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CLXIV : small missiles and bigger hearts
Last Updated:
2025-04-12 17:51:39
Related chapters
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
Last Updated : 2025-04-13His Son, Her Secret Prologue
My steps feel light as I walk through the snowy streets of central Moscow. The cold wind bites my face, but I don't care. I've decided to take some time for myself today.Pascha Romanov, my fiancé, is, as usual, buried under a mountain of work. Even with our wedding day only a month away, it feels like I'm spending more time with his shadowy figure than his authentic self.As I turned the corner, my eyes fell on a magnificent church with golden domes rising into the grey sky.St. Sophia's Church.I was transfixed. Although I grew up in Bogota, Colombia, surrounded by old churches with stunning architecture, none were as beautiful as this one. Its dome reflected the gloomy light of the winter sun like the building had a light of its own."This is it," I muttered involuntarily.With my heart pounding, I imagined myself standing under the dome, wearing a white dress, with Pascha by my side. A smile was painted on my face.Would Pascha have time to see this place with me? Or, as usual, wo
Last Updated : 2024-12-11His Son, Her Secret I
Five years later.The screen in front of me flickered, red lines dotting what should have been smooth coding. I sighed heavily, loosened the buttons at the end of my sleeves, and then folded them quickly.In a room full of monitors, a small server buzzed in the corner, filling the silence with a monotonous rhythm."I don't know what's going on," I muttered, the frustrated tone clearly audible.My hands moved quickly over the keyboard, trying to track down the problem hidden among the thousands of lines of code.A voice from behind made me turn my head. "Come on, Belva, you're the team leader. You're the genius here."Ryan, one of the programmers on my team, stood at the door with a coffee cup in his hand. His smile was half playful, half challenging."I'm a genius, not a wizard," I retorted without looking at him again. My fingers continued typing, finding and fixing errors that seemed to appear out of nowhere."Well then, maybe it's time you learned magic," he replied with a chuckle.
Last Updated : 2024-12-11His Son, Her Secret II
Morning light seeps through the thin curtains in the living room. The smell of fresh coffee and toast filled the air, mixing with the sound of Max's laughter echoing in the kitchen. I sat at the small table with my laptop, typing fast to finish the report before the official work hours started.Max came running towards me, carrying a small backpack with his favourite superhero print. "Mommy, I'm ready!" he exclaims, his voice cheerful. His brown hair was a little messy, but his blue eyes sparkled with excitement.I smiled slightly, looking away from the screen. "Are you sure you didn't forget anything? Your hat, sunscreen, snacks, or lunch?"Max shook his head vigorously, swinging his backpack in the style of a hero about to save the world. "Om Ben said he'd bring everything!""And I never forget anything," Ben appeared in the kitchen doorway with two lunchboxes in his hands. His white shirt was neatly folded up to his elbows, and his usual easy smile graced his face. "Trust me, Siste
Last Updated : 2024-12-11His Son, Her Secret III
The ride to the party site felt like a scene from an all-too-real nightmare.Max sat in the back, humming his favourite song, oblivious to the tension that filled the air ahead. Ben drove calmly, occasionally glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.I was silent, looking out the window. The usually bustling streets of San Francisco felt empty, and my mind drifted away. I couldn't resist the call.I was very aware. Our family : The Moguel family is one of the most powerful in Latin America and the United States. Grandpa had me by the neck, and my neck would snap if I ignored his ultimatum.Max.Max was everything. Max was my life, and I wouldn't let anyone touch him.When we arrived at the large building with white marble pillars, my stomach felt like it was being churned. Guests dressed in luxurious outfits were seen entering gracefully. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses could be heard faintly in the distance."Are you ready?" asked Ben, turning his body to look at me afte
Last Updated : 2024-12-11His Son, Her Secret IV
The San Francisco night sky blanketed the building with a faint glow of stars. Classical music plays softly, accompanying formal conversation and laughter that is quieter than the afternoon party.The remaining guests were now exclusive circle heirs to business dynasties, investment partners, and a few figures who often graced the front pages of the world's economic magazines.I sat at one of the tables near the corner, feeling like a stranger despite being from the same family.Ben had brought Max home, just like I asked. I needed him away from all this intrigue. Without Max, I felt lighter but also a little bereft of the anchor that used to hold me together.Jullian Warren sat across from me, dressed in a dark grey suit that was too perfect to look like a window display. He spoke at length about the ambitious projects his family managed, his face full of confidence. But all I could think was how monotonous his voice sounded. Every word that came out of his mouth felt like a business
