Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 334: Game on!

–Damon–

I replayed every incident inside the mansion through the footage.

The children were scattered across the wide living room, their laughter and noise filling the space. Meanwhile, my wife slept over my lap—peaceful, untouched, as if the chaos around her bent to her will.

She hadn’t even stirred.

No one else was available to tend to them. Our grandparents were out for their monthly checkup. Jane was preparing dinner with my mother-in-law. Logan was roaming the property, inspecting security. Caine was with his wife and newborn. Alyssa and Lore were locked away in the library for their online class.

As for Laura and Damien—they were in their home office, working remotely.

Which made it all the more unusual.

For those people to barge in here, asking for my sister’s name...

They were impulsive. Sloppy. Unorganized.

Amateurs.

I set the tablet aside and slowly caressed my wife’s silver hair, letting the strands slip through my fingers.

"Kids... how about a nap?" I asked.

They all looked at me.

And ignored me.

Sky—always restless—continued running around, with Andro chasing after him.

I let my hand drift down my wife’s waist, to her hips, gently rubbing. Then lower—resting over her navel.

The thought lingered.

Is she pregnant?

She hasn’t told me. Not yet.

"My love..." I murmured, my hand still tracing the curve of her hips. "I miss you."

"Hmm..." she only hummed, still half-asleep.

"Let’s make love," I whispered against her ear.

Choco, playing with the children, suddenly howled as Sky climbed over him, gripping his collar like a conqueror claiming territory.

Choco howled again, indulging them.

"We can’t."

"Why?"

For a moment, I thought—finally—she would say it.

That she’s pregnant.

"Because no one will watch the babies."

"Oh..." I exhaled softly. "I see."

I gave her a gentle squeeze on her butt cheek—

—and she immediately swatted my hand away.

Andro suddenly fell off Choco’s back.

Choco quickly sat down, nudging his muzzle against Andro’s face as the boy teetered on the edge of tears.

"Ouchie?" Sky asked, crouching in front of him. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Andro sat up, pouting, rubbing the back of his head.

"Come here," Livana said softly as she sat up.

Andro ran straight to her.

She rubbed the back of his head, pressing a kiss on top of it. Tears streamed down his face while Sky hovered beside him, gently patting his back.

"Love, please get some ice."

I stood immediately and headed to the kitchen.

I grabbed an ice bag from the first aid kit, filled it, then returned to them. Sitting beside her, I handed it over as Livana carefully pressed it against Andro’s head.

"Where else does it hurt?" she asked gently.

He only pointed to the back of his head, staring up at her with wide, shining eyes—completely captivated.

She wiped his tears.

"It’ll go away."

Choco sat beside him like a trained guardian. Andro rested a small hand on his head.

Then Livana pulled Andro onto her lap.

Sky’s lips wobbled. His eyes clouded—like a storm about to break.

He grabbed Andro’s arm, trying to pull him away.

"Hey... it’s okay, Sky," Livana soothed.

I picked Sky up and placed him beside her. He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist.

"He’s very clingy," I muttered.

Livana gently moved Andro beside Sky and guided our son’s hands to hold the ice pack against Andro’s head.

Sky didn’t cry loudly—but tears still slipped down his cheeks.

Livana wiped them away.

I glanced at the twins watching the scene unfold, then Zendaya stepped closer.

"Why is Sky crying? Is he ouchie too?"

I brushed my fingers through her soft curls, chuckling quietly as I leaned down to whisper—

"Sky doesn’t want his mom to care for anyone else."

"Oh... that’s baddie."

"Hmm..."

I didn’t correct her.

Because it wasn’t wrong.

I was the same.

Possessive.

Completely.

Zayvier suddenly ran toward the door, chasing after a ball—only to stop and run back when he saw something outside.

"Dada!" he shouted.

"What is it?"

"Ando! Mommy!"

My eyes widened.

I turned to my wife—who casually flipped her hair like nothing mattered.

What is she planning?

"Liva," I called, already standing. "Babe, come on."

"Hmm... just let Tyrona in."

"No." I hissed, moving quickly toward the door to shut it.

Tyrona’s car had already pulled up. She hadn’t stepped out yet, but Zayvier recognized her—she had been the one who dropped Andro off.

"It’s fine," Livana chuckled.

I exhaled sharply, irritation crawling under my skin as I returned to her.

I wanted to hide her. Remove her from sight. Lock her away where no one could see her—touch her—breathe near her.

But she pulled me back.

And sat there like a Queen.

Untouchable.

Unbothered.

"Andro, mommy’s here!" Tyrona called out.

I stepped back as Livana gently stroked Andro’s hair.

The moment Tyrona saw her—

Her eyes widened.

Too wide.

Her purse slipped from her hand. Even from here, I could see it—panic flooding her veins, her body unraveling. If I could hear her heart, it would be deafening.

