Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 302: Children as Pawns?

–Livana–

It is already six in the afternoon, and my husband and son still haven’t arrived. They must have enjoyed themselves—grocery runs that turn into leisurely detours, aisles that become playgrounds. I sip my wine slowly, letting its velvet bitterness bloom on my tongue, as a delivery truck pulls away from the back door near the kitchen. Francis hops down first, followed by a few security guards, their presence precise and practiced.

I wait by the driveway, the gravel warm beneath my heels. A few minutes pass before the familiar van finally arrives.

Logan steps out first, lifting the children one by one as though they are precious cargo. My Sky runs ahead on his own, small feet pounding with purpose. I hear him before I see him.

"Mama! Mama!"

"I’m here, baby," I call softly.

He beams the moment he spots me, joy lighting his face like sunrise. He rushes forward, holding up his treasure with both hands.

"Look! Look!"

It’s a small collectible car—Hot Wheels, gleaming and proud in his palm.

"Oh," I smile, brushing my fingers over it. "Did you buy this?"

"No. Ando!" he exclaims.

"Ando?" I echo, drawing him gently into my lap.

"Ando," he repeats, solemn and certain.

I press my lips to the crown of his head. His hair smells like sunlight and movement.

"Hello, my love."

Damon approaches, lifting my chin before kissing my lips—unhurried, familiar. He sits across from me, eyes flicking briefly to the wine glass in my hand.

"Drinking wine?" he asks, amused. "Sky and the twins made a friend."

"Really?" I glance down at my son. He grins, chocolate smeared faintly at the corner of his mouth. "His name is Ando?" I ask. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"It’s Andro," Damon corrects. "Tyrona’s son."

"Hm?" My brows lift slightly.

"Apparently, the kid is with a nanny and a bodyguard. They have a villa somewhere near the grocery store."

"I see," I nod.

How interesting. Sky gains a friend—while the child’s mother remains our enemy. Irony has always enjoyed my company.

"Why are you drinking, my love?" Damon asks, tilting his head. His elbow rests against the arm of the sofa, chin propped on his hand, watching me closely.

"I just feel like drinking," I answer lightly.

"Hm." He hums. "Did you sleep well?"

"Enough," I shrug. "I’ll be out of the country for ten days."

"I’ll be out of the country too, with Damien."

"Why not take Sky with you?"

"It’s business, my love."

"No." I meet his eyes. "Take Sky with you."

He chuckles. "Fine."

"And Jane," I add.

"Got it."

I stand, lifting my son easily into my arms.

"Let’s have dinner," I murmur. "I plan to sleep more."

"Sky! Sky!"

Zayvier comes running, nearly tripping over his own excitement.

"Foodie. Jane!"

Sky squeals and runs after him, laughter echoing down the hall. Damon watches me, eyes narrowing just slightly.

"Where do you plan to go?" he asks as he stands, pulling me gently by the waist, fingers possessive as they lift my chin.

"I’ll just retrieve something," I mutter.

"Hm." He kisses my lips again. "I know you’re not okay," he murmurs. "I don’t know how to comfort you—but if you need a sex toy, I am here."

I laugh softly and smack his chest.

"Let’s go to the pantry."

We find the trio there, already pulling jars and canned goods from the boxes, helping Jane and Logan fill the shelves. The room smells of cardboard, metal lids, and dry grains.

"We can add a few more little helpers," Logan says with a wide grin. "One or two will be from us."

"Oh, please," Jane replies casually, pouring pasta into a glass jar. "You can just borrow one of them."

Damon laughs as I tug him back toward the dining room.

"Wash your hands," I say lightly.

He does. I begin setting out the side dishes—meat, fish, carefully plated. The table has been ready for hours, waiting like a patient host.

"Where are Aly and Lore?" he asks.

"Lore is still asleep."

"And Aly?"

"She’s taking care of him," I reply.

Everyone gathers at the table. I feed Sky while Laura and Damien tend to their twins. I eat only baked salmon—nothing more. Then I excuse myself, leaving my son in my husband’s care.

Down in the Nest, Mother is already issuing commands for another operation. Her voice is calm, unwavering—each word placed with surgical precision.

Elegant. Exact. Untouched by chaos.

They say I inherited that from her.

Last night, however, was a mess. I should have expected it. That boy—I recruited him myself. One of the best. I knew his struggles, traced the cracks in his loyalty long before they surfaced. I forgave him for betraying us.

And yet, despite everything, he chose to save us in the end.

Even broken pieces, when placed correctly, can still protect the kingdom.

–Deanne–

After dinner, my husband helped me with my bath—scrubbing my back, my legs, every place I can no longer reach without effort. Yes, that handsome husband was very attentive. His hands were warm, steady, familiar. I caught sight of my reflection in the fogged mirror—visible stretch marks tracing my skin, pale and light, almost like soft claw marks etched by time.

