Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 336: Ghosts

–Livana–

I woke in the middle of the night to tend to my needs, the quiet darkness wrapping around me like silk. My stomach growled—low, insistent. Unfamiliar.

I have never been hungry at this hour.

But then again... I am no longer alone in my body.

After finishing in the bathroom and washing my hands, I moved toward the bed, where my husband slept peacefully—unaware of the small storm stirring within me.

I tapped him lightly.

He woke instantly, eyes sharp, scanning the room like a man trained to expect danger even in dreams.

"Everything alright?" he asked quickly.

"I’m hungry," I said softly. "But I can’t go downstairs. Tyrona is probably somewhere in the mansion."

"Okay." He sat up immediately, the sleep still clinging to him, yet already retreating. He gestured for me to lie back down, tucking me in with quiet care before turning on the television. "What do you crave right now?"

His voice was rough with sleep, but his movements were precise—like a soldier answering a silent command.

"I don’t know," I murmured, though a taste lingered at the edge of my mind. "But... I want a kani sandwich."

"Kani?"

I nodded slowly.

"With mango, lettuce... and crab sticks."

"Crab sticks..." He paused, thinking. "Wife, this might take a while."

"While you’re at it," I added smoothly, "can you fry sweet potatoes? Cut like french fries."

He took out his phone, already typing.

"What else, Boss?" he asked.

I smiled faintly.

"Kiwi juice."

"Got it." He nodded, giving a small salute.

"Give me a kiss," I added.

He paused for just a second, a sly grin curving his lips before he leaned down and kissed me.

Only when he left did I reach for the remote, expanding the screen—my quiet window into the veins of this house.

The cameras flickered to life.

Tyrona stepped out of her room, rubbing her neck as if waking from something restless. Meanwhile, my husband was already in the kitchen, searching—learning—adapting. He even took out real crab sticks.

Not imitation.

Of course.

He prepared everything carefully.

Then—

She approached him.

Bold.

Familiar.

She wrapped her arms around him from behind.

My fingers tightened around the remote.

He pushed her away immediately, his voice sharp as a blade cutting through silk.

Tyrona only chuckled, unbothered, settling onto the barstool with a glass of wine, speaking as though she belonged there.

As though she belonged to him.

Something stirred within me.

Not anger.

No.

Something far more delicate... and far more dangerous.

A quiet craving.

I rose.

Each step down the stairs felt deliberate, like descending into a stage I had already scripted.

I stopped at the corner—just enough for her to see me.

My husband turned slightly, his gaze brushing over me.

He understood.

Of course, he did.

Tyrona sighed dramatically when he continued to ignore her.

I moved—just a fraction.

Enough.

Her head turned.

Her eyes met mine.

And in that single moment—

Her world cracked.

Her breath hitched.

"Livana?" she whispered, her voice thin, fragile.

"Why are you calling my wife?" Damon asked, irritation already lacing his tone.

Tyrona pointed at me, her hand trembling.

"Tyrona, stop messing around," Damon said coldly. "My wife is dead."

"No!" she screamed, her eyes locked onto me. "She’s right there—Livana! How is she alive?!"

"What?" Damon stepped forward, looking around with calculated confusion. "Are you delusional?"

Perfect.

Tyrona turned to him—

And I vanished.

A step back.

A turn.

A silent retreat into the shadows.

Her voice rose, frantic now. "Are you fucking kidding me?! I swear, she was here!"

Her footsteps followed.

Closer.

Desperate.

But this is my house.

My labyrinth.

My rules.

I pressed my palm against the wall, slipping into the hidden passage as it opened to me like a secret I alone deserved. It closed behind me without a sound.

"I swear, she was here!" Tyrona insisted.

"You are out of your mind," Damon scoffed. "Go back to your room, Tyrona. And stop drinking... or I’ll kill you."

Ah.

There it was.

I smiled.

Slowly.

Delicately.

My hand drifted to my stomach, warmth blooming beneath my palm.

This feeling—

It wasn’t guilt.

It was... delight.

A soft, intoxicating thrill curling through me like smoke.

Psychological torture is such an elegant art.

Subtle.

Precise.

Untraceable.

I tilted my head slightly, imagining the fracture forming inside her mind—hairline cracks spreading with every doubt, every fear.

Yes...

I will take my time with her.

I will unravel her gently.

Until she no longer knows what is real... 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

And what is me.

–Alyssa–

I was laughing while watching Livana’s little "show." Even Lore rubbed his arms like he was getting chills from how creepy her slow revenge on Tyrona was.

"Mama!"

I heard knocking and soft cries just outside our room.

I quickly pulled on Lore’s shirt and my panties before opening the door slightly.

Sky was there—on his tiptoes—trying to reach the doorknob of his parents’ room.

