Family Secret

Chapter 7

Alexia didn’t have much to pack. Her life never allowed her to put down roots, so everything she owned fit into four boxes. Two were filled with clothes—practical, simple, easy to move in. The other two contained her real essentials: her weapons, blades tucked neatly into hidden compartments, poisons sealed in tiny vials, and her carefully maintained collection of disguises. Assassin tools. The things that actually kept her alive.

She sealed the last box with a strip of tape, exhaling as she straightened. For a moment, her apartment looked barren, almost lifeless, as if she had never really lived there. Which, in a sense, she hadn’t.

A knock broke the silence. Sharp, precise. Not like a neighbor or a salesman, but deliberate. Alexia already knew who it was before she even touched the handle.

When she opened the door, her suspicion was confirmed—Nate stood there. He was exactly as he had been the night before: refined, collected, and perfectly dressed. His tweed vest hugged his frame neatly over a crisp button-up shirt, the sleeves pressed with sharp lines. His trousers were dark, his shoes polished to a shine. The faint shadow of stubble along his jaw added a rugged edge to his otherwise clean, disciplined appearance. And, as always, he carried himself with an almost military stillness—emotionless, unreadable.

The complete opposite of her.

Alexia’s lips curved into a mischievous smile as she leaned against the doorframe. “Good morning, husband,” she said lightly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “So, what’s the rulebook here? Do I have to kiss you or something? I’m new to this whole married life thing.”

For the first time since she’d met him, Nate’s carefully composed mask cracked ever so slightly. His eyes flicked toward her mouth before he quickly cleared his throat. “No,” he said firmly, his tone clipped. “No kissing unless absolutely necessary. Very minimal affection, and only when in public.”

Alexia exaggerated a pout, folding her arms across her chest. “Pity. Been told I’m an amazing kisser.”

Nate’s jaw tightened, though whether it was annoyance or restraint, she couldn’t tell. He shifted slightly and held up a plain manila envelope. “Also,” he said, his voice returning to its usual calm precision, “I managed to have a… friend draft a marriage certificate. Backdated a year and a half. According to the records, that’s when we were married.”

One of Alexia’s brows arched. “Backdated? You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“It’s for the school,” Nate explained evenly, tucking the envelope back under his arm. “The academy will want proof of stability. Married parents are favored. A widowed father with a stable wife by his side raises fewer questions.”

Alexia’s playful smirk faded slightly as she tilted her head. “And the… children?”

For the first time, Nate hesitated. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his shoulders rose with a deep breath before he answered. “Their mother died giving birth to them.”

Alexia blinked. Her sarcasm faltered, and her face softened in rare sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly.

His gaze flicked to hers, searching, but whatever flicker of emotion surfaced in his eyes was gone in an instant, replaced once more by cold composure.

Alexia pushed off the doorframe, brushing the moment aside with a shrug. “Alright then. Just tell me what I need to know and what I have to do, and I’ll play the part. I can fake anything.”

For the first time, Nate’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles—controlled, faint, but there. “Good. That’s all I need from you.”

---

Ryan sat at the table, hunched over his math homework, the sound of Kyan’s humming needling his ears. She was coloring with reckless abandon, crayons scattered across the wooden surface like a rainbow exploded. Her little body swayed as she drew, a wide smile fixed on her face.

Ryan narrowed his eyes. She only ever looks that happy when she knows something. He tapped his pencil against the table.

“Kyan… why are you so happy?”

His sister giggled, the sound light and unbothered, like wind chimes. “Because Daddy’s bringing home our new mommy,” she whispered dramatically, as if it were the most exciting secret in the world. “She’s very pretty.”

Ryan snorted. “Pretty? I bet she’s boring and ugly. Probably one of those people who wears frilly aprons and makes us eat vegetables every day. I’m not listening to her.”

Before Kyan could respond, the front door opened. Heavy footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor. Ryan turned his head and froze when Nate stepped in, holding two boxes in his arms. His voice was even, calm, commanding as always.

“Ryan. Kyan. Meet Alexia. Your new mother.”

Ryan’s heart slammed against his ribcage as she stepped through the doorway.

For a moment, the world fell silent.

Ryan’s thoughts—usually sharp, disciplined, in control—collapsed into a single stunned blur as his eyes landed on her face.

Her hair was the first thing he noticed. Golden waves, sunlit yet soft, cascaded over her shoulders like silk. The highlights shimmered when the light caught them, strands shifting as if they had a life of their own. Her tan skin was flawless, warm and luminous, the kind of glow that no paint or crayon could capture, though Kyan would probably try.

Her lips—full, soft, naturally tinted rose—parted ever so slightly as she smiled. His stomach flipped at the sight of it. She had the kind of mouth that looked like it had a thousand secrets, maybe dangerous ones, maybe sweet ones, but all beautiful.

Her eyes—God, her eyes—were what made him forget to breathe. Dark, deep, shaded with long lashes that curled like they belonged on a magazine cover. They weren’t just pretty, they were sharp, intelligent, almost mischievous. The kind of eyes that looked right through you and didn’t blink when they saw your truth.

Ryan’s throat tightened. His chest hurt. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. She wasn’t boring. She wasn’t ugly. She wasn’t even close.

She was… an angel.

“Hello,” Alexia said gently, her voice low, smooth, edged with something playful.

Ryan opened his mouth, but no words came out. His tongue betrayed him, frozen.

Kyan shot out of her chair like a spring, squealing, “Mommy!!” She threw her arms around Alexia’s waist, nearly knocking the woman off balance.

Alexia’s eyes widened, her body stiff for a moment.

Nate sighed, his tone flat. “Yes… she’s a hugger.”

“I see,” Alexia said, her voice amused as she carefully patted Kyan’s back.

Kyan leaned back, green eyes sparkling like emeralds. “You’re very pretty, Mommy.”

Alexia chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Thank you. You’re cute too.”

Then her gaze lifted—landing squarely on Ryan.

He nearly fell backward in his chair. Her smile was aimed at him now, and he swore the room got smaller.

“And you must be Ryan,” she said.

He still couldn’t speak. His jaw hung slightly open, his face hot, and every ounce of cool composure he’d ever had as the “responsible one” dissolved.

Nate’s eyebrow twitched as he looked between them. Then, without missing a beat, he said, “Well, I’ll give you the tour. This is the living room, obviously, kitchen and dining room over there. Upstairs are the bedrooms. Here—I’ll show you to your room.”

Alexia followed, her hips swaying in that unconscious way women sometimes walked, perfectly balanced. Ryan’s eyes tracked every movement before he realized what he was doing. His ears burned. She wasn’t just beautiful in the face—her figure was perfect, curves in all the right places, the kind of body that could break hearts and bend rules.

Kyan snickered behind her hand. “Ryan has a crush on Mommy.”

Ryan whipped around, glaring at her, his face red. “Shut up! No, I don’t.”

Kyan only grinned wider, returning to her coloring as though she’d won a game he didn’t know they were playing.

Upstairs, Nate showed Alexia into a simple, clean bedroom next to his own. “This will be yours. We have separate rooms,” he said flatly, placing the boxes down. “But when guests are over, you’ll stay in mine. Appearances.”

Alexia raised one brow, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. “Of course.”

Her gaze swept over the room—minimal, functional, lacking in warmth. It didn’t seem to bother her.

Nate gave a small nod. “I’ll let you get settled. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

“Noted,” Alexia replied smoothly.

He closed the door behind him, leaving her in silence.

And just down in the dining room, Ryan sat on his chair, still trying to catch his breath, his mind looping one word over and over.

Angel.