Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 350: The Big Traitor

–Livana–

"Here are their commands, my queen."

Rhys placed the recording before me with quiet precision.

Voices filled the room—layered, foreign, calculated. Different leaders, different languages, yet all speaking the same intent.

Take Damon.

Break him.

Force me to surrender the drive.

"They will torture him," Logan murmured, his voice low, restrained.

"Should I go there now?" Jane asked.

I glanced at both of them.

Injured. Still recovering. Still willing.

Jane, especially—loyalty etched deep into her bones. She and Damon had grown up together. Trust like that doesn’t fade. It sharpens.

"No." I shook my head once, calm, absolute. "Don’t worry." My voice softened—but only slightly. "I have everything under control."

I pushed the tablet away, then swiped my hand across the glass table.

Information bloomed instantly.

Files. Faces. Histories. Secrets.

Every sin they had ever buried—laid bare before me like offerings.

I had their voices.

Their identities.

Their filth.

My fingers moved once more—decisive.

The countdown began.

If Damon and Caine were harmed...

Everything would be released.

Not just to the media—

To the entire world.

"What are you doing?" Logan asked, stepping closer.

I didn’t answer.

He picked up the tablet, scanning the data, his brows tightening.

"...You’re blackmailing them?"

I met his gaze.

A single nod.

Jane let out a quiet chuckle—dark, approving.

Not all of them had agreed. A few Presidents had refused to support the others’ demands. Fractures within power—useful. Predictable.

Leverage.

If even one of them stepped out of line...

They would all fall together.

I made sure of that.

Twelve hours.

It had been twelve hours since Damon and Caine were taken.

And no—

They were not in the Philippines.

I made sure of that, too.

A tracker.

Buried in their veins.

Undetected.

Carelessness on their captors’ part. Or arrogance.

Either way—

A mistake.

"Lore, are you awake?" I spoke into the comms.

A beat.

"Hey..." Lore’s voice came through, laced with sleep.

"I have a job for you," I said, my tone sharpening into something colder. "Focus on the names I sent. You’ll enjoy this."

A pause—then a low whistle.

"Wow... yeah, I will," Lore murmured, now fully awake. "But damn, boss... this is hardcore."

"I know you love challenges," I replied smoothly. "So I’m giving you this one. Remember—your brother-in-law and your cousin-in-law’s lives depend on that evidence."

A beat. Then—

"Got it, sis!"

In the background, I heard Alyssa.

"Will they be okay?"

The question lingered. Fragile. Human.

I leaned back slightly, my gaze fixed on the cascade of data before me—the countdown ticking silently in the corner.

Control. Pressure. Precision.

"I’m sure they will be," I murmured.

Because they have me.

And I do not lose.

–Laura–

I could feel the vibrations.

The kids were in their playroom under the harsh fluorescent lights, their toys scattered across the floor—but even there, I could feel it. A faint trembling beneath everything. Like distant thunder.

Or gunfire.

Light. Subtle. Maybe I was just being sensitive...

"Mama!"

Sky’s cry cut through the air.

It was the second time today.

He wasn’t used to this setup. Whenever Livana left the country, she always made time to call him. Always. But now... it was different.

We couldn’t communicate with them at all.

"Shit," Damien muttered.

He was in front of the computer, eyes locked on the monitors, tracking everything happening outside. And that’s when I realized—

The vibrations weren’t in my head.

They were real.

Intruders.

And the faint tremors I felt? They came from the machine guns hidden within the statues surrounding the mansion.

"Mama..." Sky hiccuped as he stumbled into our room.

He ran straight to me, wrapping his arms around my belly, burying his face into it.

"Oh, baby..." I pouted, my chest tightening as my eyes stung. "I’m sorry... let’s wait for Mama, okay?"

Damien grabbed a bottle of water, guiding it gently to Sky’s lips. He rubbed his back in slow, steady motions.

I wiped Sky’s tears... and mine.

"Please stop crying," I whispered, voice trembling.

Sky sniffled, then reached up and touched my cheeks.

"Don’t cry!" he said, shaking his head, still crying himself—dramatic as ever.

"Babe," Damien said softly, amusement laced in his voice, "I don’t think you have the right to cry when he’s crying."

I laughed weakly, wiping my face.

He leaned in and kissed me—gentle, grounding.

"I’ll check on a few more things, my love."

He pressed a kiss to Sky’s head before stepping out.

I hugged the little boy tighter.

Then I made my way to the playroom.

Andro sat quietly in the corner, eyes glued to a tablet Livana had given me. No Wi-Fi. No trackers. Just stored video messages from Tyrona.

