Family Secret

Chapter 21

The morning was chaos.

Ryan and Kyan were supposed to be getting ready, but somehow Nate found himself in the middle of a battlefield.

“Ryan, the tag goes in the back mate,” Nate said firmly, trying to adjust the boy’s swim trunks as Ryan squirmed away.

“They feel weird!” Ryan complained, twisting like Nate was trying to tie him up instead of help him dress.

Meanwhile, Kyan sat cross-legged on the floor, half in her bathing suit, half still in her pajamas, brushing her doll’s hair. “I don’t like this one. It pinches.”

“It doesn’t pinch, it fits properly,” Nate replied, exasperation bleeding into his crisp British accent. He picked up the bottle of sunscreen and held it like a weapon. “Both of you, stand still.”

“NO!” the twins chorused in unison, scattering in opposite directions like practiced operatives escaping a trap.

Nate groaned, dragging a hand over his face. This was not his arena. He was used to tweed vests, pressed shirts, and intelligence briefings. Not… sunscreen, hats, and tiny sandals. Out of his element, he felt like the most unprepared agent in the world. His usual sharp attire had been traded for swim shorts, a plain white T-shirt, and sneakers—functional, but humiliating.

He finally managed to wrangle the twins enough to get hats jammed on their heads and sunscreen rubbed into their arms—though half of it ended up on his shirt. He exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw tight, eyes narrowing like he was plotting his next move in a high-stakes mission.

And then Alexia walked out.

Nate froze.

She strolled from her room like she had all the time in the world, wearing a red-and-black cover dress that clung in all the right places, the hem swaying around her thighs. A wide black sun hat shaded her face, though it only made her smirk more noticeable. He didn’t know what she had on under the cover-up, but the fact she moved with the confidence of someone keeping a little secret set his teeth on edge.

She glanced at him—at the sunscreen smeared across his chest, the twins bickering in the background—and chuckled. “It’s not even ten and you’re already stressing out.”

Nate’s jaw clenched tighter. “Someone has to keep this lot from falling apart.”

She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Relax, Commander. It’s just a cookout.”

He didn’t reply. He just handed Ryan his shoes and muttered under his breath about “bloody chaos.”

The drive over didn’t help his nerves. The car was filled with chatter—Kyan singing off-key, Ryan reminding them a hundred times that Clint’s family had a pool, and Alexia humming along, far too relaxed.

When they pulled up, Nate’s stomach tightened. The Reese residence was massive—larger than most embassy compounds he’d seen. A pristine lawn, rows of luxury cars parked out front, and a valet waiting to take their vehicle.

He killed the engine, turned to the twins, and gave them a hard look. “Behave yourselves.”

Ryan nodded dutifully, while Kyan just grinned, which didn’t ease Nate’s concern. Then he shifted his gaze to Alexia, his voice low but sharp. “You too. You’re a mother and a wife. Act like one.”

Her lips curved into a sly smirk. “Sure thing, husband.”

The moment they walked inside, the sound of laughter, splashing water, and upbeat music washed over them. They followed the flow of guests until they reached the massive backyard.

Nate took in the scene—an enormous inground pool sparkling under the sun, a full playground on the other side, children running barefoot across the grass while parents lounged at tables under umbrellas.

“RYAN! KYAN!”

A voice cracked through the noise. Clint, in his oversized glasses and crooked smile, ran toward them, waving wildly. His buck teeth flashed as he grinned.

The twins lit up, dashing forward to meet him. “CLINT!” they shouted back, already laughing. Within moments, the three of them were racing toward the playground, where Elijah and Miha waited with wide grins.

Nate stayed where he was, hands in his pockets, scanning the area. It was instinct. Every detail, every face, every possible exit.

He searched for the Monroes. Nothing. No sign of them in the crowd.

The kids wasted no time. The moment Ryan, Kyan, Clint, Miha, and Elijah banded together, it was as if the backyard belonged solely to them. They tore across the grass, giggling and shrieking, Clint’s glasses bouncing on his nose as he tried to keep up. Miha proved surprisingly fast, darting ahead in her sundress, while Elijah, with his booming laugh and energy, kept egging the others on.

“The clan of misfits strikes again!” Ryan shouted proudly before cannonballing into the shallow end of the pool, splashing everyone in a ten-foot radius. Kyan followed with a dive that was… less graceful, but twice as loud.

