CHAPTER 66: PRANK GONE WRONG

–Laura–

This was supposed to be a prank on Damien. Just a little tease. But now, he’s saying sorry over and over—and what hurts more is the sinking thought that maybe... he really didn’t want this.

I watched him turn his back on me, silent for a few seconds.

"Laura," he finally said, voice low, "remember when I told you I didn’t want kids?"

Oh, I remember. He didn’t want to bring children into this crazy, messed-up world. Not with his wreck of a family.

"I’m a bastard," he murmured. "I don’t want him or her to get bullied like I did. It’s not that I don’t want it. I do... I really do. And I imagined it—with you." He turned to face me.

"So... are you turning your back on me now?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"No." He shook his head, wiping his face. "I’m sorry." He stepped forward, pulled me into his arms, and kissed my cheek. "You misunderstood," he whispered. "I’m just—just telling you how I feel."

I pressed my lips into a tight line and gave his chest a weak punch.

"I was teasing you," I blurted through a sob. "I was pretending I didn’t know your secret planning with my sister." My voice was trembling, snotty, and suddenly I was crying like a baby. "I thought you didn’t want this!" Another punch to his chest.

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at me—for a long time.

"I’m the one who needs comfort," he finally said, which was correct.

I sniffled and wiped my face with the back of my hand. "Okay. You’re too tall. Go sit over there."

He obeyed and plopped down on the sofa by the bed. I climbed onto his lap, settling in, letting him snuggle into my chest. I patted his back as he hugged me tight.

Damn it. This whole thing was supposed to be a prank, but it totally backfired. Now look at this big man-child, clinging to me like a koala. But whatever. I love him. To death. My best friend. My best man. My sex god.

We stayed like that for at least twenty minutes, maybe more. I knew he wasn’t ready—not really. And my sister? She’s absolutely insane for forcing Damien to impregnate me. But she’s just like me. But he agreed to this. He chose this.

"Hey," I said, pulling his hair gently so he’d look at me. His eyes were cloudy, like a storm on the edge of bursting. "Get it together, alright? We both wanted this. After all that non stop screwing, what did you expect?"

"Yeah..." he mumbled.

I shoved his face back into my boobs.

"That’s why your boobs are firm and you’re always hungry," he muttered.

"Mhm." I patted his head. "You know, I was just thinking—Salmon. The kind my sister loves. Sounds delicious right now."

"Let’s get married," he said out of nowhere.

I yanked his hair back again so he could face me properly. "That’s not a proper proposal."

He grinned, the cocky bastard. "How do you want it? Me dancing naked?"

I burst out laughing and smacked his chest. "I’m hungry. Really hungry."

"For food... or me?" he asked, raising a brow.

I gaped at him, tilted my head like I was considering it.

"I was thinking... both."

–Livana–

I’ve been counting the months. Two? Maybe three? They’ve been doing that thing. I might sound harsh, but this is for the bloodline. I don’t care if others think I’m crazy—or controlling. Let them think what they want.

I’m infertile.

I turned slightly when I felt my husband’s hand slide over my thigh. He rubbed it gently, but the gesture only irritated me.

The sound of the airplane was deafening. We were en route to the Philippines. My people had secured us a discreet flight, well beyond Madrigal’s watchful eyes in Italy. The Bishops moved like shadows—quiet, effective, unseen.

"Put your hands away," I said coolly, swatting his hand. He only placed it back again. I sighed, too tired to resist a second time.

I wanted a peaceful flight. I wanted to arrive home with good news. I turned to Damon and caught a blurred glimpse of his hand holding something—couldn’t quite make out what.

"So," I asked calmly, "did you kill him? Or find him?"

"I found him. Hiding out in a villa in Chile... with Tyrona."

"Hmm. What’s taking you so long?"

"Don’t you want to have a little fun?"

I leaned my head back against the seat. Tyrona—enjoying the time of her life with some man? It made me want to crush her even more, even though I knew she was just using Alejandro Madrigal. She’s still obsessed with Damon, that much is clear.

