CHAPTER 191: TO FEEL

–Deanne–

I arrived at the hospital just in time — barely a minute after Livana and Damien were rushed in. Dr. Green was already waiting at the ER entrance, giving short instructions to the nurses before they took her behind the curtains.

I tried calling Damon twice. Unreachable. Then I tried Caine. Also unreachable.

A knot of unease formed in my chest. For both of them to be out of reach... something must have gone wrong long before this phone call.

Aunt Amiliee arrived shortly after, carrying a change of clothes for Livana. She moved straight to her side, clasping her hand while Dr. Green examined her behind closed curtains. After a few tense minutes, they transferred her to a private room.

Livana looked calm on the surface, but there was a certain strain in her breathing — a kind of silent endurance she didn’t used to have. My biggest concern wasn’t her composure, but what might be unraveling beneath it. I followed them to the room, arms folded, thinking through too many possibilities at once.

Had Damon given in and made love to her? He had been restraining himself for months — I know that much. But Livana is not helpless, especially when she wants something. If she seduced him, he would have cracked.

My calculations spiraled. No — this wasn’t the time. Stress-induced complications made more sense... and yet my instincts wouldn’t settle.

When we were finally let into the room, Livana was lying down with her eyes half-lidded while Aunt Amiliee sat beside her. I took the chair at the other side of the bed, gently taking her hand.

"How’s Liva?" I asked calmly.

"She’s just stressed, that’s all," Aunt Amiliee replied.

"Stressed?" I echoed in disbelief. Livana didn’t do stress, not outwardly. She compartmentalized, refined everything into logic before it reached her nerves. For her to break equilibrium meant there was more beneath the surface — something she hadn’t told any of us. I sighed inwardly. Yes... she must be carrying more than she lets on.

We stayed by her side for almost two hours until Damon and Caine finally arrived. The moment they entered, Aunt Amiliee shot up and smacked Damon’s arm.

"Where were you?" she hissed.

"Sorry, Mom. We tried to get here right away. There was an ambush."

My eyes flicked to Caine — exhausted, sweat-damp, pallid around the edges. Not acting — genuinely exhausted. I got closer, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his temple without saying anything. Damon, meanwhile, immediately went to Livana, sitting beside her as though tethered to her pulse. He took her hand and kissed it — frantic, restrained, and desperately tender.

Livana opened her eyes slowly.

"Liva," Damon breathed out.

"I’m fine," she murmured, exhaling weakly. "I just need more sleep."

"Where does it hurt? Did you walk too much while I was gone? Did you fall?"

"Our baby is safe," she assured softly.

"What should I do? Tell me. Did something happen—"

"No," she cut in, patient but thinly so.

His barrage continued, questions tripping over each other — and that was when I stepped in.

"Stop asking for a moment, Damon," I said flatly.

Livana smiled faintly, relief flickering through her face. "Thank you, D."

Aunt Amiliee tugged Damon back by the arm. "Change your clothes first, and wipe your sweat." Then she pointed at Caine. "You too."

Caine looked like a scolded dog, lips pushed into a pout.

Not long after, the maids arrived with Livana’s maternity pillows and a portable stroller. Once she settled more comfortably and drifted back to sleep, we dimmed the room. I remained beside her a while longer, fingers laced over my abdomen as a slow nausea crept up — stress wearing its shape through my body. The company, the threats, now Livana’s health... everything was converging.

"Babe," Caine whispered softly behind me. "Let’s go for now. Let Damon stay here."

I stood, finally letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Outside, Aunt Amiliee was already instructing security.

"Let’s go home," Caine said, taking my hand.

"But Livana—"

"Damon will handle her. You need rest too."

"Tell me everything that happened on your way out."

"Sure," he said, giving me a reassuring look before we bid our goodbyes.

Instead of going to the mansion, he drove us to his nearby condo. We stopped to buy essentials and when we entered, I noticed immediately: minimalistic, expensive, immaculate — a place engineered for control and privacy. And there was a loft.

"So this is where you stay?"

"Yup — from time to time," he grinned.

I slipped into the house slippers and walked across the polished floor. "Oh. Wow."

I set my bag on the sofa. "Did you ever bring anyone here?"

"Yes. We always have our little boys’ night here — no girls allowed. So technically... you’re the first girl."

I let out a scoff, feigning indifference, though the implication lingered somewhere beneath my ribs.

In the kitchen, I put on the apron and washed my hands while he unloaded the takeout. Then his arms slid around my waist, firm and warm, pressing his body against mine.

"Let’s start by making love here," he murmured against my cheek. "But first... did Livana regain her vision already?"