He kept replaying them.

Over and over again.

My heart ached.

Damien told me Tyrona’s house was surrounded. I didn’t know what that meant for them... for him.

"Dinner’s ready," Amiliee called from the dining area. "Now where’s Alyssa?" She scoffed. "And David?"

"They’re in the control room," Damien answered from afar. "There’s a bit of an emergency. Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll bring them food."

"Alright," she sighed. "Tell them not to overwork."

"Andro, twins," I called softly.

Andro stood immediately, his movements quiet, his eyes... empty.

Lonely.

It broke something in me.

I walked over and pulled him into a hug, cradling the back of his head gently.

"How about I teach you all a game later?" I murmured, brushing my fingers through his hair. "We’ll wait for your mom together, okay?"

He nodded.

Zendaya grabbed Sky’s hand and pulled him along.

"Stop crying, Sky! You’re not a baby!"

Of course, he cried harder.

Zendaya could be tough—but she loved him fiercely.

"I’m sorry, Andro," I whispered again. "We’ll find a way to contact your mommy, okay?"

He nodded once more.

Dinner was... quiet.

Too quiet.

The soft clinking of utensils echoed around the table. No laughter. No chatter. Just tension sitting heavy in the air.

Aelia suddenly cried, her tiny voice breaking through the silence. Deanne immediately reached for her from the crib beside her—but Damien, who had just returned after delivering food, stepped in and gently took the baby from her arms.

"Eat," he said firmly.

"Thank you, Damien." Deanne murmured.

"I got you." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

I smiled faintly.

He really is the best husband.

I know him. I know where he came from—born illegitimate, carrying wounds he never talks about. When I told him I was pregnant, he panicked.

But he never failed me.

Not once.

He never failed to love me.

Never failed to take care of us.

The best husband.

The best father.

The table was filled with food—everything we could ever want. Lavish, warm, perfectly prepared.

But none of it mattered.

We couldn’t eat properly.

We couldn’t swallow.

Not when Livana, Damon, Caine, Jane, and Logan were out there—

Fighting.

I don’t even know if they’re eating at all.

–Damon–

Cloths were yanked off our heads.

I blinked, momentarily blinded by the harsh lights above. My vision adjusted slowly, shapes forming, details sharpening.

Caine was beside me.

Our backs were cuffed tightly to the chairs, metal biting into our wrists. Ankles secured. No room to move. No room to test limits—yet.

From what I can tell—

We’ve been missing for at least twenty-four hours.

We slept through most of the transport.

Efficient.

Professional.

Around us, double-mirrored glass.

Observation room.

Which means—

We’re being watched.

Powerful men, most likely. The kind who don’t show their faces unless necessary.

"Wow," I chuckled.

Caine laughed beside me, low and entertained.

"We’re like predators thrown into an arena," he said. "This is fun."

I tilted my head slightly, testing the tension in the restraints.

"I told you," I murmured. "They’ve got the best kidnapping setup. I think it’s their kink."

We both laughed.

Relaxed.

Amused.

Because fear?

Fear is useless in rooms like this.

"I think my wife’s going to be pissed," Caine said, mock panic creeping into his tone. "Oh, shit—she’s going to kill me. We can’t have bruises, man. Our wives will kill us."

"Yes, I know," I exhaled, almost bored. "But I like it when she goes full psycho."

A faint smirk tugged at my lips.

"Evil queen mode," I added. "She’s... dangerously attractive like that."

"Which wife?" Caine asked, turning his head slightly.

We looked at each other—

—and laughed.

He started snickering, making fun of Livana as the "evil stepmother," recalling how the kids actually played along whenever she dressed the part.

"Both," I said simply.

"You really think this is funny?"

The voice cut through the room like glass.

Cold.

Sharp.

We both stilled.

A woman stepped into view.

Black tailored suit—perfectly fitted, precise. Clean lines. Authority stitched into every inch of fabric.

Our jaws dropped.

"Kelly... what the hell?" Caine blurted out, disbelief clear in his voice. "You’re into this?"

Her lips curled into a smirk.

Controlled.

Knowing.

"You traitor," I muttered, eyes narrowing slightly—not in panic, but in calculation.

Because something doesn’t add up.

Kelly’s name—

It was never on the list of traitors.

Not once.

So why is she here?

Why is she standing on that side of the glass—

Instead of ours?

Did she sell us out?

Or is this something deeper—

Something we haven’t seen yet?

My gaze stayed locked on her.

Waiting.

Watching.

Calculating.

Because betrayal—

Is never that simple.