I admit, I’m curious—what else can Tyrona do, aside from spreading her legs for a mafia heir? Oh, right. She brews chemicals—ones that disfigure your face or kill you slowly, silently. Just like she did to me. She didn’t miss. She took my sight. Nearly took my life.

Three years in total blindness. Three years buried alive in my own mind.

Still... I suppose there’s some good karma left in me. Enough to keep me alive.

But Damon—he found someone smarter. Sharper. A surgeon with a scalpel and a scientific mind. Not some venom-laced asshole pretending to play god in a lab.

"Damon," I called.

"Yes, my love."

"I need a favor."

He was quiet for a moment. "Wow. That’s the first time you’ve ever asked for a favor." He reached for my chin and showered my face with kisses. I pushed him away, unamused. "Alright, let’s hear it."

"My sister," I said. "Protect her—and her children. No matter what."

"She doesn’t have kids—"

I laughed. "Let me rephrase—her future children. Between the two of us, she’s the fertile one."

"Okay. Yeah. Sure. Of course..."

"We can adopt one of their children," I added, dead serious.

He fell silent.

"Hey! That’s not how this works," he finally snapped.

I blinked, a little amused. I didn’t expect him to interject—let alone draw the line between right and wrong when it comes to something like that.

I shrugged. I often say whatever’s on my mind. I’m impulsive that way—at least with the people I trust. My sister. My husband.

"Well, if you say so," I murmured as I reached for the book beside my seat. I flipped it open and ran my fingers across the embossed letters—letters meant for us.

"Baaabeee," he whispered playfully.

The plane suddenly jolted. Turbulence. I saw someone get up through the haze of my blurred vision.

Damon gripped my hand.

"It’s just turbulence, right?" I asked, my tone calm. "No one’s going to kill us?"

He didn’t answer. Neither did anyone else.

"Liva!" Sophia hissed from somewhere behind us.

"Let me check," a familiar voice said. Definitely not Kai. The accent was off. Francis? I think Laura mentioned him once—back when she and Damien weren’t together yet. Good-looking, supposedly. Good genes, too.

His name and voice—it nagged at something in the back of my mind. Familiar. But I let it go.

"Can you take me to our room?" I asked Damon. "I’d like to sleep."

"Sure, sure."

He unbuckled my seatbelt and gently led me toward the room. I stretched a bit, climbed onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over me.

"It’s time for your eyedrops, right?" he asked, and I nodded.

I prayed silently. Let me see when I wake up. He applied the drops—one in each eye. I shut them tightly and felt him gently secure the belt over the blanket. Then he lay beside me, kissed my lips, and snuggled close.

His hands began wandering under the covers, but I pushed him away, exhausted. He stopped.

I didn’t realize I had slept for hours. No clue what time it was. But I felt... rested.

I reached up and gently removed something from my eyes. Dried mucus. I tapped Damon, and he sat up immediately. Using a warm, damp towel, he cleaned my eyes carefully.

I took the towel and wiped my face.

He applied another round of eye drops, and I closed my eyes again.

"How do you feel?" he asked softly.

"Hmm. Just fine."

"There seems to be more discharge than before."

"Hmm... Dr. Andersson said the new formula would help purge the remaining debris from my eyes."

"And does it work?"

"Yes. I think so."

"Can you see? Even a little?"

"Hmm... not really," I lied. "Maybe it’s too early."

I kept my eyes closed.

"Let’s sleep a bit more," he murmured as he lay back down.

"Are the lights on?" I asked quietly.

"Yes," he replied. He turned toward me and rested his hand gently over my waist.

I slowly opened my eyes.

And then I froze.

The ceiling. The carved wooden design. Clear. Crisp. Real.

I blinked. Slowly. Afraid to breathe.

I turned my head.

Damon.

His usual, annoyingly perfect face was now right in front of me. Every detail is vivid.

I could see him.

Is this real?

I didn’t move. I just stared. Afraid that if I blinked again... I might lose it all.