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CLIV : Screaming, Laughing, Spinning Through the Rapids [Still Flashback]
Last Updated:
2025-04-05 15:14:08
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His Son, Her Secret CLV : We Were Wild, We Were Gold [Still Flashback]
The sky stretched endlessly above us, scattered with stars like careless handfuls of diamonds. A crescent moon bathed the small wooden cabin in a soft, silvery light.We lay sprawled out on a thick rug spread across the front yard. It was plush, coarse to the touch but warm, woven in bold tribal patterns that burst with color. Igor, somehow still looking fresh despite a full day of extreme activity, sat with his back against a tall pine tree, methodically sharpening his knife.Trisha was flat on her back, limbs splayed like a starfish, her breathing deep and heavy. Pascha sat cross-legged behind me, his hands kneading into my shoulders with just enough pressure to make me wince and enjoy it at the same time.“Your poor tiny body,” Pascha teased, his fingers loosening the tight knots in my shoulders.I let out a long sigh and tilted my head, glancing back at him from the corner of my eye. “Not that tiny.”He chuckled, letting his fingers slide lower to the muscles beneath my shoulder b
Last Updated : 2025-04-06His Son, Her Secret CLVI : Chaotic Good & Crystal Chandeliers [Still Flashback]
That afternoon, the Moscow sun poured through the tall windows of the Romanov family room. Light danced across the marble floors and reflected softly off the polished table, making the whole space look like a living painting—elegant, expensive, and loud.I sat at the end of a long sofa, holding a warm cup of tea. Its scent blended with the lavender from a vase on the coffee table. My hair was still damp from a long shower after our trip back from Siberia, and my legs ached just a little. But I barely noticed—too absorbed by the scene playing out in front of me.“—You dragged us all the way to Siberia, and now I’m sneezing every five minutes!” Trisha flung a pillow at Igor, who barely flinched as he blocked it with his elbow.“You’re sneezing not because of Siberia, but because you refused to wear a jacket,” Igor replied flatly, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.“I couldn’t wear that army green thing you call a jacket! It’s an insult to my entire aesthetic!” Trisha
Last Updated : 2025-04-06His 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-07His 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-08His 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-09His 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-10His 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-10His 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-10
Latest chapter
His Son, Her Secret CXI : Whispers of the Past
I came down the stairs at seven a.m., my steps slow on the oak wood that felt too expensive—and far too quiet—for the storm inside my chest. The sound of waves drifted in from afar through a slightly cracked window, filling the air with sea salt and cool mist. Morning light slipped softly into the living room, brushing over thick rugs and cream velvet couches that looked like they belonged in an architecture magazine.The Romanov villa in Carmel… was too perfect.Too still.And for the first time since last night, I was thankful for that.No heavy footsteps on the floor.No clinking glasses.No low voice saying my name in that way that short-circuited my entire nervous system.No Pascha.I let out a quiet sigh—half relief, half disbelief. I wasn’t ready this morning. Not for his stare. Too honest. Too lit. Too full of history.I made my way to the kitchen. The interior looked like something out of another world—gray marble counters veined with white like paintings, dark wood cabinets
His Son, Her Secret CXC : Warmth, Ruin & Tart Guardian
His embrace felt like the world I almost left behind—warm, stubborn, and heavy with the shadows of our past.But I couldn’t breathe.Not because he was holding me too tightly, but because my mind was too full. Too loud. Too much to process all at once.I pressed my hand gently against his chest. One small push. Then another, firmer.Pascha let go slowly, but his gray eyes stayed locked on me like he was afraid I’d vanish if he blinked.I took two steps back, holding in a breath that burned like embers in my chest.“I need some time alone,” I said softly.Pascha frowned but didn’t speak.“Another room. In this villa. I know this place is huge—too huge. You can sleep wherever you want. But I need space. I need… somewhere that isn’t you.”My voice nearly cracked, but I forced it to hold.He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at me, and I could see something stirring inside him. Not anger. Not guilt.But love—raw and unsure of what shape to take in a moment like this.Then he steppe
