Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 291: Games of Manipulation

—Lore—

She rode the merry-go-round near the food court while I ordered whatever she wanted. She looked happy, snapping selfies, light catching in her smile. I finally sat down, waiting for our order number to be called. The Star Flyer was epic—I think I had brief flashbacks of my entire life up there. I watched her from afar, having fun. Yeah. She deserved to have fun.

"Lore, come on!" she called, patting the horse beside her.

I stood lazily and stepped onto the carousel, climbing onto the horse across from her. It suddenly stopped. She burst out laughing.

"So... are we gonna wait?" I asked.

"Hm." She glanced around, then at the operator.

The carousel started moving again.

I gave her my best poker face while she filmed everything. She was laughing so hard it was contagious. Then she handed me her phone, showing the footage from the Star Flyer. My expression was legendary—absolutely traumatized—while she looked photogenic and radiant, having the time of her life.

She laughed again.

"I’m definitely putting this on my lock screen." She giggled.

My phone vibrated. A message from Livana. She was letting me handle the case—whether she said it outright or not.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Food’s ready."

The carousel stopped. I hopped off first and raised my hands to her. She bent down, placing her hands on my shoulders, and I held her waist as she gracefully hopped off. Perfectly balanced. Like she always was.

We headed to our table while I gathered our meals. I finally sat down, and we started eating—actually enjoying it. She didn’t look like someone who would ever eat food court food, but there she was, doing it anyway.

"Where do we go next?" she asked, taking a sip of water.

"I feel sleepy," I murmured.

"But we need to try every ride here."

Yeah. That’s what we needed to do.

We went on more rides, and eventually lined up for the Giant Star Wheel. I held her hand while we waited for the next gondola. When it arrived, we ran a little. I hopped in first, pulled her in after me, and shut the door quickly.

"That was fun." She sat down and peeked out the window. "There’s Okada." She pointed.

I followed her gaze—the building lit up with fine fireworks. It was far, but the view was perfect.

We took a few more rides, played with the token machines, and she decided she wanted a big plushie. So I won it for her. She was already happy before that—but still. Victory mattered.

Eventually, we headed to the parking lot. I stuffed the giant plushie into the backseat. She started the car.

As I closed the back door and opened the shotgun seat, a familiar voice echoed nearby—laughter. I turned my head and saw Theresa, snuggled up to another guy.

I couldn’t care less about her personal life.

I cared when she tried to hurt Alyssa.

I got into the car. Alyssa glanced at me.

"You look angry."

"I’m not," I said casually.

"Well, you look angry."

"Let’s go home."

"Hmm. Alright."

When we reached the mansion, the first thing I did was take a bath. After that, I contacted Gina. She immediately started a conversation—intriguing, tense. She said she had something important to tell me, but Alyssa had interrupted her multiple times before.

"Wait—say it all again," I said, facing the full-length mirror with only a towel wrapped around my waist.

"The girl you hooked up with? A few days ago—after you started ignoring her—she went to Alyssa and even threatened her. I wanted to tell you, but Alyssa told me not to. Also—"

"What exactly did she say?" I pressed my fingers to my temple.

"She said whatever you and Alyssa had should end. That Aly is stopping you from doing whatever you want." Gina exhaled. "So... what is it?"

So this was why she told Livana to end my contract.

But it didn’t matter anymore. The contract ended. And now I’d do whatever I wanted—just like she told me to.

I scoffed, briefly thinking Alyssa had already slipped away from me.

No.

I’d play the game like I always did.

"Okay. I got it."

"So she’s the one who sent that gift?"

"She is. But someone else is behind it. I’ll explain soon. Don’t tell Alyssa about this—I’ll handle everything."

"This is why I love you, Lore! You do everything and take care of everything for my best friend."

"I love you too, Gina. For now, we need to keep Theresa away from Alyssa."

"Got it. Sounds like a big plan!" She squealed. "And if you have a brother, where can you hook me?"

"My brother is twelve years older than you."

"It’s fine." She giggled.

"See you tomorrow."

"Okay."

I hung up and stepped out of the bathroom—only to find Alyssa standing there with a skincare tray. She turned around quickly. I smirked.

If only she knew how far gone I already was.

"Damn it! You told me to come back in an hour. So here I am. Why aren’t you dressed?"

I grabbed my boxers from the drawer.

"Don’t turn around, okay?"

"Geez."

I pulled them on, followed by my pajama pants, and tossed the towel into the laundry basket.

"Are you done?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She turned around and frowned.

"Put something on!" she hissed.

The door flung open, and David glared at me.

"Yeah. Put something on," he added, flopping onto the bed with his head near the edge.

I lay down beside him as Alyssa started cleaning our faces. I watched her.

Damn it.

She looked adorable.

Good thing David was here—because otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to keep my head straight around her.

Then I blurted out something that made her freeze right after she placed the serum sheet on my face.

"Marry me, so I can have this luxury of skincare."

David sat up so fast it was like a system reboot.

"What did you just say?" he snapped. "Are you trying to turn my sister into your personal maid?"

Yeah.

I’m dead.

–Damon–

Maybe my stare was too sharp—too predatory—as I watched my wife step out of the van, that elaborate headdress framing her like a queen returning to her throne. This was our mansion. Our territory.

She walked toward me without hesitation. I reached for her neck—not squeezing, never hurting—but curling my hand there to pull her flush against me.

"You’re late," I hissed low, possessive.

She laughed. Not apologetic. Not rushed. A villainess’s laugh—elegant, amused, entirely unafraid of me.

My other hand lifted her chin. Half her face was hidden by the headdress, shadows and silk doing nothing to dull how well I knew her.

"I hate it when you’re late," I said quietly. "You drive me insane."

"Hm." She hummed, fingers brushing my jaw, my cheek. "I’m sorry, husband."

"Mama!"

Sky came barreling toward us, and before I could pull her back again, I bent down, claimed her mouth in a brief, searing kiss—and finally let her go.

I watched as Livana knelt and scooped our son into her arms.

"Alright," she said softly, kissing his cheek, "Mama’s going to make you something today."

I locked the door behind us, my gaze flicking once toward the perimeter, toward Livana’s security—positions correct, posture tight. Only then did I turn back inside.

I followed her down the hall—until my mother-in-law stood waiting, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

"Did you ever hurt my daughter?" she asked, squinting at me.

I chuckled and scratched the back of my neck, though I felt the weight of the question.

"Of course not."

She didn’t soften. Not even a little.

I retreated—wisely—after Livana into the kitchen. She finally removed the headdress and coat, set them aside with precision, then tied on her apron and washed her hands thoroughly, as if nothing in the world could disturb her rhythm.

"We need to talk, Damon," my mother-in-law called.

I looked at Livana for a moment longer than necessary. She knew. She always knew when I needed saving. She only smiled at me—sweet, calm, infuriatingly serene.

"Bye-bye!" Sky waved at me.

Annoying.

"Liva," I muttered.

"I’ll make sure your favorite is ready after your little meeting," she said lightly.

I followed my mother-in-law down into the Nest, expecting a lecture. What I got instead was history.

She laid out the data—crime records from three decades ago. The fracture. The moment both families severed ties after Braxton was nearly wiped out.

It was a long con. A meticulous manipulation by Dela Vega.

My father. My grandfather. Both convinced that Braxton had sold them out—when in truth, they’d been maneuvered into believing Dela Vega’s narrative. Even dragging me into a contract meant to replace the one broken with Braxton.

"So," I said slowly, "Livana and I were meant to marry... if none of this had happened?"

"Yes." She laughed softly. "Fate has a sense of humor, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "It does." Then colder, firmer—"And I won’t let anyone else marry my beloved."

She handed me a drive.

"Use this with your Shadows. Dela Vega stole something from me. Tyrona is using it against your family."

"Information," I muttered, jaw tightening. "That explains how she gets intel so easily."

"Yes. She was involved with the Madrigal heir—now dead. And that’s only the surface."

I nodded once.

"I’ll handle it."

"Remember," she continued, "she’s also working with Carrie and Casey. Casey had her own connections. Past lovers... possibly Carrie’s real father."

My jaw dropped before I could stop it.

"So your husband was cuckolded by the mistress?" I blurted out.

She laughed. Actually laughed.

"He’s not my husband anymore," she said breezily. "Just my sperm donor." Arms crossed, posture flawless—tyrannical, manipulative, angelic all at once.

"Thank you, Mom." I leaned in and kissed her temple. "You’re the best mother-in-law a man could ask for."

She smacked my chest.

"I’m your only mother-in-law."

I laughed—because she was right.

The best.

And the only.