เข้าสู่ระบบแชร์
CLXIII : oh great, you’re charming again
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด:
2025-04-12 17:41:15
บทที่เกี่ยวข้อง
His Son, Her Secret CLXIV : small missiles and bigger hearts
We arrived at the Romanov villa gates nearly two hours after leaving San Francisco. With one emergency stop I’d rather not talk about, and a series of events that could only be explained as Pascha being Pascha.It started with me just needing to pee. A quick stop at a small, empty-looking rest area. But of course, Pascha decided to turn on the hazard lights and call out from the car window, “Don’t get lost, Miss Moguel. The woods can be cruel!”I shot him a glare.Naturally, he didn’t stop there. When I came back and reached for the car door, he locked it automatically and smiled at me through the window like he’d just won some twisted Olympic event.“Pascha Romanov, I swear to God, I will—”Click.The door unlocked. He laughed for the next ten minutes straight while I sat in silence, breathing slowly, seriously considering whether throwing my sandal at him would be too dramatic or way too soft.The moment we arrived at the villa, I understood why Max loved it here. The Romanov villa
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-12His Son, Her Secret CLXV : a boy, a boat, a bloodline
"Pass the pilaf, please!" Trisha was already shouting before she even sat down, grabbing the plate and then plopping into her seat.Igor sat at the head of the table with two small creatures flanking him. Max on the right, Mischa on the left. Both with eyes shining and hands ready to pounce. I sat in the middle, with Pascha—mysteriously—choosing to sit right beside me, even though plenty of other chairs were still empty.He sat too close. His left arm draped behind my chair, and his knee… well, his knee kept brushing against mine far more often than lunch table etiquette would allow. Every time I shifted, he shifted with me.And of course, his fingers occasionally played with the ends of my hair that fell over my shoulder.I refused to react. That would mean he won. So I focused all my attention on the plate of pilaf and the roast chicken coated in fragrant Middle Eastern spices made by Natalia herself."Uncle!" Max spoke through a mouthful. "Did you ever throw Daddy into the sea?"Ig
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-13His Son, Her Secret CLXVI : Cruel Summer, Salty Shoulder
Pascha finally pulled over. Water sprayed out on both sides as his jet ski hit the last wave before reaching the shore. In one smooth motion, he turned off the engine, jumped off onto the sand without losing his balance, and walked toward us.I had just picked up a glass of cold coconut water from the little table beside my lounge chair when he arrived. And without saying a word, he took it.He sipped it like it was the most satisfying drink in the world.“Thanks,” he said shortly, not even looking at me as he drained what was very clearly my coconut water.“Pascha,” Natalia scolded softly from beside me, “get your own drink. That one’s Belva’s.”Pascha shrugged, then winked at his mom. “She likes to share.”“I like sharing permission, not drinks,” I shot back, pulling my towel tighter around my legs, trying to ignore the way his face still dripped with saltwater and sins from the past.He just gave a short laugh, then dropped onto the sand next to my chair. “Let’s go. Ride the jet sk
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-14His Son, Her Secret CLXVII : Salt on My Skin
Max’s floatie was a little too tight, which I’d done on purpose because I knew my son. Give him space and he’d swim as far as possible until someone thought a new dolphin species had been discovered. But now that we were getting ready to snorkel, the floatie had to come off. “I still think this is a bad idea,” I muttered while fiddling with the clips on the side of Max’s floatie. “But it’s fun!” Max shouted as he squirmed, just trying to break free so he could dive in like some kind of sea ninja. “Hold still, Maximus Prime. You don’t want to snorkel with a floatie this tight. Trust me, it’ll make you look like a failed floating donut.” Mischa stood next to us, already geared up with her snorkel mask and little fins on her feet. She looked calm and efficient, like a tiny professional swimmer. Even her curly hair had been neatly tied back with a blue ribbon by Igor. “I took off my floatie a while ago,” she said flatly. “My mom’s not that protective.” I glanced at her and raised an
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-15His Son, Her Secret CLXVIII : we were just tired, weren’t we?