I paused. I love him. He is my partner. But Livana’s secret is not mine to trade — not even to him.

Instead, I tilted my head and murmured, "Just fuck me already."

He froze — then melted immediately. As expected.

Some truths protect themselves — especially when silence is the only shield they have.

–Jane–

After hearing from Logan that Livana was rushed to the hospital because of bleeding, I started worrying more than I expected to. I tried not to show it, but it gnawed at me the entire time. It was only after several hours, when Logan finally said she was stable, that I felt any relief at all. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if something from the lab incident triggered it — she is stronger than most people think, but even unshakeable minds have limits.

"You’re pretty today," Logan said casually.

I looked down at myself. "So I wasn’t pretty all the time?"

He laughed under his breath.

"Asshole."

"Hey, gorgeous!" David chimed in — as usual, his compliments were excessive, loud, and not entirely filtered.

"Thank you."

I caught Logan giving me a look — somewhere between disbelief and mockery — before he turned away with a quiet eye roll. I still don’t know what that look meant.

My kimono felt too tight and the wooden slippers too rigid. All of us were wearing traditional clothes for the festival, but I also had the undersuit beneath it — the one fitted with a thin layer of bullet-resistant plating. The crowd made me uneasy. I hoped there were no snipers hidden in this sea of faces.

Keiko stayed close to Logan, holding onto his arm sweetly, chattering to him with gentle smiles. She looked like a woman already in love. It made me wonder — why wouldn’t Logan choose her over Laura? Laura is married. Keiko is right here, and willing. Logic says Keiko makes more sense, but he still clings to the unreachable.

"When we get home," David muttered beside me, "teach me how to take care of babies."

I gave him a side glance and let out a small chuckle. "Why? Are you planning to start a family?"

He shrugged. "Why not?" Then he flashed a grin. "I can start a family with you."

He winked. Obviously joking.

"Can you clean up a baby’s poop?"

"Well... I can have the nanny do that," he replied shamelessly.

Logan turned his head just slightly.

"You need to learn how to wipe your own snot first before you start a family, David," he said, flat and unimpressed.

I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh.

"Takoyaki!" Chef Wally suddenly pointed out. Just hearing it made me crave it — something creamy, soft, and melting on my tongue.

"Let’s buy that," I said, slipping my hand off David’s arm as I moved with Wally toward the stand.

We scanned the menu.

"Let’s buy everything on the menu," we said in perfect unison. I pulled out my small purse that matched the kimono and sifted through the yen inside.

While I waited, I felt someone bulky stand behind me — close enough that his breath brushed the side of my neck.

"Give me a set. One piece won’t fill me," Logan muttered.

I placed the order in Nihongo. The vendor bowed politely — their kindness so soft, it almost felt out of place in my world. I handed Logan his set. Wally and I received ours next, and we stepped to a corner to eat. David was already devouring his portion.

I sliced my takoyaki down the middle to let the steam out and blew lightly before taking the first bite.

"Keiko, don’t you like takoyaki?" David asked. Keiko only smiled sweetly.

"Or do you want something else?"

"Hmm." She tugged Logan by the sleeve and he followed her, at least outwardly. But moments later, he was back — standing behind me again. Turning his back to mine like a barrier.

"What?" I asked, then noticed the positioning — his back aligned directly behind me, perfectly shielding my line of fire. "Maxwell?"

He didn’t turn. I just ate silently.

I think I understood. He wanted me to enjoy the festival while making sure I didn’t get killed. Very discreet. Very Logan. But I won’t assume anything.

"Got any water?" he asked Wally, who passed him a bottle.

After we tossed our empty boxes in the trash bin, we continued walking. Keiko kept tugging at Logan, but he always drifted back near me — orbiting without explanation.

"Logan," I muttered once the others got distracted by a stall.

"Yeah?"

We stood eye to eye. His stare — deep and unwavering — carried intensity even in silence.

"Why are you ditching your date?"

He tilted his head slightly. "She’s not my date."

"What? You came here with her and you just—"

"Look." He stepped closer and placed his hands on my shoulders — gentle, but firm — grounding me. "There are people who want you dead."

"...Uh. Why?"

"Because," he exhaled, lowering his voice, "you almost killed the son of the boss — the one who was also a spy working in the lab."

He gave me a small shake.

"Oh." I blinked slowly. "The son of a big boss works in the lab as a spy?"

He nodded.

"Which Empire?"

He leaned down until his lips hovered beside my ear.

"Black Bull Empire."

My brows pinched. The Black Bull Empire — a faction infamous for doing the U.S. government’s dirty work. High-level, ruthless, old power. And compared to Livana’s...

They were not just strong.

They were dangerous.