The parents laughed indulgently, though Nate felt his pulse tick up a notch. Too much chaos, too little control. He kept his eye on the twins even as Alexia drifted easily toward a circle of mothers under a large umbrella.

Margaret Reese, Clint’s mother, immediately lit up when Alexia joined them. She was a broad-shouldered woman with a warm but commanding presence, her voice carrying that gravelly Southern edge that reminded Alexia of old movies. She leaned forward, eyes sparkling.

“Darlin’, look at you,” Margaret said, clasping her wine glass. “What I’d give to be twenty-four again.”

Alexia smiled softly, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her shoulder. “Please, Margaret. You look wonderful for your age.”

Margaret scoffed, batting a hand in the air. “You’re too sweet.”

Miha’s mother chimed in then, her thick accent wrapping around her words as she said warmly, “She right. Margaret, you glow.” She beamed at Alexia. “You too. Very beautiful, like movie star.”

Elijah’s mother leaned forward next, her Afro catching the sunlight, her features striking. Her own accent was thick but graceful, each word rolling like honey. “Mm, I agree. You young, yes. But beauty like yours, it don’t fade so easy.”

Alexia blushed slightly but stayed composed, sipping her drink. She was used to being fawned over, but it was easier to smile and accept it than deflect.

Meanwhile, Nate had been drawn into the men’s circle—Thomas Reese, Clint’s father; Miha’s father; and Elijah’s father. He kept his posture straight, hands tucked neatly in his pockets, joining in their discussions about work, neighborhood politics, and—inevitably—the children. Yet every so often, he caught the way the men’s eyes drifted toward Alexia.

Nate’s jaw ticked.

Among the mothers, not everyone was impressed.

One woman—tall, polished, and dripping with the kind of money that screamed pampered privilege—sipped her wine slowly, her eyes narrowing on Alexia. She was used to being the “beautiful wife,” the one men stared at while women whispered. Yet here was Alexia, fresh-faced and glowing, commanding the attention without even trying. Even her own husband’s eyes lingered too long, and she noticed.

She leaned forward, voice dripping with faux sweetness. “So, Alexia, what is it you do? Besides… keeping busy with the little ones, of course.”

The jab was subtle, but the intention wasn’t.

Alexia only tilted her head, a lazy smirk curling her lips. “Oh, you know… just surviving. Raising twins is a full-time job.” She turned smoothly back to Margaret as if the snob hadn’t spoken at all.

The woman’s smile faltered.

Moments later, in a desperate bid for attention, the woman stood abruptly and tugged off her cover dress, revealing her brand-new bikini top, the padding practically announcing her recent “enhancements.” She adjusted herself with exaggerated care, waiting for compliments.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing sharper. She let out a soft scoff. “Subtle.”

The woman’s jaw tightened. She stepped closer, swirling her wine, and then—conveniently—tripped just enough to send the red liquid splashing across Alexia’s cover dress.

“Oh!” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock horror. “I’m so, so sorry.”

But her eyes glittered with triumph.

Alexia froze. Then, slowly, she set down her glass. Her smirk returned, dangerous this time. She tugged the soaked cover dress over her head and let it drop.

The backyard fell silent.

Her black two-piece bikini clung to every curve, the cut both daring and elegant. Her skin glowed, smooth and flawless, her body sculpted but soft in all the right places—thick thighs like honey, toned stomach, and a neckline that left nothing but to be desired.

For a long beat, no one breathed. Even Nate’s brain short-circuited, his carefully trained composure fracturing as his eyes betrayed him, sweeping down and back up before he could stop himself. He swallowed hard, jaw clenched, trying to regain control of his thoughts.

Alexia bent slightly, arching her back just right, to pick up the discarded cover dress, her smile wicked. “That,” she said smoothly, eyes flicking to the snobby woman, “is what all natural looks like.”

Margaret burst into laughter, clapping her hands together. Miha’s mother and Elijah’s mother exchanged amused glances. The snobby woman flushed red, chest heaving with barely concealed rage.

The men? They weren’t subtle. Every one of them glanced at Nate. Some with envy, some with grudging respect, others with a hint of jealousy. Thomas gave him a discreet thumbs-up. Another man gave him a nod, the kind men share when words aren’t necessary.

Nate kept his expression stone cold, though inside, he felt the weight of every eye on him.