CHAPTER 187: THE GENTLEMAN

–Damon–

It must have been the longest sleep of my life. I actually felt rested—a rare blessing. My wife was snuggled beside me, breathing softly, her hand draped over my crotch... probably by accident, but my body didn’t care for technicalities. The moment I felt her touch, I woke up with a painfully eager morning erection.

I sighed quietly, choosing instead to savor her loveliness. Gods above, even half-asleep she looked divine—my little empress of chaos wrapped in silk and moonlight. I took her hand gently, lifting it to my lips so I could kiss her wrist. She let out a soft moan and instinctively turned her back to me.

I wasted no time spooning her, fitting her body perfectly against mine—my favorite place to be.

"I’m trying very hard not to make love to you," I muttered against her ear, my voice already thick with want. "But I caught your hand over my manhood."

"I’m horny," she whispered—sin incarnate wrapped in innocence—as she guided my hand up to her breasts.

"Alright... a quick and gentle one," I murmured, pulling her dress up and rubbing her slowly—discovering she hadn’t bothered wearing underwear. My woman. My undoing.

"Hurry," she breathed, impatient.

I chuckled and kissed her shoulder. "There’s no need to hurry. We’re not going anywhere."

She sighed—frustrated, demanding, irresistible.

"Alright, alright," I relented with another laugh.

"I need to pee first and wash up. Carry me," she commanded.

Of course I obeyed—gladly.

A quick, passionately gentle lovemaking session followed—quick only because she asked for speed, not because I lacked any desire to ruin her slowly. By the time we were done, she was in a much better mood, glowing like the sun I orbited my entire world around.

After breakfast with my mother, I helped her prepare for the hearing. She technically didn’t need to attend... which made her presence all the more unpredictable. I had already arranged contingencies—my way of shielding my pregnant wife from anything and anyone.

Grandma Olivia would be there. Grandpa Reagan as well. They would never miss this. I was also expecting Tyrona to crawl out of whatever hole she’d been hiding in. She had been silent for too long—it was suspicious. Either she was planning something... or she had already fled. Either way, I was ready.

I brushed my wife’s short hair back and gently placed her hat on her head.

"Perfect," I murmured. Then I peeked down her neckline. "Babe, I think we need to cover up those boobs."

"Hmm. I don’t think I’m wearing such a low neckline," she replied flatly.

"I can still see your cleavage."

"That’s because you’re looking down at me from behind."

I laughed, leaning forward to rub her tummy. "Can you handle it, my love?"

"Of course. I already have my Pawns ready."

"And I have my Shadows slithering from the dark," I added before kissing her cheek.

We headed downstairs. Laura was sitting on the sofa holding the twins while Damien was busy on his phone.

"I want to go," she said.

"No." Livana’s tone was firm. "Stay at home. You can watch the live footage from here."

Laura pouted—but Livana was right. She had just given birth, she was breastfeeding. She needed rest.

"Come on, sis," I teased. "Don’t be stubborn. You’ll drive your husband insane." I winked.

"Whatever. Just take care," she sighed.

"Oh, I’m borrowing one of the twins later," I added with another wink. Laura rolled her eyes, which only made it more worth it. I took my wife’s hand and placed it over my arm. "Come on, baby. I already have a plan on how to steal the twins," I whispered—loud enough for Laura to hear.

My wife laughed—soft and warm.

That laugh... was everything.

I love annoying her, but making her laugh—truly laugh—feels like casting sunlight straight into my heart. These changes in her... they undo me. She smiles at me now. Genuinely. Like I deserve it. I have been chasing that smile for the longest time, starving for it. And now, I finally get to keep it.

And God, I am over the moon.

—Logan—

I woke with a start, all limbs stiff from sleeping on the very corner of the room, far from where Jane lay. I stretched and glanced over: the cat was still curled against her, and she hadn’t moved. Something nagged at me — I thought I’d heard her telling me that she drank a sleeping pill. The late realization hit me. My skin chilled. I crawled over to check her breathing and, for a frantic second, felt my chest tighten.

