Family Secret

Chapter 26

The dining room was quiet except for the clinking of silverware and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Nate’s jaw was already tight before he even sat down, the irritation from the phone call still buzzing in his veins. He had been in the middle of a mission—hours of careful work blown apart the second he heard Alexia’s voice telling him to come home. Because the twins got into a fight at school.

Now here he was, sitting at the head of the table, staring across at Ryan and Kyan while Alexia dished out meatloaf like it was any ordinary night.

Ryan sank lower into his chair, stabbing his fork into the mashed potatoes. “Chadwick started it. He pushed Kyan.”

Nate shook his head, his voice clipped and precise. “I don’t care who started it. You should have been the bigger person and walked away.”

Ryan’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. His brows knitted together, his chest hot. The words came out before he could stop them. “The hell I am. I’m not going to let some asshole push my sister just because he can!”

The sharp sound of Nate’s fork dropping onto his plate cut through the air. His voice was low, firm, and heavy with warning. “Language. Young man.”

Alexia snorted into her napkin, failing to disguise her laughter.

Nate’s head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing. “Do you have anything to add?”

She cleared her throat, setting down her fork with mock composure. “Well, to be honest… if the little s**t started the fight, then Ryan has every right to finish it. Especially if it involves his sister.”

“Alexia.” Nate pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep, controlled breath. “Violence is not always the answer.”

Alexia shrugged easily, unfazed. She stabbed a bite of meatloaf and popped it into her mouth before speaking again. “Tell that to a bully. Sometimes violence is the answer. Depends how you portray it.”

Ryan smirked, turning back to his potatoes with a little more confidence. Alexia gave him a subtle wink.

Nate sat back in his chair, knuckles pressing to his temple as he muttered something under his breath. He wasn’t going to win this battle tonight.

Kyan, completely detached from the tension, hummed a little tune as she used her fork to push broccoli around her plate in circles.

Nate finally looked at her. “Kyan, eat your broccoli. It’s good for you.”

Kyan wrinkled her nose, scrunching her entire face. “It smells like a fart.”

Alexia burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. Ryan chuckled too, his fork nearly slipping from his grip.

Nate closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, counting to three. Being a spy was easier. Dodging bullets was easier. Even dismantling bombs was easier. Parenting, however, was proving to be the most impossible mission of all.

The next morning was a flurry of movement inside the townhouse. Nate adjusted his cufflinks in the mirror, the perfect knot of his tie sitting crisp against his collar. His expression, however, was anything but calm. His mind was already calculating the day ahead, one mission report to revise, another assignment looming, and now the added complication of school detention for the twins.

Meanwhile, Alexia moved with practiced ease, ushering Ryan and Kyan into their uniforms. Ryan grumbled about his stiff collar, tugging at it until Alexia swatted his hands away. “Leave it alone or it’ll wrinkle worse,” she said. Kyan spun in circles, humming, her pigtails bouncing wildly until Alexia caught her by the shoulder and shoved a lunch bag into her hand.

By the time they all gathered at the front door, Nate slipped on his jacket, straight-backed and composed, while Alexia crouched to fix Ryan’s crooked shoelace.

Stepping outside, the cool air of morning carried the hum of life down the row of brownstone townhouses. Neighbors already lingered on their stoops, two women chatting animatedly just a few steps away. The branches of the tall trees lining the street swayed gently above them, casting patches of shadow across the worn stone steps.

Alexia took both children’s hands, glancing up at Nate with a bright smile. “Have a good day,” she said lightly, her voice breezy, almost playful.

Nate gave a small nod, his expression unreadable, before turning down the opposite direction of the street. His long stride carried him past the neighbors, his shoulders squared as though he didn’t notice them at all.

But he did notice.

He was only a few paces away when the hushed whispers carried to his ears.

“Did you see that? He didn’t even kiss his wife goodbye,” one woman murmured.

