He smiled back just as easily and even reached out, brushing something out of her hair like it was instinct.

My heart sank at the sight. The drop was sudden, cruel.

She must be smart.

Lore is exceptionally smart—brilliant, actually. A geek in the most dangerous way. And I’ve always had this awful, lingering thought that he hates girls like me. Rich girls. Too polished. Too girly. Girls who love cakes and handbags and jewelry. I lifted my left hand without realizing it, my thumb grazing the alexandrite he gave me. It shimmered—changing colors like my mood, like my hope.

"Oh," Gina murmured. "Aren’t you going to approach Lore?"

"Mm, not really." I forced a shrug. "They’re probably in a group study."

"Okay, then let’s eat. I’m starving."

I followed her to the other side of the cafeteria where they were making fresh sushi maki. I ordered too much—because eating feels easier than thinking. Ramen, too. Carbs to fill the hollow space. I told myself I’d run around the subdivision later, burn it off, outrun the ache.

I glanced back. Lore was still chatting, still smiling. The girl fed him a bite. He didn’t refuse.

"So... you guys didn’t break up?" Gina asked gently.

"We weren’t together in the first place," I said, honest to the bone.

We sat a few tables away—close enough to hear their laughter, far enough to pretend I wasn’t listening. I mixed wasabi into my soy sauce with unnecessary focus, ate my maki like it was a task I had to finish.

"My apartment is just nearby," the girl said, cheerful and confident.

The table beeper vibrated. Gina stood. "I’ll get it."

Someone slid into the chair across from me and reached for my chopsticks. I covered the plate on instinct.

"Oh, come on," Lore hissed, offended. He stole a piece anyway. I sighed and let him.

"By the way," he said casually, like he wasn’t rearranging my insides, "I have a project tonight. I won’t be home until tomorrow. I told Madam our practice is cancelled."

The words landed like a thin blade. Clean. Sharp.

I shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter, and kept eating to avoid a scene.

"Here’s our ramen!" Gina announced, setting the tray down.

I pulled mine closer, away from Lore.

"Wow," he scoffed. Then—just like that—he reached into my bag and took my car keys. "I’ll have someone pick you up. Go home straight." He patted my head, gentle and familiar, and walked away.

I stared into my ramen. Checked my chest.

The pain was still there.

"Oh," Gina murmured. "He’s going with that girl."

I swallowed hard, praying the ache would fade if I ignored it. "I’ll get some tissues."

She stood. The moment she turned her back, my tears slipped out. I wiped them quickly, angry at myself. I hate this—hate being this emotional. PMS, I told myself. It has to be PMS.

Gina returned and handed me a napkin. "It’s table napkin," she whispered, "but it works." She sighed, soft and knowing. "Girl... you’re in love."

I stirred the ramen, hating how beautiful it looked.

"He doesn’t like me as a girlfriend," I said, my voice cracking despite my best effort. I kept eating anyway. "This tastes good."

She nodded. I nodded back. I wiped my face, blew my nose, smoothed myself back together.

"Wanna sleep over tonight?" I asked.

"Sure. Let’s get my things first."

We didn’t have afternoon classes. It should’ve been a good day—practice, laughter, normal things. Lore ditched me anyway.

When we reached the parking lot, I saw him kissing her near his Mustang. I looked away immediately, hoping Gina didn’t notice.

A Jeep stopped in front of us. The driver stepped out in a suit and opened the back door for me. The car was familiar.

I think Lore drives this one too.

–Livana–

There were more eyes now—too many for coincidence. Spies, assassins, curious predators circling the mansion hidden within this private executive subdivision. Still, we were safe. For now. Safety here was not an illusion but a carefully woven web of silence, steel, and surveillance. It meant only one thing: they knew. Or at least, they suspected that I was no longer dead.

The mansion breathed quietly despite it all. Minimal staff moved like shadows. Jane, Mom, and Amiliee handled everything themselves—measured, calm, capable women who understood that loyalty mattered more than numbers. Outside, maids from neighboring residences hurried back and forth, preparing for the upcoming party. Invitations had already been sent. Perfection was no longer a desire—it was a requirement.

"Kitty!" Sky giggled, rubbing Moon’s soft belly. The cat responded by exposing more of herself, tail flicking lazily, pleased by the attention. The sound grounded me—warm, real, innocent.

My phone buzzed.

Lore was taking a break. Good. That meant Alyssa wasn’t alone. I had already assigned bodyguards to her, discreet and female, the kind she wouldn’t immediately notice or resent. She was supposed to be at dance practice that afternoon. Instead, she chose shopping... and a spa. Typical Alyssa—escaping discipline with elegance.

"I’m hungry," Deanne murmured, her voice light but needy.

