Family Secret

Chapter 28

Nate walked briskly through the living room, tugging at his tie with one hand while his other adjusted the lapels of his charcoal gray suit. The polished leather shoes on his feet weren’t much use as he caught the edge of a toy firetruck, his ankle twisting. He barely managed to catch himself against the back of the sofa.

“Bloody hell!” he barked, glaring down at the floor scattered with toys. “Ryan, Kyan—pick up your toys! I nearly broke my bloody neck.” He straightened, brushing down his vest, muttering under his breath. “The babysitter will be here soon, and it’s her job to watch you, feed you, and put you to bed—not pick up after your mess.”

Ryan sighed heavily, dragging his feet as he bent to scoop up a few blocks with all the enthusiasm of a sloth. “I don’t even understand why we need a babysitter. We’re more than capable of watching ourselves.”

As if fate wanted to prove him wrong, a sharp crash followed his words. Everyone’s head turned just in time to see Kyan standing frozen beside the kitchen table, a glass tipped over at her feet, milk spreading rapidly across the floor.

Ryan glanced at her, then at his father. Nate raised a brow, lips twitching toward a smirk.

“If I left you two alone,” Nate said dryly, “there’d be no house to come home to.”

Before Ryan could argue, a soft giggle floated in from the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, Nate,” Alexia’s voice chimed, playful and warm, “no use crying over spilt milk.”

Nate turned sharply, ready with a retort—but the words froze on his tongue.

Alexia stepped into the light, and the air seemed to shift. She wore a sleeveless, wine-colored dress, the delicate lace overlay catching the glow of the chandelier. The fabric hugged her waist before flaring into a flowing skirt that swayed with every step. Her blonde waves framed her face effortlessly, lips tinted in a soft rose that curved into the faintest, knowing smile. She looked breathtakingly elegant, and yet somehow as if she hadn’t even tried.

Nate’s chest tightened. He had faced enemies with guns drawn, scaled walls under gunfire, infiltrated enemy lines without breaking a sweat—but this? This simple sight of her? It unmoored him.

Alexia crossed the kitchen, crouching to grab a cloth from the counter. She knelt gracefully, blotting up the spilled milk while Kyan chewed her lip, guilty.

“Sorry, Mommy,” Kyan whispered.

Alexia softened instantly, setting the cloth aside for a moment to lift her daughter’s chin with a delicate finger. “It was an accident, sweetheart. Accidents happen. That’s how we learn, yes? Next time, use two hands.”

Kyan’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Okay.”

“Good girl,” Alexia murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before standing.

When she turned, her eyes fell on Nate. She scanned him from head to toe, noting the way his tie hung slightly crooked, his collar bent from his earlier stumble. Her lips curved into a teasing smirk as she stepped closer.

Nate’s breath caught as her perfume reached him—a blend of fresh apples and soft vanilla. She stood so close he could feel the warmth radiating from her, her gaze steady, unflinching.

Without asking, Alexia reached up and straightened his tie, her fingers brushing against his chest as she smoothed his collar. Her touch lingered just a moment too long, deliberate yet tender.

“There,” she said softly, her smile blooming, her dark eyes shining. “Perfect.”

Nate couldn’t stop the corner of his lips from lifting. His voice came out lower, rougher than he intended, as he whispered back, “Perfect.”

For a suspended second, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them—her hand on his chest, his gaze locked on hers, the faint hum of something neither of them dared name.

And then Ryan cleared his throat loudly from the couch. “Sooo… does this mean we’re skipping the babysitter?”

Nate and Alexia both pulled back at once, their spell broken.

Nate cleared his throat, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Ryan, you’re getting a babysitter.”

Ryan groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch cushion. “Seriously? I’m not a baby.”

Alexia smirked from her spot on the arm of the chair, arms crossed. “Well, judging by the way you fought at school, I’d say you’re still working on that whole ‘grown-up’ thing.”

Ryan shot her a glare, but before he could retort, the doorbell rang.

Nate pushed to his feet, straightening his shirt like he was preparing for a briefing with his superiors rather than greeting a babysitter. He opened the door to reveal a woman in her fifties, stiff as a board, standing with her handbag tucked tightly against her side. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight it looked like it could hold state secrets, and her expression was so flat it could have been carved into stone.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice clipped and sharp, almost mechanical.

Nate stepped aside, allowing her in. “This is Mrs. Halloway. She’ll be watching you tonight.”

Ryan slouched deeper into the couch, already unimpressed.

Nate, ever the professional, gave the run down in that calm but firm voice that usually kept soldiers in line. “No sweets after seven. In bed by eight. We’ll be home around nine.”

Mrs. Halloway stood ramrod straight, nodding as if she were taking military orders herself. “They will be on schedule. Bedtime at eight. No exceptions. I’ll see to it.” Her tone was so precise it was eerie, almost robotic.

From the side of the couch, Alexia glanced at the twins, one brow raised. Ryan snorted, and Kyan covered her mouth with both hands to keep her laughter quiet. Then Alexia—because she couldn’t resist—pulled her face into a rigid mockery of Mrs. Halloway’s posture, puffing out her cheeks and making her eyes wide like some stiff-limbed doll.