Morning slipped in through the thin curtains in Max’s room, carrying the scent of the sea and a cool breeze that brushed against my skin like the fading touch of a dream. I opened my eyes slowly, my breathing calm… too calm. Comfortable. Warm.And just as I moved to run my hand through Max’s hairl, who usually curled up in my arms every morning, I didn’t find the soft curls of a four-year-old.I felt a chest. Warm. Strong. Rising and falling gently behind me.And then it hit me.I wasn’t hugging Max. I was the one being hugged.My whole body stiffened.I swear, in that second, every nerve ending in my body went off like fireworks beneath my skin. A large hand rested across my waist, one leg draped casually over mine, and the calm breath against the back of my neck was too familiar to mistake.Pascha.Romanov.I held my breath, trying to piece together last night. All I remembered was: after snorkeling, Max wouldn’t let go of me, not even during dinner. Then we went up to his room beca
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-16His Son, Her Secret CLXIX : she grew where my goodbye bled
Two days after Pascha went back to Russia too, my house was quiet again.Or... almost quiet.I was sitting at the kitchen table, still in pajamas, my hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail, a half-finished cup of coffee in my hand. Morning sunlight streamed through the big windows, warming the wooden table with a slow, sleepy glow. Max sat with one leg crossed over the other, one hand holding a spoonful of cereal, the other clutching my phone.Pascha’s face filled the screen.“I told you not too much milk in the cereal,” he commented through the video call, his voice faint through the speaker.Max raised an eyebrow. “But I like it when the cereal sinks. The milk’s like a battlefield.”I sipped my coffee, trying not to laugh.“Where’s Mischa?” Max asked, popping a spoonful into his mouth while staring at the screen.“She’s at her house. My house and her house are in different cities, Maximus Prime,” Pascha answered.“Hmm,” Max mumbled, chewing while glancing sideways. “So... that means yo
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-16His Son, Her Secret CLXX : november came again
I swallowed hard, as if somehow that would drown the sudden wave of emotion crashing in without warning. Stay calm, Belva. Breathe. You're an adult. You know where you stand. I kept telling myself that. In my head, I even pictured slapping myself—hard—just to snap out of it. Hey. You two aren’t anything anymore. You haven’t been for a long time. Not since that night five years ago, when I sat in the mansion across from St. Sophia’s Church, wearing a white hand-embroidered dress and a heart already halfway shattered. And then I left. So today, five years later, when Kyara read that message from Kiano saying Pascha was discharged from the hospital with Mikaela, who’s pregnant... I was supposed to feel nothing. That’s what I told myself. What I’d repeated like a silent prayer over and over. Pascha is Max’s father. That’s it. We’re just two adults who once loved each other until it bled, and now we’re just... responsible. So why are my hands shaking? Kyara looked at me whil
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-17His Son, Her Secret CLXXI : I’m Fine, Just Ask My Mouse and My Mantra
The restaurant stood grandly by the beach, with huge windows facing the ocean. Honestly, this wasn’t what I pictured when Max shouted “pizza!” in front of the house.I glanced at Jullian as we stepped in and were greeted by a hostess with a professional smile. “This place... is not your average pizza joint,” Jullian smiled. “It’s pizza... with a five-star rating.”“And a price tag that could pay two months of electricity,” I muttered.“Minor detail,” he said casually.Max didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the fancy interior or the gleaming ceramic plates. “Jullian,” he said seriously, “if pizza is round, why is the box square?” “Because triangles are too suspicious for a global conspiracy.” Jullian answered without hesitation.“And... why does the cheese melt but not run away?” Max continued, eyes wide.“Because cheese knows it’s being watched.”Clara was filming them on her phone, laughing softly behind the screen.Max pointed at Jullian’s face. “He’s totally a secret agent
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-18
บทล่าสุด
His Son, Her Secret CLXXII : Heir of the House, Heart of the Chaos
“Mommy!” Max appeared, hugging Megatron. The new robot Pascha sent this morning. The toy was as tall as Max’s knees.His face lit up when he saw me. But then his eyes shifted to Javier standing next to me, and his expression changed to something… suspicious.He tilted his head. Scanned Javier from head to toe. “Who are you?” Javier, who had been laughing in the car earlier over baby Max stories, froze for a second, then glanced at me. “Max?”I nodded slowly. “Yeah. This is Max.”Javier stared at Max for a moment longer, “Dios mío. He’s... he’s a carbon copy of Pascha. God, Bell, even the way he stands with that sideways lean... that’s so Pascha.”“I know.”“He even has the signature Romanov eyebrow lift,” he muttered.Meanwhile, Max hugged Megatron tighter, then stepped forward. “Are you... Mommy’s new husband?”I choked on my breath. “Maximus Prime!” I gave him a sharp look. “Don’t say stuff like that!”Max just shrugged. “I’m analyzing. Not saying stuff.”Javier burst out laughing.
