Family Secret

Chapter 24

The air in Thomas Reese’s study was thick with the scent of aged bourbon and cigar smoke. The men settled into leather chairs, laughter rumbling as glasses clinked. Thomas passed Nate a tumbler, amber liquid catching the lamplight.

Nate accepted it with his usual composure, his hand steady—but his mind was anything but.

That kiss.

He replayed it over and over, trying to strip it of meaning, to file it away as another calculated move in a long line of missions. A formality. A necessity. That’s all it had been. That’s all it should have been.

And yet… his lips still tingled with the memory. Soft. Sweet. The faint taste of strawberries and sugar. He hadn’t meant to linger, hadn’t meant for his hand to tighten around her waist. Instinct, he told himself. Reflex. The act of a husband who needed to sell the part.

But Alexia’s hand on his chest—warm, gentle, unhesitating—hadn’t felt like reflex. It had felt real.

“Everything all right, old boy?” Gregory’s voice broke through Nate’s thoughts.

Nate blinked, realizing he’d been staring into the amber depths of his glass too long. He adjusted his posture, his accent cool and precise. “Perfectly fine.”

Gregory smirked knowingly, puffing on his cigar. “If I’d a wife like yours, I’d be distracted too.”

Nate’s jaw flexed. He raised his glass in a polite nod but said nothing, forcing his face into the mask of calm he wore so well. Inside, however, his thoughts were chaos. He could not afford this—whatever this was. Attachment. Distraction. They were liabilities, and he was trained to eliminate liabilities.

Meanwhile, outside in the garden, Alexia sat with Margaret and Miha’s mother, half-listening to their chatter. Her mind was miles away.

That kiss.

She hadn’t expected it—hadn’t even thought Nate would bother. But when his lips touched hers, something inside her had jolted awake. He was supposed to be untouchable, distant, the picture of control. And yet, for that brief moment, she’d felt warmth, tenderness… even desire.

Her fingers drifted absently to her lips, still remembering the softness, the unexpected sweetness.

“Alexia?” Margaret’s voice pulled her back.

Alexia blinked, realizing she’d zoned out. She forced a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, long day.”

Margaret chuckled warmly. “Young love always looks like that.”

Alexia’s smile faltered slightly. Young love. That wasn’t what this was. This wasn’t even real. She reminded herself of that, clinging to the fact like a lifeline. Their marriage was fake. A cover.

So why did her heart race whenever she thought about it? Why did that kiss feel like the first real one she’d had in years?

Alexia pressed her lips together, her pulse quickening all over again.

The heavy scent of cigar smoke clung to the air, mingling with the sharp tang of bourbon. The men leaned back in their chairs, voices rising and falling as the conversation turned from idle chatter to weightier matters.

“The war between The Order and the Resistance,” Thomas said gravely, puffing out a thick curl of smoke, “is spiraling faster than I’ve ever seen. Both sides are stretched thin. Money’s running dry.”

Elijah’s father gave a low grunt of agreement. “Merchants are bleeding. Imports are slowing, exports worse. Every deal costs twice as much and delivers half of what it used to.”

The others nodded, murmuring complaints, a grim chorus of men who felt the strain tightening around their necks.

Nate listened quietly, his face a calm mask, though inside he noted every word. Their concerns matched the reports he’d seen—evidence that the war wasn’t just a political battlefield anymore, but a financial one that threatened to cripple everyone caught in the crossfire.

Then Gregory Summer leaned forward, a glint in his eye as the mood shifted. He let out a bark of laughter and wagged his cigar. “Speaking of bleeding coin, have any of you heard the latest about Cisco Monroe?”

The room quieted, attention turning to him. Nate’s gaze flicked toward Gregory, sharp but outwardly casual.

“Rumor has it,” Gregory said, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone, “he’s either got a mistress already, or he’s in the market for one.”

The men chuckled, some nodding knowingly. Adultery among their class was hardly shocking—expected, even.

Nate tilted his glass, swirling the bourbon slowly before speaking. His accent was smooth, his tone deliberately indifferent. “And why do you say that?”

Gregory smirked, clearly savoring the gossip. “Because he was spotted at a gentleman’s club just days ago. Not just passing through, mind you. He’s been spending time with one particular lady. Exotic, from what I hear. He’s got a taste for the rare.”

He exhaled a plume of smoke, then leaned slightly closer to Nate, lowering his voice so only a few could hear. “Word of advice, my friend. Keep an eye on your pretty little wife. Not that she seems the type to stray…” Gregory’s grin widened, wolfish. “…but when Cisco Monroe wants something—or someone—he gets it.”

Nate’s jaw tightened, the muscle in his cheek ticking once. He raised the glass to his lips to mask the flicker of irritation that rippled through him. Alexia was part of the cover, nothing more. Still, the idea of Monroe setting his sights on her stirred something hot and unwelcome in his chest.

He took a measured sip of bourbon, set the glass down carefully, and forced his expression back into cool neutrality. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The conversation moved on, laughter resuming, but Nate’s thoughts lingered, the words echoing like a warning bell.

The evening finally wound down, polite goodbyes exchanged in the soft glow of lanterns. Outside, the night air was cool and still, carrying with it the faint hum of cicadas. The twins were drowsy, their heads bobbing as they trudged toward the car. By the time Nate pulled onto the quiet road, both Kyan and Ryan had slumped into the back seat, fast asleep.

The only sound for a while was the hum of the engine and the occasional sigh from one of the children. Alexia sat beside Nate, her hands folded in her lap, the silence between them thick with unspoken thoughts.

At last, Nate cleared his throat. “About earlier…” His grip tightened slightly on the wheel. “The kiss. I should’ve asked first. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Alexia turned her head sharply, then snorted in disbelief. “You’re supposed to be my husband, Nate. You don’t have to ask if you want something.”

Heat crawled up the back of his neck, surprising him. He hadn’t blushed in years, but her words struck harder than they should have.

Alexia smirked, clearly delighted at his discomfort. She gave a light laugh. “I like making you uncomfortable. It’s cute.”

Nate shot her a sidelong glance, his jaw tight, but she kept going, softer this time. “Listen, I know this is all fake. I knew what I was signing up for. Out in public, we have to play the role more… notice the details. That’s all.”

Her casual tone did little to settle the strange flutter low in his chest. He nodded once, curtly, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

When they pulled into the drive, the quiet lingered. Nate slipped out first and moved to the back, carefully lifting Kyan into his arms. The little girl stirred, her arms tightening around his neck like iron chains. Nate sighed under his breath. “She’s got the grip of a gorilla. Could strangle one too if she tried.”

Alexia smiled as she gathered Ryan. The boy curled into her like he was made for her arms, his soft breath warm against her skin. His small hand rested gently on her collarbone, his head tucked neatly into the crook of her neck.

Together, they carried the twins upstairs, footsteps hushed on the wooden stairs. They laid the children in bed, smoothing blankets, brushing stray hairs from their foreheads. For a moment, they both lingered, watching the twins breathe in unison—so peaceful, so unaware of the tension that hummed between their guardians.

When they finally stepped out into the hallway, they moved at the same time and brushed against each other—shoulder to chest, arm to arm. The contact was brief but electric, sending an unexpected shiver through both of them.

They froze, eyes locking in the dim light. For one fragile heartbeat, neither moved.

Nate was the first to break, clearing his throat as he stepped back. “Goodnight.” His voice was low, rougher than he intended.

Alexia’s lips curved into a soft smile, one so warm and unguarded it stole the breath from his chest. “Goodnight, Nate.”

The door to the twins’ room clicked softly shut behind them, but the weight of that moment lingered long after.