He noticed them too.

Carefully, patiently, he applied cream to every mark, never rushing, never missing a spot. His touch was consistent, reverent. Every night, without fail, he massages my legs until the tension melts out of me.

"I’m really fat," I pouted, staring at myself in the mirror.

My breasts are bigger. He loves those.

"Still gorgeous," he murmured, kissing my tummy.

I changed into my dress, and he helped me onto the bed, arranging the maternity pillow around me like a fortress. I lay on my left side, facing his space. He turned off the lights, exhaled deeply, and crawled into his side of the bed.

He kissed my lips.

Two seconds later, he was asleep.

I stared at him, amazed—still wondering how someone can fall asleep that fast. I wish I could do the same.

He must be exhausted.

I feel bad for Caine. Working himself to the bone even though he’s already crazy rich. Still, he keeps moving—securing more money, more safety, more layers of protection for our baby.

And our future babies.

I have money of my own—money the government can’t touch. If something ever happens to us, our child will be secure until he grows old.

I reached for his face and moved closer, pulling my maternity pillow in with me.

It’s only been a few months since we got married. Only a year since we crossed into something romantic. I was afraid to fall in love with someone useless. Someone careless. Someone who would hurt me.

But Caine is worth the risk.

"I love you, Caine," I whispered.

He snored in response.

I chuckled softly and caressed his face. As if summoned by touch alone, he stirred, smiled sleepily, and pulled me closer.

"I’m sorry, gorgeous," he murmured, hugging me tighter before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"It’s alright," I said gently. "Go back to sleep."

The moment his eyes closed, he was gone again—fast, effortless.

I wasn’t ready to sleep.

Carefully, I sat up, retrieved my laptop from the drawer, and logged into my accounts and investments. Numbers calmed me. Control always does.

I pouted slightly.

I already ordered a customized pair of shoes for Laura’s upcoming birthday. A month after that will be Damien’s—meaning I need another gift for that man.

They have everything.

It’s hard to find something they don’t already own.

Then, two months after that will be Sky’s birthday. His second birthday.

And that’s when I remembered.

Sky made his first friend outside the family.

And, ironically—

It’s Tyrona’s son.

–Tyrona–

I arrived at the villa at nine sharp. The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that settles only when everything is under control. I went straight to my son’s room and found him sitting on the carpet, playing—of all things—with a pearl hair clip perched proudly in his hair.

"Andro, baby," I called softly.

"Mommy!" He immediately scrambled to his feet and ran toward me. I knelt onto the carpet just in time to catch him. He hugged me tightly, and I returned it, breathing him in before gently pulling him back, my hands resting on his arms so I could look at him properly.

"Look, Mommy!" He pointed excitedly at the hair clip. "I got freenss, Zen-Zen."

"Hm?" My eyes lit up despite myself. "You got a female friend?"

He nodded enthusiastically, then toddled over and dragged an oversized plastic jar shaped like a bear—almost as big as his torso. He hugged it with effort.

"Sky! Sky gave."

I tilted my head slightly.

"Sky?" I asked calmly.

"Yes!" he chirped. "Purple eyes!"

I froze. Just for a fraction of a second.

"Sky Blackwell?" I asked carefully.

"Sky! Zen-Zen, Zay-Zay!" He lifted an airplane toy next, clearly high quality. My gaze sharpened when I noticed a name etched neatly along the side.

Zayvier.

So... he befriended the Carrington–Blackwell children.

Interesting.

"Carol," I called.

Carol stepped out of the bathroom, a garbage bag in hand. "Yes, ma’am?"

"Where did you go this afternoon?" I asked evenly.

"To the supermarket building nearby, ma’am."

"Hm." I nodded slowly. "So Andro played with the Blackwell children?"

"Yes, Sir Brent mentioned they were the Blackwells. Damon Blackwell was there."

I smiled—small, controlled—and gently caressed my son’s hair.

How convenient.

I lowered myself again to his level. "Do you like Sky’s daddy to be your daddy?" I asked lightly, as if it were nothing more than a passing thought.

My son frowned, clearly confused, tilting his head.

"Sky!" he suddenly declared, raising his voice. "I wan Sky!"

I chuckled softly. "You can have Sky as your playmate. Mommy will arrange that."

His face lit up instantly.

"Sky play here?" he asked eagerly.

"I’ll try to make that happen," I said smoothly. Then I looked up at Carol. "Carol, did the Blackwells invite Andro to their residence?"

"I don’t believe so, ma’am."

I nodded to myself.

That’s fine. I can arrange it.

After all, it’s a win-win situation—for me and my son.