"Hello, Tyrona," Livana greeted softly. Her voice was light, calm—cruel in its gentleness.

"Mommy!" Andro waved.

"Li—Livana... but you’re dead..."

"I was," she giggled, lifting Andro’s chin as he smiled up at her.

"This... this can’t be..."

She staggered backward, losing balance—

—but someone caught her.

David.

Just in time.

She fainted in his arms.

"Mommy!" Andro slipped from Livana’s hold and ran to her.

That’s when Livana stood and pressed a kiss against my cheek.

"Take her to the guest room," she whispered. "I want to play with her more."

A chill ran down my spine.

She wants to play with Tyrona... in front of her child?

Savage.

Cruel.

Beautiful.

But then again—

What did I expect from my wife?

An angel?

...even if she looks exactly like one?

–Tyrona–

Livana’s hands were around my throat—tight, merciless.

I couldn’t breathe.

Her grip crushed my airway, her fingers digging into my skin like iron claws. My neck felt like it would snap at any second. I clawed at her wrists, gasping, choking—

And then—

I shot upright in bed.

Air slammed into my lungs in desperate gulps. My chest heaved violently, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. My hand flew to my neck—I could still feel it. The pressure. The phantom bruising.

But there was no one there.

No Livana.

No hands.

Just silence.

I looked around. A room. Unfamiliar, yet controlled. Too clean. Too arranged.

I quickly slipped off the bed, my fingers trembling as I reached for my stilettos and slid them on. The cold floor sent a sharp chill through my feet, grounding me—but not enough to steady the violent rhythm in my chest.

I stepped out.

And froze.

Jane stood there, holding a tray. Her posture calm. Composed. Too composed. She smiled at me and extended the tray—a glass of water resting perfectly at the center.

I hesitated.

But my throat was unbearably dry, raw from that imagined—or not imagined—strangulation.

I took it.

"By the way, dinner’s ready," she said lightly as she turned away.

"I checked your BP earlier," she added, and I found myself following her despite the unease curling in my gut. "You were shocked when you saw Lilibeth, right?"

"Lilibeth?" I repeated.

"Sky’s stepmother." She sighed. "We were all shocked. She looks like Livana."

Her tone was effortless. Natural.

Too natural.

"Oh, is that why you fainted?" she continued, chuckling softly. "Don’t worry—you’re not the only one."

"You’re lying," I hissed under my breath.

But the words died the moment we reached the dining room.

I froze.

There she was.

A completely different woman—yet wearing the same dress.

Black hair cascading naturally. Skin pale, almost identical to Livana’s. But something was... off. Something I couldn’t quite grasp. Like a painting that looked perfect until you stared too long.

"Oh, hey," she greeted casually.

Even her voice sounded different.

"Mommy!"

Andro waved excitedly from his high chair.

A high chair.

They bought him one.

My gaze flicked across the table. The children were eating on their own, using matching cartoon utensils. No nanny hovering. No assistance. Discipline disguised as independence.

"You must be Andro’s mother," the woman giggled. "Well, it’s obvious—he’s calling you Mommy."

Damon pulled out a chair for her, his hand sliding to her waist, guiding her down with an intimacy that made my stomach twist.

Steaks were served.

I sat slowly, my senses heightened. Every sound—cutlery clinking, chairs shifting, quiet murmurs—felt amplified.

Alyssa was glaring at me. Beside her sat a boy. Calm. Observant.

Lore.

So that’s him. The one General Quinto has his eyes on.

My attention snapped back to the woman.

Livana hated meat.

She preferred salmon. Tuna. Strange varieties of fish. A pescatarian by choice, by discipline.

But this woman—

She was eating steak.

"You should stay. It’s already late."

I turned to Laura. She rolled her eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was directed at me—or at her.

"No, thanks..." I replied.

"Hm," the woman pouted.

Pouted.

Livana never pouted. Never acted cutesy.

"But Andro still wants to play," she continued sweetly. "My hubby bought them toys and promised cartoons on Disney Plus. Isn’t that right, baby?"

She turned to Damon, pouting again.

He smiled.

And kissed her.

On the lips.

"Ugh, disgusting," Laura muttered. "Can you not do that here?"

There was venom in her voice.

Interesting.

Even she disliked this woman.

But I wasn’t convinced. Not even close.

She is Livana—

and not Livana at the same time.

A perfect contradiction.

Is this what Carrie warned me about?

Should I be worried?

"Tep-Mama, carry!"

Skyler—Damon and Livana’s son—lifted his arms toward her.

"Oh no, baby. Stay there," she said gently.

He pouted.

And I watched as Andro reached over and patted him, comforting him in that innocent, clumsy way children do.

I didn’t touch my food.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

I just stared at the woman in front of me—

Determined to tear apart every detail until I find the truth.