His Son, Her Secret CLXXI : I’m Fine, Just Ask My Mouse and My Mantra
The restaurant stood grandly by the beach, with huge windows facing the ocean. Honestly, this wasn’t what I pictured when Max shouted “pizza!” in front of the house.I glanced at Jullian as we stepped in and were greeted by a hostess with a professional smile. “This place... is not your average pizza joint,” Jullian smiled. “It’s pizza... with a five-star rating.”“And a price tag that could pay two months of electricity,” I muttered.“Minor detail,” he said casually.Max didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the fancy interior or the gleaming ceramic plates. “Jullian,” he said seriously, “if pizza is round, why is the box square?” “Because triangles are too suspicious for a global conspiracy.” Jullian answered without hesitation.“And... why does the cheese melt but not run away?” Max continued, eyes wide.“Because cheese knows it’s being watched.”Clara was filming them on her phone, laughing softly behind the screen.Max pointed at Jullian’s face. “He’s totally a secret agent
His Son, Her Secret CLXX : november came again
I swallowed hard, as if somehow that would drown the sudden wave of emotion crashing in without warning. Stay calm, Belva. Breathe. You're an adult. You know where you stand. I kept telling myself that. In my head, I even pictured slapping myself—hard—just to snap out of it. Hey. You two aren’t anything anymore. You haven’t been for a long time. Not since that night five years ago, when I sat in the mansion across from St. Sophia’s Church, wearing a white hand-embroidered dress and a heart already halfway shattered. And then I left. So today, five years later, when Kyara read that message from Kiano saying Pascha was discharged from the hospital with Mikaela, who’s pregnant... I was supposed to feel nothing. That’s what I told myself. What I’d repeated like a silent prayer over and over. Pascha is Max’s father. That’s it. We’re just two adults who once loved each other until it bled, and now we’re just... responsible. So why are my hands shaking? Kyara looked at me whil
His Son, Her Secret CLXIX : she grew where my goodbye bled
Two days after Pascha went back to Russia too, my house was quiet again.Or... almost quiet.I was sitting at the kitchen table, still in pajamas, my hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail, a half-finished cup of coffee in my hand. Morning sunlight streamed through the big windows, warming the wooden table with a slow, sleepy glow. Max sat with one leg crossed over the other, one hand holding a spoonful of cereal, the other clutching my phone.Pascha’s face filled the screen.“I told you not too much milk in the cereal,” he commented through the video call, his voice faint through the speaker.Max raised an eyebrow. “But I like it when the cereal sinks. The milk’s like a battlefield.”I sipped my coffee, trying not to laugh.“Where’s Mischa?” Max asked, popping a spoonful into his mouth while staring at the screen.“She’s at her house. My house and her house are in different cities, Maximus Prime,” Pascha answered.“Hmm,” Max mumbled, chewing while glancing sideways. “So... that means yo
His Son, Her Secret CLXVIII : we were just tired, weren’t we?