"I’ll get you something," I said, already standing. She nodded. Caine wasn’t around—Damon had left with him earlier.

The kitchen smelled rich and familiar—grilled meat, butter, heat. Jane had already prepared burgers, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back. Mom was still cooking, moving with practiced authority. I took one large burger for Deanne and bite-sized ones for the kids. I poured the drink Deanne loved without asking—sweet, cold, comforting—and returned to the living room.

Her eyes lit up when I handed it to her.

Sky bounced in place.

"Wow!" he squealed.

I wiped his hands with wet wipes, careful and thorough. He grabbed a burger with both hands and bit into it like it was a prize he’d earned.

"He’s fat," Deanne said bluntly, smiling. "So adorable."

I giggled softly. She wasn’t wrong. Sky had gained weight—healthy, solid, happy. I hated restricting his food. Instead, we drowned him in movement, laughter, and endless activity.

"Liva, I want to bite Sky."

I laughed and shook my head. "Focus on your burger, please."

After eating, Sky tugged at me insistently. He wanted Zayvier.

We found him in the game room. The air smelled faintly of wood and cards. Reagan and Wilbert sat at the table with Isabella and Olivia, poker chips stacked neatly between them. They were teaching Zayvier how to play—patient, amused, indulgent. He sat straight-backed, unusually serious for his age.

In the corner, Zendaya sat quietly, carefully mending her stuffed rabbit, tongue poking out in concentration.

Sky climbed onto Zayvier’s chair, curiosity overpowering boundaries. He reached for Zayvier’s cards.

"No, Sky!" Zayvier shouted, startled.

Sky’s face crumpled instantly. Tears followed, dramatic and loud.

I reached him before it escalated.

"You shouldn’t snatch your brother’s cards, my love," I said gently, lifting him.

"Soweee," he said quickly, sincerity spilling from the word.

Grandma Olivia smiled and slipped him one card. The effect was immediate—tears gone, joy restored.

"I’ll join the next round," Deanne said, and everyone agreed.

I placed a high chair beside the table for Sky, giving him a few cards and poker chips of his own. He examined them seriously, mimicking the adults.

I moved toward Zendaya, who was now feeding her rabbit tiny pieces of greens.

"Baby, we need to clean up the poop," I said softly.

She nodded without complaint.

I guided her hands, showed her how to scoop it into a small garbage bag, how to wipe the rabbit gently. She followed every instruction carefully, earnest and precise. When we were done, she released the rabbit, satisfied.

I wiped her hands, cleaned her up, then placed her on a high chair beside Sky, giving her cards and chips too as another round began.

Zayvier was catching on frighteningly fast. Not even three years old, and he already understood patterns and patience.

Sky, on the other hand, dozed off quickly—head drooping, breath slowing.

"I’ll leave the kids with you," I said, but Zendaya caught my hand.

"Are you okay staying here, Sky?" I asked softly.

"Ok!" he replied, already half-asleep.

I took Zendaya with me downstairs. The kitchen hummed with quiet activity. I helped prepare afternoon snacks, then taught her how to clean up afterward. She was careful, attentive, eager to please.

She didn’t complain once.

Watching her, something settled deep in my chest—warm and aching.

I wanted my own baby girl. Zendaya wouldn’t be lonely then.

I finally sat with her on the sofa, letting her choose what to watch. My phone buzzed again—Lore.

"Okay," I said calmly, answering. "Your sister-in-law went shopping. I can’t go there—I’m busy."

"Yes, I understand," I added, rubbing my temple. "I have men following her."

A pause.

"Are you enjoying it?" I asked.

"Yes," he chuckled. "I have to go. This one’s clingy."

"Enjoy," I said flatly.

Lore was a man. He lived by his rules. But my little sister was bleeding quietly from a love she wasn’t allowed to have.

I sighed, the feeling complicated and sharp.

"You sick?" Zendaya asked.

I shook my head and pulled her into my arms. She hugged me back easily, naturally. I rested my head on her lap. She stroked my hair, kissed my head—unprompted, instinctive.

When I realized her leg had gone numb, I adjusted. She curled beside me instead, small and warm. We lay there watching her favorite show.

Time passed.

My thoughts drifted—to family, to children, to the fragile illusion of peace. I wanted this every day. I wanted to protect them, to stay visible, present.

But visibility was dangerous.

If they knew I was alive... hiding was the only way to keep them safe.

"I love you, Zendy."

"I wavyou," she said, kissing my cheek.

I kissed her forehead.

My phone buzzed again. Alyssa had gone home. She bought alcohol—made one of the bodyguards purchase it for her.

I closed my eyes briefly.

Poor Aly.

Her first heartbreak.

Her first unrequited love.