Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 306: Cuteness Overload

–Damon–

I wanted to take the twins with us. But this had to remain an official business trip—with Baby Boss Sky in tow. Besides, we couldn’t let the birthday girl know where we’d be going to pick up her gift.

Sky looked excited, singing softly to himself. He’d had a good morning. He genuinely enjoyed playing with Andro—so much that the boy cried before leaving, refusing to go home. Poor little one. Always playing alone. Tyrona probably didn’t give him much attention.

"Wow, ayplane!" Sky pointed at our jet.

His excitement made me think of the twins again. But traveling with more children was complicated. Laura had insisted they stay behind, convinced this business trip was dangerous.

We settled inside the plane. Sky had his own seat. I glanced around my usual jet—partitioned, spacious, designed for both work and sleep.

The attendants greeted us, followed by the captain and co-captain stepping in.

"Woah." Sky’s eyes wandered as both men greeted him, handing him a miniature replica of my jet—small enough for him to play with.

"Tayku!" he said naturally, without prompting. He had charm woven into his bones.

I let him walk around while they checked the engine. Damien was still on the phone with his wife, sweet-talking her.

"Dada! Wok-wok!" Sky exclaimed, pointing at the fridge. "Foodie!" He clapped his hands.

Two attendants giggled as they opened it and let him choose.

"We’ll eat it later," Jane said as he picked a croissant, clutching it like a gem. He giggled and ran back to his seat, climbing up on his own and even attempting to fasten the seatbelt.

"Jane!" Sky patted the seat beside him.

She sat down just as the doors closed.

Cuteness overload. That’s what Alyssa would say.

The attendants began their safety briefing. Sky watched intently, even checking where everything was. Jane guided him, teaching him patiently.

I closed my eyes. My son’s laughter was enough music for me—though I preferred my wife’s laughter, her soft voice, her teasing warmth, and that beautiful sound she made when she was mine.

"Jane, wok... coouudsss."

"Yes," Jane smiled. "Those are clouds."

"Wow."

I opened my eyes and took my phone, snapping a photo of him with Jane. I sent it to my wife, even though we were on airplane mode. She’d receive it once we landed.

"Foodie," Sky said as Jane guided him back into his seat and took the croissant from him.

"I’m going to heat it, okay?"

Sky nodded.

Jane was prepared—as always. She’d packed Sky’s meals and snacks in advance, frozen and secured in the jet’s freezer. The attendants understood. My heir would never be poisoned. Jane handled everything concerning Sky.

A loud snore echoed.

I chuckled, checking on Damien in his capsule—fast asleep. I leaned back and relaxed, half-listening to Jane and Sky discussing food. I opened my eyes again when Jane gently reminded him to eat only a little.

He listened to Jane.

He never listened to me.

"Jane, I’ll head to my capsule," I said.

She nodded.

I lay down and closed my eyes—until I heard my son’s voice.

"Dada."

I looked up as he tried to climb in. Jane lifted him onto me. He took his baby bottle from her.

"I wav you," he told her.

She bent down and kissed his forehead. "I love you too, baby."

He snuggled into me, holding his bottle, then tapped my cheek gently.

"Dada," he looked up. "Shun shine!"

"Got it," I nodded, starting to sing.

He hummed along, watching me closely. I yawned. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Dada, shing!" he insisted.

Of course. He always gets what he wants.

I tapped his bottom lightly while singing. He handed me the bottle, which I slid into the cup holder, then sang the song all over again.

Then he placed his tiny hand over my mouth—silencing me.

"I wav you, Dada."

"I love you too."

I wanted to roll my eyes. So that’s how he tells me to stop—just cover my mouth.

Still, it was a win-win.

My wife wouldn’t stop laughing if she saw us like this.

I miss my Queen already.

–Laura–

Again—Tyrona arrived barely three hours after Sky left with his dad, uncle, and Aunt Jane.

Andro was already searching for him.

Poor little thing.

The twins immediately noticed and pulled him toward their toys, instinctively trying to distract him. Still, he asked about Sky, his small voice hopeful. The twins answered in perfect unison, as if they had rehearsed it.

"He fly!"

That was their explanation.

Tyrona sighed, clearly exhausted, and glanced at the nanny.