Ryan clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking. Kyan’s muffled giggles slipped out as little squeaks.

Nate caught it immediately. His sharp blue eyes locked on Alexia with a look that said, Don’t even think about it.

Alexia froze mid-expression, her lips twitching as she tried—and failed—to hide the smirk tugging at them. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip and mouthed silently to the twins: Oops. I’m in trouble.

That did it. Ryan’s cheeks puffed as he tried to contain his laughter, and Kyan squealed through her hands, collapsing sideways against her brother in giggles.

Nate closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing in a long, steadying breath. “This,” he muttered under his breath, “is going to be a long night.”

Mrs. Halloway didn’t so much as blink, her gaze fixed on the twins like a hawk waiting to strike.

Alexia raised her brows, still fighting back her laughter, then leaned toward Nate and whispered, “Relax. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Nate’s jaw tightened. “You really don’t want me to answer that.”

---

The restaurant was alive with a warm hum of conversation, the soft clink of cutlery, and the faint hiss of steam pipes hidden in the walls. Brass chandeliers glowed overhead, casting golden light across velvet drapes and gears etched into the ceiling beams. Outside, the balcony overlooked the city square, lanterns glowing like fireflies against the night sky.

A waiter in a crisp vest guided them to their table near the balcony. The evening breeze rolled in, warm and perfect, brushing against Alexia’s blonde hair as it caught the glow of the lamplight.

They sat across from each other, and within moments, the waiter returned with a bottle of wine. He poured with precise care, took their orders, and left them in a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable—though Nate felt the weight of it pressing on his chest.

Nate took a sip of his wine, rehearsing the script he had carefully planned out in his head. He had lines ready, subjects to bring up, even ways to steer the conversation if it stalled. It was strategy, no different than mission prep. But when he looked up at Alexia—really looked—all of it slipped from his mind.

The wine-red dress hugged her frame, the fabric shimmering faintly under the chandelier glow. It complimented her flawless olive-toned skin, and the playful curl of her lips as she glanced out toward the balcony made his throat tighten. Nate, who never stumbled, never faltered, found himself stealing glances like a boy too shy to look his crush in the eye.

Alexia’s smirk curved wider. “Got something on your mind?”

Nate blinked, realizing he’d been caught staring blankly. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Sorry, um… so…” His voice cracked faintly before he steadied it. “What did you do before… this?”

Alexia tilted her head, enjoying his discomfort. “Well, I was a maid. But I’m hoping to get a promotion. A receptionist.”

Nate nodded, gripping the stem of his glass a little too tightly. He could feel the heat rising in his chest. For the first time in years, nerves were getting the better of him.

Alexia leaned in slightly, her eyes glinting with amusement as she whispered, almost a whimper, “I know.”

The word froze him. Nate’s stomach dropped. His pulse jumped into overdrive.

She knows!? What does she know?! Does she know I’m a spy for The Order? Did I slip up? Was I compromised?

Alexia smirked, watching the panic ripple across his face like she’d pulled the rug out from under him. “Relax, Nate. Your secret’s safe with me. No one will know you adopted twin orphans. But my only question is…” Her expression softened, though her voice still carried curiosity. “Why was it so important for them to get into Star Academy?”

Relief washed through Nate, though his heart still hammered. Not the spy secret. Just the children. He steadied his voice, forcing calm into his answer. “Well, I’ve… always wanted children. But I never really found the right… woman.” He gave a faint shrug, as though it didn’t matter, though the words felt heavy. “And I’m thirty-two… time’s running short. I just want them to have the best education.”

Alexia nodded, seeming satisfied. She leaned back in her chair, sipping her wine, and Nate allowed himself a breath. His cover was intact.

But curiosity flickered. He asked quietly, “How did you know the twins were from the orphanage?”

Alexia froze for a heartbeat. She thought about spinning a lie, brushing it off. But for some reason, honesty slipped past her lips before she could stop herself. Her voice was soft. “Because I was an orphan. Me and my little brother.”

Nate pressed his lips together, the weight of her words settling between them. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Alexia gave a soft smile, brushing it off. “It’s alright. The past is what it is.”

The waiter returned, placing their meals before them—steaming plates, polished silver, aromas of herbs and spices rising from brass serving dishes. As they ate, the heaviness lifted, and conversation began to flow more naturally.

They learned pieces of each other. Alexia was carefree, going with the flow, convinced life was too short to worry. She admitted she couldn’t cook anything to save her life but could clean better than anyone else she knew. Nate, by contrast, was structured, disciplined, precise. He preferred order in everything, from his schedule to the way he folded napkins.

And yet, in between bites of food and sips of wine, something unspoken stirred.

They stole glances, neither lingering too long but always returning. Nate found himself memorizing the way the lamplight caught Alexia’s cheekbones, how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Alexia caught the way Nate’s usually stiff composure softened when he looked at her, how his gaze lingered just a little too long before darting back to his plate.

By the time dessert arrived, both were smiling more easily than either had expected. The night felt less like strategy and more like something dangerously real.