Morning slipped in through the thin curtains in Max’s room, carrying the scent of the sea and a cool breeze that brushed against my skin like the fading touch of a dream. I opened my eyes slowly, my breathing calm… too calm. Comfortable. Warm.And just as I moved to run my hand through Max’s hairl, who usually curled up in my arms every morning, I didn’t find the soft curls of a four-year-old.I felt a chest. Warm. Strong. Rising and falling gently behind me.And then it hit me.I wasn’t hugging Max. I was the one being hugged.My whole body stiffened.I swear, in that second, every nerve ending in my body went off like fireworks beneath my skin. A large hand rested across my waist, one leg draped casually over mine, and the calm breath against the back of my neck was too familiar to mistake.Pascha.Romanov.I held my breath, trying to piece together last night. All I remembered was: after snorkeling, Max wouldn’t let go of me, not even during dinner. Then we went up to his room beca
His Son, Her Secret CLXVII : Salt on My Skin
Max’s floatie was a little too tight, which I’d done on purpose because I knew my son. Give him space and he’d swim as far as possible until someone thought a new dolphin species had been discovered. But now that we were getting ready to snorkel, the floatie had to come off. “I still think this is a bad idea,” I muttered while fiddling with the clips on the side of Max’s floatie. “But it’s fun!” Max shouted as he squirmed, just trying to break free so he could dive in like some kind of sea ninja. “Hold still, Maximus Prime. You don’t want to snorkel with a floatie this tight. Trust me, it’ll make you look like a failed floating donut.” Mischa stood next to us, already geared up with her snorkel mask and little fins on her feet. She looked calm and efficient, like a tiny professional swimmer. Even her curly hair had been neatly tied back with a blue ribbon by Igor. “I took off my floatie a while ago,” she said flatly. “My mom’s not that protective.” I glanced at her and raised an
His Son, Her Secret CLXVI : Cruel Summer, Salty Shoulder
Pascha finally pulled over. Water sprayed out on both sides as his jet ski hit the last wave before reaching the shore. In one smooth motion, he turned off the engine, jumped off onto the sand without losing his balance, and walked toward us.I had just picked up a glass of cold coconut water from the little table beside my lounge chair when he arrived. And without saying a word, he took it.He sipped it like it was the most satisfying drink in the world.“Thanks,” he said shortly, not even looking at me as he drained what was very clearly my coconut water.“Pascha,” Natalia scolded softly from beside me, “get your own drink. That one’s Belva’s.”Pascha shrugged, then winked at his mom. “She likes to share.”“I like sharing permission, not drinks,” I shot back, pulling my towel tighter around my legs, trying to ignore the way his face still dripped with saltwater and sins from the past.He just gave a short laugh, then dropped onto the sand next to my chair. “Let’s go. Ride the jet sk
His Son, Her Secret CLXV : a boy, a boat, a bloodline
"Pass the pilaf, please!" Trisha was already shouting before she even sat down, grabbing the plate and then plopping into her seat.Igor sat at the head of the table with two small creatures flanking him. Max on the right, Mischa on the left. Both with eyes shining and hands ready to pounce. I sat in the middle, with Pascha—mysteriously—choosing to sit right beside me, even though plenty of other chairs were still empty.He sat too close. His left arm draped behind my chair, and his knee… well, his knee kept brushing against mine far more often than lunch table etiquette would allow. Every time I shifted, he shifted with me.And of course, his fingers occasionally played with the ends of my hair that fell over my shoulder.I refused to react. That would mean he won. So I focused all my attention on the plate of pilaf and the roast chicken coated in fragrant Middle Eastern spices made by Natalia herself."Uncle!" Max spoke through a mouthful. "Did you ever throw Daddy into the sea?"Ig
His Son, Her Secret CLXIV : small missiles and bigger hearts
We arrived at the Romanov villa gates nearly two hours after leaving San Francisco. With one emergency stop I’d rather not talk about, and a series of events that could only be explained as Pascha being Pascha.It started with me just needing to pee. A quick stop at a small, empty-looking rest area. But of course, Pascha decided to turn on the hazard lights and call out from the car window, “Don’t get lost, Miss Moguel. The woods can be cruel!”I shot him a glare.Naturally, he didn’t stop there. When I came back and reached for the car door, he locked it automatically and smiled at me through the window like he’d just won some twisted Olympic event.“Pascha Romanov, I swear to God, I will—”Click.The door unlocked. He laughed for the next ten minutes straight while I sat in silence, breathing slowly, seriously considering whether throwing my sandal at him would be too dramatic or way too soft.The moment we arrived at the villa, I understood why Max loved it here. The Romanov villa