"I’ll be off now," she said flatly, turning on her heel and leaving without so much as a thank you—or even acknowledging my presence.

I rolled my eyes and settled onto the sofa, laptop balanced on my thighs.

Not long after, David arrived.

I heard him whistling at Tyrona on purpose—clearly trying to irritate her. Then came his father, pushing the wheelchair. He halted the moment he spotted the kids. Three of them. Tall for their age. His eyes scanned the room, clearly searching for one more.

"Well," he said, puzzled, "there are three... but where’s the little one?"

"Tito!" Zendaya was the first to react. She jumped up and ran toward David. Zayvier followed closely behind.

David reached out with his uninjured arm and took Zendaya’s hand.

"Hello, Princess."

He patted Zayvier’s head next.

Zendaya tilted her head, curious, and pointed. "What’s that?"

She was staring at the white cast on his left arm.

"Well," David said proudly, "Uncle was a hero."

I rolled my eyes as he finally made his way over to the sofa.

"Hello, David," I said, scanning him from head to toe. "You’re alive."

"I am," he replied casually, then glanced at Andro. "And who might this be?"

Andro stared at him for a long moment, studying him seriously.

"This is Andro," I explained. "Tyrona’s kid."

David gasped.

"He came here to play with the kids," I added casually.

Andro suddenly pointed at the cast.

"You hurt?" he asked softly, pouting.

David nodded.

After that brief introduction, the kids decided the cast was a perfect canvas.

They sat David on the carpet, his injured arm resting carefully on the table, and colored it like Picasso had possessed them. He didn’t protest—not even once.

It was... adorable.

I watched them quietly, hoping Andro wouldn’t grow up like Tyrona—or his father. I hoped he’d stay gentle. Kind. I hoped he’d remain friends with my kids.

What I didn’t expect was his secretary to walk in.

High heels clicked sharply against the floor. Her hair was pulled into a clean bun, eyes sharp, documents and a tablet tucked neatly in her arms.

"Boss," she said coolly. "You’re here."

David tried to shrink into the sofa.

"You need to sign a few things."

"I’m injured," he pouted.

"You’re right-handed," she replied flatly. "I’ll wait for you in your office."

"Ugh," he groaned. "I just got discharged."

"I’ll wait," she repeated, not sparing him a second glance.

I laughed openly. David pointed at me accusingly, but he still let the kids finish coloring his cast. My sweet girl even grabbed the Polaroid and snapped a picture of their uncle, beaming.

"Alright," David finally said, standing up. "I still have work. I’ll come back to play."

Andro helped him up without being asked.

That alone told me something about the kid—his emotional intelligence, his quiet consideration.

"Thank you, Andro," David said warmly, patting his head.

Once David left, the kids returned to their games.

I snapped photos and sent them to Livana.

Big Sis: Adorable.

I smiled, pulled a pillow closer, and closed my laptop. The nannies were present—including Andro’s.

"I’ll be going to my room," I told them. "Please watch the kids."

They responded respectfully.

Moments later, Choco arrived, fresh from training. Zendaya ran to hug him, and soon all the kids were playing again.

Choco, our support animal, never reacted—even when tiny feet accidentally stepped on his tail. The kids apologized every time, patting him gently.

I went to Damien’s room—our room now.

I placed my laptop by the bedside and crawled into bed. His scent lingered in the sheets, wrapping around me instantly. It calmed me. Comforted me.

I missed him already.

I was half-asleep when my phone vibrated. I reached for it, hoping it was Damien.

It wasn’t.

I pouted and scrolled through our messages—this past year... then the year before... then the ones from before we were married.

So many late-night texts. Endless banter.

Then my teasing messages made me grin.

Me: I’m horny.

Damien: Go find a vibrator. Or better—use a muscle massager.

Me: Dumb ass, that’s too powerful.

Damien: Wait—did you try it before?

Me: Of course not, dummy!

I laughed quietly, my heart reacting all over again.

Damien: Where are you? I’ll help you use a vibrator.

Damien: Please note I’m abandoning my one-night stand. Call me a mighty hero.

Me: I’ll get off on my own. Who’s your one-night stand?

Back then, that question had carried a small ache. At the time, Damien was just my best friend.

Now?

I miss him.

I love him.

I just hope he comes back from his business trip before my birthday.