"Mama..." he whimpered.

"Sky," I called softly.

He turned immediately and ran to me, pointing at the door. I carried him inside and closed ours gently.

"Tita... Mama," he insisted, still pointing.

I walked him over to the monitor.

"Let’s wait for Mama, okay?"

He wrapped his tiny arms around my neck as we both watched.

Livana appeared from a hidden door on the second floor, completely composed, as if she hadn’t just done something terrifying. She casually walked back toward her room.

I carried Sky back to the hallway and set him down.

He giggled and ran straight to Livana.

She glanced at me with that same knowing grin before letting him inside.

I returned to the monitor.

Tyrona’s hands were trembling as she stumbled back to her room.

Meanwhile, my brother continued preparing whatever he was making for his wife—completely unaware, or maybe just choosing not to see.

I wrapped my arms around Lore’s neck.

He yawned.

"Can we sleep now?" I murmured, absentmindedly tracing circles against his chest through the thin fabric.

"Sure," he said with a grin.

He pulled me onto his lap, pressing soft kisses along my neck. His hands slipped under the oversized shirt I was wearing, cupping my right bosom.

We kissed—slow, lingering—like we were trying to memorize each other.

I could feel the tension building in him, restrained but undeniable.

I had already finished my mock tests.

Tomorrow, we’d be back at school for our midterms—but in the afternoon. Our professors had given us special consideration.

He lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed.

Careful.

Measured.

Like he always was with me.

"I love you, Lorenzo," I whispered.

He let out a quiet, strained laugh, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Alyssa... you make it really hard for me to behave," he murmured. "I’m barely holding it together."

I smiled faintly.

"Just one moment," I said softly.

Then added—

"Lock the door."

He exhaled, shook his head slightly like he was fighting himself, then walked to the door and locked it.

–Sophia–

It’s my second time entering this place.

The underground laboratory.

The air hit me the moment I stepped in—sharp with disinfectant, sterile, almost metallic, mixed with something deeper... something artificial. It clung to my lungs even through the mask I wore, making every breath feel heavier.

I walked slowly, my eyes scanning everything.

The DNA experiments.

The quiet hum of machines.

The bodies.

Clones—perfect, breathing replicas—grown as decoys.

This is how Livana escaped death.

This is how Aunt Ines disappeared when she needed to.

And now...

This is how we’re going to save my husband.

My gaze shifted to one chamber.

There it was.

A growing clone of Kai.

My chest tightened.

We needed parts of that body—an artery... portions of the spine—to give my husband a chance to move again.

To live normally again.

To hold me again.

To walk.

To be himself.

I swallowed hard and forced my feet to move.

Kai was upstairs, in a private room. Dr. White, along with a team of doctors and scientists, surrounded him earlier—discussing, planning, calculating every possible outcome of the surgery.

This wasn’t their first time.

They’ve done it before.

One of our agents had suffered multiple gunshots near the spine and survived the procedure.

Kai only had one.

So they said the chances were better.

They were confident.

They said once everything heals... he’ll be able to move again.

I held onto that.

I needed to.

I left the laboratory and made my way back to him.

When I entered the room, he was awake.

Listening.

His eyes followed the doctors as they spoke, absorbing every word. I could see the questions in his gaze—the frustration of being trapped in silence.

He tried to respond.

A groan. A faint sound. A broken word here and there.

A hum.

That was all he had.

When the room finally cleared, silence settled between us.

I walked toward him slowly and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

Warm.

Still him.

I removed my mask and smiled.

"It’ll be fine," I said softly. "Soon, you’ll be moving like before... carrying me in your arms while you—"

I stopped myself just enough to keep it light, teasing, familiar.

A small smile formed on his lips.

He tried.

God, he tried.

But it wasn’t the same.

Parts of his face didn’t move the way they used to.

And that—

That broke something inside me.

My chest ached.

We had plans.

Beautiful, simple plans.

A family.

A honeymoon that never really got to happen.

A future that felt so close before it was ripped away from us.

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Slow. Deliberate.

I stared at him, focusing.

Morse code.

"D.O.N.T. C.R.Y."

My vision blurred instantly.

I swallowed the tears, forcing them back as I nodded.

"I’m not," I whispered, even if it was a lie.

He slowly turned his head, his gaze shifting toward the bed beside him.

"I’m fine," I told him gently.

But he blinked again, insistent.

Rest.

He wanted me to rest.

Even like this... he was still taking care of me.

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

Careful.

Gentle.

"I’m right here," I murmured.

Then I moved to the bed meant for me.

I removed my cardigan and sat down before slowly lying on my side, facing him.

Watching him.

Memorizing every detail.

Afraid—

so deeply afraid—

that if I closed my eyes, even for a second...

I might lose him.