Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes-Chapter 131: See you again

Chapter 130

Jack

This is not how I wanted to spend Lanny’s first birthday.

On a fucking phone call.

Not holding him.

Not kissing him.

Not pretending I’m not about to cry when he smashes cake everywhere.

Instead, I’m perched on the edge of my too-big, too-cold, too-lonely royal bed, staring at the burner phone like it’s my lifeline. Because it is.

I let out a slow breath as I listen to the noise on the other end — the clatter of plates, Nolan’s dramatic complaining, Ciel attempting (and failing) to shush everyone, Lanny babbling cheerful nonsense that should’ve been right in my ear, not filtered through cheap speakers.

I drag a hand down my face.

I can’t even ask them to send pictures on a normal phone, because I’m pretty sure the military duke has access to the entire kingdom’s cable line.

Peter warned me about that, and Peter seems to know sruff, so I’m not taking risks. Not with them, so I should just suck it up.

"—Jack? Jack, are you listening?" Nolan’s voice snaps back through the tiny speaker.

"Yes," I say, even though my chest aches.

"Don’t sulk," Ciel says in the background, trying, very poorly to comfort me. "We’ll throw another birthday when you’re here. A huge one."

"Obviously," I say, attempting a playful tone, but even I can hear how thin it sounds.

The background noise filters through — clattering dishes, Lanny’s babbling, Nolan muttering curses as something crashes.

It hurts more because it sounds like home.

"We’re lighting the candle now," Ciel says, voice warm, gentle, glowing in a way he never uses with anyone but Lanny and Nolan. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

My voice cracks, but they pretend not to hear it.

They begin singing, all off-key.

Nolan is flat.

Ciel drags the notes like he’s mourning someone.

Lanny squeals over every third word.

And I feel...

God, I feel like shit.

Not holding him.

Not seeing his face.

Not getting to kiss frosting off his cheeks.

Not getting to put him on my shoulders and pretend he’s flying.

"I’m cutting the cake now," Ciel says over the noise, breathless. "Say something to him."

I swallow hard.

My throat burns.

"Hey, buddy," I manage, voice low, warm, painfully strained. "Happy birthday, my boy. Daddy loves you."

There’s a smack — then a shrieking laugh.

That beautiful baby laugh that always fixed everything inside me.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

For a moment, it feels like I’m there.

Then—

"CAKE— EVERYWHERE— WHY IS IT IN HIS HAIR—" Nolan cries, horrified.

Ciel breaks into bright laughter.

A small, helpless smile tugs at my mouth.

Pathetic. Small. Painful.

Maybe this is enough for tonight.

Maybe it has to be.

***

Ciel

"He wasn’t happy," I murmur once we finally coax Lanny into sleep, his tiny fists still sticky with cake crumbs.

"Of course he wasn’t," Nolan says gently, lowering his voice as he steps beside me. "You know how much he adores Lanny. Missing his birthday? That had to hurt.

I sigh, staring at our son’s peaceful, chubby face. His little mouth twitches in his dreams, and I smooth a hand over his soft curls.

Nolan comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, warm and solid.

The second his body touches mine, some tight, coiled string inside me loosens. I lean into him without thinking, resting my head against his shoulder.

"I feel guilty," I admit quietly. "Like we stole something from him."

Nolan shakes his head. "You didn’t steal anything. Jack’s situation did. And he knows that."

"Still..." My voice trails off as my chest tightens. "First birthdays only happen once."

"Jack will get his own celebration soon," Nolan says softly. "And you know him — he’ll turn it into something ridiculous and over-the-top. Lanny’s going to be spoiled rotten."

A reluctant laugh slips out of me.

"That’s true."

***

Jack

Great news.

Finally.

I can have them come to the palace. I’m so excited I can feel it in my hands — they keep shaking every time I try to do anything. Just yesterday I was miserable, sulking like a child because I missed Lanny’s first birthday, and now suddenly Russell brings me this... this miracle of a message.

They’re allowed to live here.

In this cold, echoing place that hasn’t felt like a home since the moment I stepped inside.

I threw myself into preparations so fast the servants probably think I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have — I haven’t stopped moving since dawn.

I get the toddler bed, personally assembling it piece by piece. I assembled the one, Lanny used at the beach house...well with Nolan’s help. That’s beside the point, though I know what I’m doing.

Sitting on the polished palace floor, surrounded by instruction papers and tiny metal bolts, I work in silence and try not to chew through my nerves.

The moment Russell told me they were finally cleared to come to the palace, I nearly ran down the hall. I didn’t even wait a full minute before ordering Peter to go collect them.

He’s the only person here I trust.

Well... trust enough.

I hate that I couldn’t go myself.

Stupid protocols.

Stupid image management.

Stupid monarchy.

I feel like a bird in a gilded cage — the bars are made of gold, but they’re still bars.I can’t even walk within the palace gates without an escort, much less travel across the city to get my own family.

But if the alternative is being a normal citizen under the thumbs of those Dukes?

I’ll take the cage anyway.

I tighten the final bolt and sit back, breathing out through my nose.

The bed is small.

Cute.

Wooden rails curved like little waves.

I imagine Lanny sleeping here, drooling on the pillow, tiny hands curled to his chest.

God, I’ve missed him.

I place the little blanket — the one Ciel embroidered crooked stars into ,on top of the small mattress.

"Come home," I murmur to no one, to the empty room, to the bed, to the air.

And then I sit there, waiting for Peter to call.