Last Updated : 2024-12-11His Son, Her Secret V
No.This cannot be.I backed away slowly, feeling the throbbing in my heart speed up.It felt like a crushing weight was pinning me down, pressing so hard on my chest that I could barely breathe—like being buried alive with no way out. The room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of his deep, even breaths, a sound that told me he was still fast asleep.But I can't calm down.I couldn't stay here.I took a deep breath, trying to quell the mounting panic. My body felt sticky, my hair was disheveled, and the dress I wore last night was no longer on me. I couldn’t stop trembling, my body betraying me as a rush of anxiety tangled with embarrassment crashed over me."Focus, Bell,"I pulled the blanket up to cover my body, stepping slowly to the side of the bed. The wooden floor beneath me was cold, and my every movement felt like a time bomb that could wake him up at any moment.I didn't dare look back, I didn't dare make sure he stayed asleep. All I could think about was one thing: getti
Last Updated : 2024-12-16His Son, Her Secret VI
At the dining table facing the glass wall, I sat with a cup of coffee in my hand, its bitter aroma piercing my sense of smell and slowly infiltrating my mind. "So, how was the party?" asked Ben, his black hair a mess, and the pajama shirt and shorts he was wearing showed how relaxed this morning was for him.I didn't turn around, just stared straight at my cup. "Nothing special,""Nothing special?" He pulled up a chair opposite me, his voice laced with skepticism. "That's not Grandpa's style. So, what's the latest political scheme he's devised for you, then?"I forced a smile. "He introduced me to Julian Warren.""Julian?" he gave a short laugh. "The eldest son of the Warrens? The guy who always looks like he's trying way too hard to be "cool"? That guy? What's the plan this time to organize a business wedding?"I gave him a flat look, doing my best to ignore the knot tightening in my chest. "You know Grandpa. He thinks Julian and I are perfect for... fortalecer la alianza familiar—li
Last Updated : 2024-12-16
Latest chapter
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
His Son, Her Secret CLXIII : oh great, you’re charming again
BelvaMorning slipped in through the gap in the curtains like an old friend who knew how to arrive without making a sound. Warm light crept across the edge of my bed, slowly trailing up the wall and brushing my fingertips.I opened my eyes without the weight in my chest. The bad memories were still there, sure, but like shadows, they came and went, swallowed by something warmer. Something calmer.Maybe I was just too tired. Maybe my body had finally surrendered to a peace I had been refusing.I got up, letting my feet touch the cool wooden floor. The sheets were still messy, a pillow had fallen to the ground. This morning felt... light. I grabbed a towel and walked to the bathroom. Hot water washed over my body, and for a few minutes, I just stood under the shower, letting it rinse away the traces of last night.Afterward, I slipped into a loose white t-shirt and comfortable linen pants, my hair still damp as I stepped out of the room. My pace was slow and lazy, but the moment I reac
His Son, Her Secret CLXII : a thief in borrowed time [Pascha]
Night had fallen hours ago, but Max had no real understanding of the concept of "bedtime."“I think,” he said, rolling over to his left for the hundredth time in his bed facing the villa balcony, “if I fall asleep now, I’ll miss the golden hours to plan my next secret mission.”I sat at the edge of his bed. “What time do you think it is right now?”“Eight fifty-nine!” he said, then raised his index finger like he was teaching me something very serious. “And do you know what great spies do at times like this, Daddy?”“Sleep?”“No!” he said, clearly offended. “They practice foreign languages and memorize secret codes!”I sighed and rubbed my temples. “Max…”“Teach me Russian, Daddy. Right now. Hurry. Say, ‘I am a super robot from the planet Bumbleberia.’”I frowned. “Bumbleberia’s not a real place.”“Then teach me how to say it in Russian so it can be!”This kid…I looked at his little face, so expressive. His hair was still damp from his bath, his cheeks flushed from the warm night air
His Son, Her Secret CLXI: The Stage Was Never Yours Alone
