Family Secret

Chapter 27

The house had finally gone quiet, the kind of quiet that only came after the twins had been tucked in and the whirlwind of bedtime had settled. Alexia stood in the kitchen, humming softly under her breath as she wiped down the counters. The faint scent of dish soap lingered in the air, mingling with her scent fresh apples and vanilla.

Nate lingered in the doorway, his broad shoulders leaning against the frame. He hadn’t meant to stand there so long, but something about the scene rooted him in place. Alexia, hair loosely tied back, a few strands falling against her cheek, moving gracefully as she worked—she looked far too natural, far too at home in this life they were only supposed to be pretending.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Alexia…”

She glanced up at him, one brow arching in that way she always did when she sensed something on his mind. “Yes?”

He had rehearsed the words in his head—just a simple explanation, a practical solution. But as soon as her eyes locked on his, his brain seemed to short-circuit. He felt a strange flutter in his chest, an unfamiliar weight in his stomach. Nerves. Nate didn’t get nervous. Not during interrogations, not when infiltrating enemy lines, not even when standing inches from death. Yet here he was, stumbling like a fool in front of her.

“I… was thinking… perhaps we could, um…” He stopped, dragged a hand through his hair, and tried again. “Every Friday we… might… you know… go out.”

Alexia blinked at him, lips twitching as if fighting back a smile. “Go out?”

“Yes. Together. As in… the two of us. A… date night.” His words tangled awkwardly, and he grimaced, realizing just how ridiculous he sounded.

For a moment, Alexia just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then slowly, a sly smile spread across her face, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Are you trying to ask me out on a date, Nate?”

His throat went dry. Heat prickled at the back of his neck, and he gave a helpless little shrug. “Kinda. I mean, it’s for appearances. The neighbors have been talking, saying things. We need to… keep up the appearance of a happily married couple.”

Alexia smirked, clearly savoring every second of his discomfort. She set down the dish towel and leaned casually against the counter, folding her arms. “Sure,” she said lightly, “sounds like fun.”

Something in Nate’s chest tightened. His heart kicked up a fraction faster, and he had to force himself not to shift uneasily under her gaze. He nodded once, curtly, trying to regain composure. “Good. Then it’s settled. Every Friday night we’ll go out. Just the two of us.”

Alexia’s smile widened, softer now, though her eyes still sparkled with mischief. “Looking forward to it… husband.”

Nate turned on his heel before she could see the faint flush rising across his cheekbones. He had convinced himself it was only strategy, only cover. But deep down, he couldn’t quite explain why his pulse was still racing.

---

The following afternoon, Ryan and Kyan sat slouched in two hard wooden chairs in a dimly lit classroom that smelled faintly of chalk dust and disinfectant. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, every second dragging on like an eternity.

Ryan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the room. A handful of other students were scattered around, all equally miserable, including Chadwick and his little entourage, Henry and Samuel. They sat near the front, whispering and snickering every so often. Miguel sat apart from them, closer to the window, chin propped in his hand as he stared outside, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else.

Kyan swung her legs back and forth under her chair, trying to hum quietly to herself, but Ryan nudged her. “Shhh,” he whispered.

She pouted. “I’m bored.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “That’s the point of detention. They want us bored.”

The second headmistress, Mrs. Drummond, the same woman who had scolded Ryan at orientation, sat at the teacher’s desk with a book in her lap. Every so often, she peered over the rim of her glasses like a hawk surveying prey. Her mere presence was enough to keep most of the kids quiet.

Chadwick, however, couldn’t resist. He twisted in his chair and gave Ryan a smug grin. “Hope you’re comfortable, mute boy. Get used to sitting in places like this—it’s all you’ll ever be good for.”

Kyan’s little fists clenched, but Ryan held her wrist gently under the desk, shooting her a look that told her not to take the bait. He leaned forward just enough so his voice carried back to Chadwick. “Funny. For someone so spoiled, you sure do spend a lot of time in detention too. Guess money can’t buy brains.”

A few of the kids stifled laughter. Chadwick’s face turned red, and he whirled back around in his chair, muttering something to Henry and Samuel.

Ryan allowed himself a tiny smirk. One point to him.

Kyan leaned close, whispering, “I don’t like this, Ry. It feels… off.”

Ryan tilted his head toward her. “What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, her gaze darting toward Miguel. “He’s different. He’s not like the others. But I think… he’s important.”

Ryan followed her gaze. Miguel hadn’t moved from his spot by the window, still staring outside with that restless look in his eyes. He was quiet, distant—but Ryan’s instincts told him his sister was right. Miguel wasn’t like Chadwick or his lackeys. He had secrets of his own.

Mrs. Drummond’s sharp voice suddenly rang out. “Quiet. No talking. Thirty minutes left.”

Ryan leaned back again, sighing heavily. Kyan shifted in her seat but kept her eyes on Miguel, a little smile playing on her lips, as if she knew something Ryan didn’t.

Ryan didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Nate stood on the curb, hands in his pockets, vest buttoned tight, eyes fixed on the heavy oak doors of the Academy. Alexia stood beside him, arms folded loosely, her long blonde hair catching the faint evening light. The twins had been in detention longer than expected, and while Nate’s jaw worked impatiently, Alexia looked perfectly at ease, as though waiting didn’t bother her at all.