From the next room came muffled moans. Wally, probably. I slid out and listened; the house was alive with small, private noises. In the next room, I found Keiko folded into the pillows of my old bedroom, looking impossibly small and wrong for this place. I cocked my head. She used to curl up next to me whenever I visited the country—old habits, old comforts. It was time, though. Time to gently unspool the thread I’d let wind around her.

I dropped to one knee and reached for her cheek. This beautiful, dangerous girl—the one who sold charm like a livelihood—didn’t deserve to be boxed in by other people’s potions and pity. I had spoiled her because I could. Now she needed something steadier. A career. A life she owned, not one borrowed.

She opened her eyes with a sleepy hum. "Master," she murmured.

"Keiko, why aren’t you in your room?" I asked, businesslike and warm.

She pouted, arms hugging herself. "Did you sleep with someone else?" she asked, petulant and delicious.

I laughed, smoothing a stray lock of hair from her temple. "Are you jealous?"

She sulked. I gave her a gentle smile. "Keiko. Tomodachi wo miteiru dake da. Shitto suru hitsuyou wa nai. Ore wa maee kara itta darou... ore ni koi wo suru na." ("Keiko. I’m only looking after a friend. There’s no need for you to be jealous. I told you before... don’t fall in love with me.")

I felt a prick of guilt for cutting her off so bluntly, but she sat up and leaned into me anyway. I patted her back like a captain steadying a nervous recruit.

"You said you wanted to be a painter," I reminded her softly. "Pursue it. I’ll back you."

She blinked up at me, voice small: "I only want you."

"Keiko, you know where we stand." My tone was gentle but firm. I didn’t want this to become anything I couldn’t control. There was no romance—only something comfortable and dangerous in equal measure. Keiko was good at games that made men forget; we enjoyed the company, and that was enough.

"You gave me allowances and gifts every holiday. Why don’t you love me?" she pressed, plaintive.

"You’re special," I told her, patting her shoulder. "But you must build a life that’s yours."

My chest tightened thinking of Laura—how I’d once loved her and forced myself to let go when she found happiness with Damien. I’d watched Damien be gentle with her, careful in a way that would have made me furious if I weren’t sensible enough to know when a fight wasn’t mine. If any man ever hurt her, I’d make their life hell. For now, vengeance stayed a promise for the future.

I nudged Keiko gently and cupped her face like an officer setting a soldier straight. "You can sleep more. I have matters to attend to."

She nodded and lay back down, rearranging herself with a slow, seductive ease. Temptation thrummed under my skin, but duty won the brief skirmish. Livana’s laboratory needed me—her team of scientists, the unborn child, the fragile order I’d spent years building.

I washed, dressed smart-casual, then knocked on Jane’s door and eased it open. She sat there, delicately patting the cat.

"Jane."

"I’m not ready to go out. Can I call in sick?" she asked, eyes heavy.

"Sure." I pressed my lips together, steady.

"Can you forget what you saw?" She asked in a low voice.

"I didn’t see anything." I lied with a smile and turned on my heel. "I’ll check on a few things. I’ll see you later." The door slid closed.

The door to Wally’s room opened then, and two girls tumbled out giggling. Wally followed, fully dressed and grinning like he’d won something trivial and delightful.

I laughed as we walked into the kitchen together. "Can you make something light for Jane? She’s not feeling well."

"Sure," Wally said, still grinning. "I’ll make sure she doesn’t lose her appetite."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it.

In the foyer Kenzo waited, we moved together to the bulletproof car in companionable silence. He wasn’t cleared for the lab’s deepest levels—Livana kept those places small and sacred. I respected that.

Back at Kei’s room dormitory in the lab, I found him preparing for bed.

"Kei," I called, and he turned with a tired smile. "Oh, Logan!"

"You need to shift your sleep pattern in two weeks. Don’t work tonight. Start mornings—no more graveyard shifts."

"What?" He blinked.

"I’m serious." I crossed my arms, voice flat with the kind of command that made people listen. "This is for your health. And for appearances—better they think you work nights than mornings. New schedule."

"Oh—okay. I’ll try."

I had to save these people from slow self-destruction—Jane’s sleepwalking terrified me. What if she’d hurt someone in the night and had no memory of it? That thought alone made my jaw clench. We couldn’t afford mistakes. Not now. Not ever.