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXIX : the page i didn’t read
I fell silent.The only sound was the faucet still running, water hitting the metal sink like a downpour in the middle of silence.That sentence echoed in my head."You're my wife, Bee."I blinked.Once.Twice.Then the world started to spin.Not the usual kind of dizziness, not a migraine from lack of sleep or too much caffeine. This was... like my logic was twisted, crushed, and thrown off the highest cliff without warning.My heart started pounding—not from emotion, but because my brain couldn’t process something this big… this absurd… this Pascha.I took a step back.Then another.My hand reached for the cold edge of the kitchen counter, gripping it just to stay upright.“What... did you just say?” I whispered, even though I’d heard him. Too clearly.He just looked at me, eyes steady, shoulders still slightly leaning forward like a man who just dropped a bomb in the middle of a city and was waiting to see if there’d be an explosion.I laughed.It was dry. Empty. The laugh of someo
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXVIII : What Remains of Us
The cold air hit my skin like a slap of reality.I stared at my reflection in the villa’s bathroom mirror—cream marble walls too smooth to be real, warm lighting that made my swollen eyes look softer, and a wide sink with a bottle of liquid soap that probably cost more than my shoes.But my face... was still the same.Tired eyes. Cracked lips. Unsteady breath.I wiped my cheek with a white towel—clean, lavender-scented—then looked at myself again.“This is the end,” I said quietly.My own voice sounded unfamiliar. But steady.“It has to end. Tonight.”I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling the front pieces back and tying them at the back of my head with a small band I found in my bag. The rest of my short hair fell around my neck—light, out of the way. Practical. Sharp. Just like my intention for tonight.I looked down at my wrinkled sweater—sage green, a color I used to love, now feeling like a burden. My jeans itched too, dusty from the car ride and too much heat from earlier ang
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXVII : how dare the sun still set
“I hate you.”That was the first thing I said after the car crossed the gate and turned onto the main road. My voice cracked. My breathing was still uneven. One hand clutched the seatbelt, the other trembled in my lap.“You think this is funny? Bringing her into your house? Around Max?!”Pascha stayed silent. His left hand rested calmly on the wheel, the right on the gearshift. His eyes were locked on the road like there wasn’t a storm sitting right next to him.“You really don’t realize what a bastard you are, do you?”Still no response.“You’re insane. You’re.....you’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met! You showed up at my house bleeding, crawled into my bed. MY BED, and the next day you brought her to your house?!”Still nothing. The car kept rolling forward, eating up pavement in a steady rhythm.“And you let Max laugh with her? Sit next to her? What.....what’s next, he calls her ‘Mommy’? Is that it? That your plan? To replace me? Hand her the title?”No answer.I turned to h
His Son, Her Secret CLX : Mirrorball Shattered Mid-Spin
The car hadn’t even come to a full stop in the carport when I opened the door."Bell—"I heard Kyara’s voice from behind me, but I didn’t look back. My steps were fast. Hot. Loud.Every heel strike against the stone path between my house and Pascha’s mansion felt like a tiny hammer, fueling my anger higher and higher. I knew he was there. I knew Max was there. And I knew that snake of a woman was there too, sitting pretty in the living room, playing a role so well even the devil would applaud her performance.Aurora was close behind me, her steps quick but cautious. I could feel her breath. Short and startled. But nothing could stop me now.The mansion door opened. Clara stood in the doorway, her expression confused and wary when she saw me. But I didn’t stop.“Where’s Max?” I asked flatly.“In the back room… playing with synthetic sand and Mischa,” Clara whispered.I didn’t say anything else. No need. I walked inside.And there she was.Her.Mikaela.Sitting on Pascha’s way-too-soft,
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXV : I Saw Red
I tapped the green button on my phone and held it to my ear.Three rings.Four.No answer.I frowned, pulled the phone away, and stared at the name on the screen: Ben (my favorite idiot twin). I called again.Ringing.Still no answer. No message.He usually lets me know if there’s a change of plans. Even when he's stuck in a board meeting in L.A., he still manages to send me a photo of a whiteboard covered in scribbles with a caption like, “Does anyone understand this? 'