Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 299: Clingy Koala

–Livana–

I am on my period, and I am thoroughly annoyed at my husband for denying me another round last night—only to fall asleep like an infant afterward. The audacity. Still, my head is throbbing with that familiar, pulsing ache that arrives with my cycle, so sleep is non-negotiable. Before that, however, Lore needs to take over something important.

I sip my tea slowly, the warmth seeping into my palms as I monitor the data he sent last night. Numbers and movements align on the screen like chess pieces awaiting my next command.

"Mama," Sky insists, crawling into my lap. I set the teacup carefully on the side table and glance at Damon, who is still buried in work on the other side of the room.

"I wav yooo." He presses a kiss to my cheek.

"I love you too." I return the gesture, kissing his forehead and pulling him closer. He melts into me instantly. He has been especially clingy lately—perhaps because his father keeps insisting he sleep apart from us. Tonight, and the nights after, he will sleep with us. That is not a negotiation.

I glance back at the monitor. Lore is riding his favorite large bike, Alyssa seated behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist. A perfect picture of reckless youth and fragile affection. Lore isn’t a teenager anymore—twenty or twenty-one, I believe—but some men never truly leave that age behind.

Damon once wanted us to be like that in our youth. But that Chapter has closed. He is content knowing I was his first in everything—from my first kiss to the deepest intimacy. Some victories are timeless.

"My sunshine... my shine shine..." Sky sings softly, off-key and earnest.

"Tita Aly is here," I tell him gently. "Would you like to play with her?"

"No. Mama." He tightens his hold on me.

"Alright." I kiss the crown of his head. He smells like himself—warm skin, clean hair, movement. My baby.

"Amore mio... stavo pensando di andare a Firenze questo mese. Vieni con me?"

(My love... I was thinking of going to Florence this month. Will you come with me?)

Damon says from behind his screen, his Florence accent rich and indulgent, pure Italian velvet.

Sky lifts his head instantly.

"Amoreee!" He points at me proudly.

"Ma Sky, non puoi venire con noi. Saremo solo io e la tua mamma."

(But Sky, you can’t come with us. It’ll be just your mom and me.)

"Mama," Sky complains, pointing accusingly at his father. He understands more than he lets on. Damon speaks to him in pure Italian—Sky catches at least half of it. Intelligent, like his father.

I giggle and kiss his head. Then I look at Damon, deliberately slow.

"Dipende, marito mio. Potrei anche non venire con te."

(It depends, my husband. I might not go with you.)

He exhales dramatically. "You are unbearably sexy when you speak Italian."

Then he stands. "Alright, Amore. Let’s take Sky upstairs."

"No!" Sky clings to me like a koala, his little arms locking tight.

"Why not?" Damon asks him.

"Mama, wav, Mama."

I kissed his hair again, my living heater pressed to my stomach. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"I see," Damon sighs. "You are far too attached to your mother."

The elevator doors open and Lore steps out.

"Tito!" Sky shouts, pointing.

"Hello," Lore greets softly, kissing Sky’s head.

"Please take care of this," I tell him calmly. "I’m not feeling well."

"Sure thing."

I stand and carry my son toward the elevator.

"What about me?" Damon calls.

"Work on your own," I reply without turning back. "I’m not feeling well."

Sky waves enthusiastically. "Bye! Bye!"

"Little rascal," Damon mutters. I only chuckle.

Upstairs, Alyssa is already playing with the twins. I set Sky down and he charges toward them.

"Tita!" he screams, hugging her legs.

"I’ll be taking a break, Aly."

Sky runs back to me and raises his arms.

"Don’t you want to play with your aunt?"

He waves at Aly, then reaches for me again. I lift him and carry him to our bedroom. The bed is immaculate—freshly changed, black sheets smooth and cool.

I clean him gently, change his diaper, wipe his feet and face. I do the same for myself, then slip into something oversized and soft—my husband’s clothes. They smell like him.

I give Sky his milk. He taps the pillow, lies down, and drinks quietly. I reach for my tablet and check on Lore and Damon—already chatting, already planning Lore’s proposal to Alyssa.

Too fast. Too eager. They never learn. A woman’s heart is not a battlefield to conquer—it is a kingdom to be invited into.

I sigh and set the tablet aside.

I snuggle closer to my son. The headache eases.

"Mama," he murmurs, placing his small hand on my head. He pats gently. "Ouchie?"

"Yes," I whisper. "But it’s all better now. Because of you."

My little Sky.

My calm.

My constant.

–Damon–

Lore is serious about marrying my sister. Fine. I’ll let him plan it—for now. I’ll only step in if something goes wrong. I can see his sincerity toward Alyssa, but I won’t be naive. If he’s marrying her to get what he wants, I’ll know.

And when I do—

I’ll end it.

"We’ll also have a prenup," I said calmly.

"Sure," Lore replied casually, still checking something on his screen. "By the way, Tyrona is dating someone new. He looks like her deceased ex-boyfriend. Alejandro."

I slowly turned my swivel chair toward him.

"What?"

Lore zoomed in on the man’s face. He looked exactly like Alejandro—yet not quite.

"Could be his brother," Lore muttered, already running facial recognition and background checks. A few matches popped up. I stood and moved closer. "He looks familiar."

"Hm." Lore narrowed his eyes. "Found him. Henry Romano."

He pulled up FBI records next.

Henry Romano—on a watch list.

Interesting.

"Oh. I remember now." Lore snapped his fingers. "He spoke to Livana about ten years ago. Charity gala in Paris."

He smirked. "I was still a baby in diapers."

I frowned. "Are you serious? You were ten."

"I’m very serious," he said smugly. "My brain’s always been sharp."

I crossed my arms, testing him. "So what were you doing there?"

"I was with Aunt Ines. She was monitoring her daughter’s solo fieldwork."

Specific. Precise.

"I see." I nodded once.

"Can you pull up the footage from Paris?" I grinned.

Lore did—instantly.

There she was.

Livana.

Purple gown. Tube dress. High slit on the left. Heavy diamonds around her neck. The diamond hairclip alone cost me half a million. I’d given it to her through her mother.

She was devastating.

"Wow," I murmured. "She’s so damn sexy."

I dragged Livana’s chair beside Lore and sat down. She moved gracefully, speaking fluent French, charming everyone around her. Bodyguards flanked her on both sides.

I read her lips.

I’d heard her French once before.

Dangerously beautiful.

"Alright," I said, standing. "I’ll finish my work later."

"Can Alyssa come down here?" Lore asked.

I tilted my head. Livana wouldn’t like that.

"She can," a voice said calmly.

I looked up. My mother-in-law stood at the loft railing.

"But she’ll receive very limited information," Ines added.

"Isn’t that dangerous?" I asked.

"They won’t know," she shrugged. "If Alyssa agrees, everything here is for her eyes only."

"I’ll talk to her."

I locked my computer and headed upstairs. I found Alyssa snuggled between the twins, all three exhausted from playing.

"Aly," I called softly.

"Hm?" She looked up.

"Want to see Lore?"

She carefully slipped away, tucked the twins in, and followed me.

In the elevator, I turned to her. "Everything you see is confidential."

She nodded solemnly. "I won’t tell anyone. Even if it costs me."

An oath.

I escorted her out, waved once—and headed straight for the master bedroom.

My wife was curled around our son. I quietly took the empty baby bottle and set it on the side table. I slid in behind her, pulling her close.

My hand moved—

She stopped me.

"Mon amour... pourquoi ne pouvons-nous pas faire l’amour ?"

She answered softly, half-asleep.

"Non, mon amour. Je ne suis pas d’humeur."

Her voice—low, sleepy, French—was lethal.

So damn beautiful.

"Je t’aime, ma Livana."

"Hm..."

I kissed the crook of her neck and gently caressed her arm. Sky slept peacefully between us. The bed was huge—too huge. We could fit more children here. Three. Four.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed.

I grabbed the electronic heating pad, plugged it in, then checked the bathroom—pads stocked, everything in place.

When the pad warmed, I slid it beneath the shirt she was wearing.

She murmured a thank-you.

We kissed.

I didn’t push. I knew she was struggling.

"My love," I whispered.

"Hm?"

"Do you love me?"

She sighed. "Stop being ridiculous. Of course I love you."

I chuckled and pulled her closer. Sky shifted in his sleep, instinctively snuggling into her. I reached to move him—

She hissed at me.

"Fine," I muttered.

Then my phone vibrated.

I checked it.

David.

Accident.

I jolted upright.

"What’s wrong?" Livana asked instantly.

"It’s David," I said, already moving. "He’s been in an accident."

I grabbed clothes from the closet.

"What?"

"It’s okay, baby," I said quickly. "I’ll handle it. Stay with Sky."

That idiot probably drove too fast again.

And now—

he’s making me worry.