My phone buzzed, screen lighting up with a name that had become familiar, and still somehow made my heartbeat skip half a note: Pascha Romanov.I tapped the screen to accept the video call while Clara and Jullian were still deep in debate over whether dinosaur-shaped pancakes were superior to star-shaped waffles.The call connected, and Max’s face instantly filled the screen, his grin wide, hair a little messy, and behind him, Trisha, still wearing her straw hat, waved while chewing on something.“Mommyyyy!” he shouted. “Why is everyone here speaking Russian?! I don’t understand anything! I feel like… like an alien on Mars!”I let out a soft laugh, about to reply when—“MAX!” Jullian called out.Max’s eyes lit up. “You’re there too?!”Jullian leaned closer, sharing the screen with me. “Hey, partner,” he greeted warmly. “Looks like you’ve been busy socializing with the high society crowd.”Max nodded enthusiastically. “I almost got to drive the golf cart by myself! But Grandpa said I d
His Son, Her Secret CLX: I Bet You’d Look Good in a Rom-Com
Clara showed up just minutes after I sent the message. With slow steps and eyes barely open, she walked toward us dragging a gray blanket behind her like it was an oversized royal cape. Her hair was a mess, and her expression, well, like the world had woken her up five centuries too early.“I smell empanadas,” she mumbled without preamble, plopping down onto the sand with zero regard for grace.Jullian stifled a laugh and held out a plate. “I admire your lifestyle.”“I don’t remember who you are,” Clara answered with a huge yawn, grabbing an arepa and taking a bite like a zombie discovering its first victim. “But you make excellent life choices.”I shook my head and scooped a bite of arroz con pollo into my mouth. “Clara, you can’t keep napping like this every afternoon.”“Relax. I dreamt I was watching Max,” she shot back. “Technically, I’m still on duty.”Jullian chuckled, then glanced over at me. “Speaking of Max…”I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”“I keep thinking about that dinner we
His Son, Her Secret CLIX : Sunburns, Sass, and Someone Like You
The midday sky hung cloudless, a clean blue canvas yet to be written on. On the warm, breezy shore of San Francisco, I sat on a white canvas folding chair, my bare feet touching sand that still held the chill of morning. Beside me, a cold water bottle beaded with condensation and a gently vibrating phone, my only interruption in an otherwise peaceful silence I was beginning to savor.I picked up the phone and glanced at the screen.A message from Pascha.The first photo popped up with a soft notification sound. Max was in Trisha’s arms. Her long blonde hair was braided into two neat plaits, a straw hat tilted playfully on her head. Max looked half-squished, but happy, his cheek nearly disappearing behind Trisha’s oversized sunglasses.Second photo. Max was perched on Igor’s shoulders. Max was laughing, mouth wide open, arms thrown up in the air. He lifted him higher as they walked among the tall, leafy trees of Carmel.I smiled, letting a quiet warmth spread through my chest. Not beca
His Son, Her Secret CLVIII : Silence Too Loud
The front door opened with its usual sound, a bit creaky, a little heavy, but it never bothered anyone, because the person who always came through it never felt the need to knock first.Pascha Romanov walked right into my house, like always. As if it wasn’t mine. As if boundaries were a concept that didn’t apply to his stupid head. And the truth was, I never really figured out how high a wall I needed to keep him out.He was a storm that had grown used to passing through without asking permission.Max launched out of his chair like a mini rocket, leaving the last piece of his pancake behind without a second thought.“Daddyyyyyy!” he shouted, his little feet pounding across the floor as he crashed into Pascha with a tackle of hugs and breathless chatter. “Mommy was soooo annoying today! I just said I didn’t wanna take a bath and she went off like the news on TV!”Pascha chuckled softly, lifting Max into his arms without effort, “Oh yeah?” Pascha shot me a quick glance, half a smile pla
His Son, Her Secret CLVII : Summer Smells Like Pancakes and Salt [Present]
Morning came without mercy.The sun climbed slowly behind the thin curtains I’d forgotten to close correctly the night before. I was still in bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling that looked exactly the same as it did yesterday. The morning air drifted in through the cracked window, salty, laced with the scent of the sea.Usually, that smell calmed me. Today, it only made my chest feel heavier.I hadn’t slept. Or maybe I had—that didn’t feel real for a few minutes. My mind was still tangled in last night’s mess. My father’s cold stare, my mother’s too-sweet smile that barely passed for sincerity. Their words echoed like voices down a long, narrow hallway that led nowhere.I pushed the blanket aside and sat up, facing the tall glass window that stretched from floor to ceiling. From where I sat, I could see the shimmering silver line of San Francisco’s coast glowing in the early sun. The waves rolled in slowly, peacefully, unlike the noise in my head.“Mommyyyy!” His shout came from t