The doors burst open. Ryan and Kyan came running down the steps, both looking relieved to be free. Chadwick strutted past them toward a sleek silver car waiting at the curb. Just before climbing in, he turned his head and stuck his tongue out at Ryan with a smug grin. Ryan only smirked, shaking his head.

Henry and Samuel piled into their parents’ fancy cars without even glancing at the twins. But Miguel lingered at the top of the steps, his bag slung over one shoulder. He stood awkwardly, glancing around the parking lot, his brows knitting together when he realized no car was waiting for him.

Kyan nudged Ryan. “Miguel doesn’t have a ride,” she whispered.

Ryan’s gaze softened. He walked over, hands in his pockets, trying not to look too eager. “Hey. You got a ride home?”

Miguel shifted on his feet, eyes darting to the pavement. “My father’s… running late. And my mother…” He trailed off, forcing a small shrug. “She must be busy.”

Ryan tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. Busy? He slipped into Miguel’s thoughts. The boy’s mind was weary, heavy with embarrassment. Mother must have drunk too much again and passed out… Father’s either still at the office or… doesn’t care.

Ryan clenched his jaw, swallowing down the wave of pity. Miguel’s life wasn’t as shiny as it looked on the outside.

“Ryan,” Nate’s voice called firmly. “Time to go.”

Ryan turned back. “But Dad—his parents aren’t here yet. Can we wait just a little longer?”

Nate pressed his lips together. Every instinct in him wanted to say no. He hated standing idle, hated wasting time. But before the word could form, Alexia stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on his chest.

“Nate,” she murmured softly, “we can wait a little longer. The restaurant isn’t going anywhere.”

The warmth of her touch sank through the crisp fabric of his button-up and tweed vest, radiating straight into his chest. His shoulders eased without his permission. No one had ever been able to quiet his impatience so easily. Alexia didn’t even seem to realize she had that effect—it was just… natural.

Nate’s jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. “Fine. A few more moments.”

Alexia smiled faintly, letting her hand linger a second longer before withdrawing. Nate looked away quickly, throat dry. He didn’t want to think about how that fleeting warmth had steadied him.

Ryan and Kyan had already pulled Miguel toward the playground across the street. Within minutes, the three of them were laughing, climbing the jungle gym, and racing down the slides as though detention had never happened. Miguel looked lighter, freer, his shy smile widening when Kyan giggled beside him.

“I’m sorry about Chadwick and the others,” Miguel said quietly when they paused for breath.

Ryan shrugged. “It’s fine. We’re used to it.”

Kyan tilted her head, her bright green eyes sparkling. “They can’t hurt us. Not really.”

Miguel blushed, looking at her a little too long. “You… you have really pretty eyes.”

Kyan giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Ryan arched a brow at Miguel but said nothing, choosing instead to let the boy have his moment.

That’s when a long, black limo pulled smoothly to the curb. Nate straightened instinctively, his senses sharpening. His stomach tightened. Cisco Monroe. He braced himself to see the man step out.

But it wasn’t him.

The door opened, and Fiona Monroe emerged.

She was stunning—even in the dim light. Her long, dark hair framed a face of delicate curves and striking beauty, her skin kissed golden by the sun. But behind her dark, almond-shaped eyes lingered shadows—deep ones. Her lips were painted but slightly smudged, her elegant dress wrinkled, and the faint scent of alcohol drifted with her as she walked. A beautiful woman, yes, but one burdened with exhaustion and loneliness.

“Miguel!” she called, her heavy accent rolling off her tongue like velvet. She hurried forward, heels clicking on the pavement, her smile too wide, too bright. “I’m so sorry, mi hijo. Mama is late.”

She pulled him into her arms, kissing his face over and over. Miguel flushed scarlet, struggling. “Mamá, stop! You’re embarrassing me—in front of my new friends!”

Fiona finally let him go, her eyes lifting. They landed on the twins first, curious, then moved past them—straight to Nate.

Her gaze roved over him, lingering on his shoulders, his jaw, the way he carried himself. And for a brief moment, her tired eyes lit with interest. “Thank you,” she said smoothly, her voice warmer now. “You didn’t have to wait with him. Such a gentleman, Mr…?”

Nate cleared his throat, adjusting his vest as he extended a hand. “Atkins. Nate Atkins. And this is my wife, Alexia. Our twins—Ryan and Kyan.”

Fiona barely spared Alexia a glance. Her hand slid into Nate’s, soft and perfumed, her smile taking on a more seductive curve. “Fiona Monroe,” she purred. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Nate nodded politely, oblivious to the way her eyes lingered.

Alexia, however, noticed. And something in her stomach twisted. It was ridiculous—they weren’t even really married. This arrangement was supposed to be for appearances, to keep the Secret Service off her back and to get the twins into the Academy. Nothing more.

So why did she suddenly feel… territorial?

Her smile was sugar-sweet as she stepped closer, sliding her arm around Nate’s and pressing against him. “Come, darling,” she said softly, deliberately. “We’re going to be late for our reservations.”

Nate, completely unaware of the current between the two women, nodded briskly. “Right. Kids, let’s go.”

Ryan and Kyan bounded over, waving goodbye to Miguel. Fiona lifted a brow as she watched them leave, but her eyes flicked back to Nate one last time, her lips curving in a private smile.

Alexia held Nate’s arm tighter as they walked down the street, her head high, her heartbeat uncomfortably fast.