CHAPTER 218: MOTHER’S CARE AND TOUCH

–Damon–

Cold. Her approach was like an endless winter storm.

My Ice Queen.

My wife.

When Laura cried, I knew this wasn’t the party she expected. Grandma Olivia hugged her tightly, apologizing for not holding back. Everyone in this family wanted that woman dead.

"It was too much," I told my wife. "But you were sexy and dominant." I grinned, wrapping my arms around her like a giant koala clinging to a tiny tree trunk.

"Hmm." She hummed the way she always does—elegant, calm, calculative.

I noticed the chubby maid carefully placing an unopened bottle of water on the table, gently twisting the cap before handing it to Laura, who took it with trembling hands.

"I was so afraid earlier," Laura whispered. "I thought the whole party would be ruined. But... at least the kids had fun."

"Not their mother," my wife sighed. "This is my fault."

"Well, it already happened." I kissed the top of her head. "Let me check on the kids." I started walking away, glancing again at the chubby maid watching Laura. She looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen her before.

When I entered the playroom, the twins were already asleep on the playmat with Logan. Our little princess was lying on his chest while the little prince snuggled against his side. Jane, on the other hand, had curled up on the bed with my little Sky. I felt relieved at the sight of all of them peacefully sleeping.

It was the first time I’d ever seen Jane asleep—she never sleeps. I gently closed the door just as Alyssa approached.

"Kuya," she called softly. Kuya—big brother.

"Yes?" I asked.

"What will happen to that woman?" she whispered. "Mom didn’t even flinch when that maid stabbed her other thigh while she was casually doing first aid." She rubbed her shoulders nervously.

"Well, you needed to see that," I said as I patted her head. "That woman committed a grave crime. Worthy of her life."

She frowned at me.

I chuckled.

"I’m not good with words, little sis. But you really shouldn’t see things like that."

She pouted and turned her head away.

"What do you want?" I asked, pulling out my phone, ready for whatever demand she had.

"Can you pick me up from school next Friday?" she asked casually. "And take me shopping?" Her eyes sparkled with hope.

"Hmm." She gave me puppy eyes. Deadly. "Okay. Remind me." I patted her head. Livana told me to spend time with my little sister anyway.

"I’ll call you and text you nonstop!" she beamed.

"Yeah, whatever. Are you bringing someone with you?" I asked.

"Nope." She shook her head, lips pressed tight.

"Your boyfriend?" I pressed.

"I don’t have a boyfriend." She rolled her eyes. "Livana said I need to prepare for training." She sighed deeply.

"Hmm." I put an arm around her and guided her toward the stairs. "Training?"

"Yup. Mixed martial arts. Since, you know, I got kicked out of the soccer and volleyball team."

"I didn’t know that. For what reason?"

"You didn’t know?" she snapped.

"Hey, I was busy."

She groaned loudly.

"Never mind. Mom already handled it."

"I see. I think your sister-in-law did the same."

"Yup. I think so."

"Okay, so who’s this master you’ll be training with?" I asked.

"I don’t really know." She shrugged.

"I think your sister made the right decision," I said. "Mixed martial arts is perfect. It’ll make sure you never have a boyfriend."

She frowned and shoved me.

I laughed.

Right.

Our princess isn’t getting a boyfriend yet.

Not until I personally interrogate every single one of them.

–Laura–

I accepted their apologies for messing up my twins’ first birthday. It wasn’t even during the party — it was after. I don’t know exactly what happened to Casey, but Livana was there, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that she handles things. Efficiently. Brutally. Quietly. I’d already calmed down by the time I entered my room, finally breathing normally again.

A gentle knock startled me. My hand automatically went to my chest. I needed peace, not another crisis. And I knew it wasn’t Damien — his knock is always loud and impatient.

I opened the door to find a maid — one of the staff from the twins’ party. She was chubby, smiling so wide her double chin looked almost unreal. Or maybe that wasn’t a double chin at all... maybe just a very enthusiastic fat cell.

"Here’s a basin of ice," she said.

"What?"

"For your face."