“I bet he’s cheating,” the other replied quickly, her tone dripping with scandal. “He’s probably got a mistress. It’s always the serious ones.”

“Mm-hmm. Such a shame, too. She’s so beautiful, so full of life. And I bet he makes her take care of those children all on her own while he sneaks off to some gentleman’s club.”

The words sliced sharper than they should have, but Nate’s face never changed. He kept walking, jaw tightening until his teeth nearly ground together. His polished shoes clicked against the pavement, each step steadier than the storm building inside him.

He told himself it didn’t matter. He’d been trained to ignore whispers, to drown out noise, to blend into shadows. But for the first time in a long time, the rumors weren’t just about him—they were about Alexia too.

And that… he didn’t like.

Nate sat stiffly in the passenger seat of the unassuming black sedan, his sharp eyes fixed on the bustle of the street beyond the windshield. The hum of the city blurred into the background as he watched their target—a thin, wiry man with a leather satchel—thread his way through the crowd. The man was believed to be a courier, one of the Resistance’s many shadows, and tailing him might finally lead them to another safe house.

Beside Nate, Kevin slouched comfortably in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around a steaming paper cup of coffee. His face was open and unassuming, his sandy-blond hair thinning at the temples, his cheeks round and flushed like he’d never lost a fight with gravity. His nose tilted slightly to one side, as though it had been broken and never properly reset, and his sharp blue eyes carried a constant gleam of mischief. Even his voice had a casual lilt, never rushed, never harsh—everything about him felt ordinary, which made him the perfect spy.

He took a long sip and broke the silence. “So, heard you got married. Guessing my invite got lost in the mail, yeah?”

Nate didn’t turn his head. His gaze tracked the courier’s every step, but a sigh slipped out. “It’s a cover, Kevin. It’s not real.”

Kevin smirked, his lips curling at the edge as he leaned back in his seat. “Still, would’ve been nice to at least pretend to be your best man. Lord only knows that would’ve been my only chance. We’ve been partners what… ten, eleven years, Steele? Figured I’d at least be in the loop before you went off and tied the knot.”

Nate’s mouth twitched, almost forming a smile. A quiet chuckle escaped. “It just kind of… happened.”

Kevin turned his head, his brows lifting with interest. “She cute?”

For the first time that morning, Nate shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His jaw flexed as if weighing every possible answer. Finally, he muttered, “She… well. She’s pretty, I guess. Gets a lot of attention when we go out. She can’t cook to save her life, but she keeps the house clean—for the most part. Helps with the children… for the most part. But she’s an… acceptable wife.”

Kevin blinked at him, then slowly grinned, the kind of grin that spread until his whole face seemed to light up. “Oh. My. God.”

Nate finally tore his eyes from the window to glare at him.

Kevin leaned forward, shaking his head with delight. “The great Agent Steele—Order’s deadliest shadow, the man with ice in his veins—is actually smitten. You are, mate. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Nate’s jaw tightened, the corner of his mouth twitching in irritation. “I am not.”

Kevin chuckled, slapping the steering wheel with the flat of his palm. “Oh, you are. Absolutely smitten. I’ve got to meet this woman. Maybe we can do a double date sometime, you know? Cathy would love it.” He paused, his smirk dropping. “Although… getting the misses together might be dangerous. They’ll form an alliance against us, you know.”

Nate raised a brow at that, half exasperated, half thoughtful. The idea lodged itself in his mind. A date night. Yes. Alexia and I, out every Friday night—just the two of us in public. Neighbors would see us together, would stop whispering rumors, would believe the marriage was genuine. Perfect cover.

Kevin shot him a sidelong glance, that grin still plastered across his face. “You’re planning something, Steele. I know that look. Don’t tell me I’ve just given you an idea.”

Nate didn’t answer. His eyes slid back to the courier, his expression unreadable. But deep down, the thought of a Friday night with Alexia—just the two of them—stirred something he refused to name.