And without waiting for permission, she walked past me, straight into my room, headed to my bathroom like she knew the layout by heart. I heard the faucet turn on as I hurried after her, baffled.

She didn’t even ask permission. She just entered.

"What’s your name?" I asked.

She didn’t answer. She simply filled the basin with ice and water, her movements practiced and steady.

"I’m sorry, dear, for what happened at the party," she murmured softly, voice warm... familiar. "Your grandmother was furious. Angry that her daughter died before she did."

She looked up, and the familiarity struck me harder. Even her scent... that soft floral perfume I kept hidden in my closet. My mother’s perfume.

"I—I know..." My voice came out as a tiny squeak. I did understand Grandma. "After so long without seeing that woman since she escaped prison... of course she was furious. But I didn’t expect her to hide that thing inside her cane."

"Your grandmother is not just a lady of the house. She was trained to protect herself," the maid replied gently. "She received assassin training — only the basics."

I nodded slowly as she prepared the basin, setting a fresh towel beside it.

"Alright, dear. I’ll get you something to drink. Perhaps soup?" she asked.

I nodded again, more stunned than anything. "That would be great. Thank you."

She reached out and gently squeezed my hand. Comforting. Familiar. I should have pulled away. I didn’t know her. But something in her touch... felt like home.

She left with silent, feather-light footsteps — which made no sense on such a heavy body. Not unless she was trained.

Livana’s knight? Maybe. But no... something deeper tugged at my memory.

I looked down at the basin and towel.

Deja vu.

Like when my mom prepared the same thing years ago, after I cried my eyes out over my cheating first boyfriend. Damien was there too, and Livana was sighing dramatically, calling me stupid — lovingly, of course.

I chuckled softly at the memory and dipped my hand into the cold water. If that woman intended to kill me, she wouldn’t start by ruining my skincare. I kept my hand there until it went numb. Nothing happened.

I tied my hair, slipped on my headband, and dipped my face into the ice water. Relief washed over me.

The door opened.

"Babe!" Damien’s voice chimed.

I pulled my face out, dipped it again for good measure, then gently patted it dry.

"Feels like deja vu," he muttered.

"I know, right?" I chuckled. "A maid delivered this earlier."

Damien wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my nape.

"Babe, the twins are with Logan and Jane. They’re all asleep."

"Hmm," I hummed, still half-focused on the swelling around my eyes.

"Must be tired from the party. Did they change clothes?"

"Yes," he whispered against my shoulder.

I grinned.

"Yeah... we can make love."

His smirk said everything.

We kissed, and I melted instantly. Before I knew it, my clothes were gone, scattered everywhere, and he was carrying me to the bed.

Minutes later... or hours? I lost track. He pleased me in every way he knew how, his mouth between my legs like always before we start. Then the condoms — careful, responsible, but we still made love like wild animals in mating season.

Once. Twice.

No... thrice.

I drifted into a light sleep afterward, but I felt him caring for me. Wiping me with a warm towel, cleaning me gently, even dressing me. Someone knocked. Damien spoke briefly through the door.

"Love, here’s your soup," he said softly. "Eat in bed. I’ll take the twins afterward."

I sat up and moved to the small table where he set the soup. I finished every last drop. My body felt like jelly. My husband is too efficient — he cleaned everything, even the discarded condoms. Bless him.

Another knock.

"Come in," I murmured.

The maid entered again.

"Are you going to breastfeed?" she asked softly, carrying another tray.

"Hmm," I hummed as I stayed on the bed.

She set the tray down beside me.

"I can massage your back. It will help with the fatigue," she offered, holding an essential oil bottle... one I recognized too well.

"I would love that," I admitted.

She helped me lie on my stomach, pulling the dress up and covering me with the duvet from the waist down. Her massage... it was divine. Perfect pressure. Perfect motion. Like muscle memory.

Too familiar.

And her scent — that same soft perfume.

It settled on me like a ghost of a memory.

"You’re just like my mom," I mumbled, slipping toward sleep. "Your touch... your smell..." My voice softened to a whisper. "Mom..."

Her hands paused only for a second.

"Sleep well, my dear," she whispered.

My mother’s voice.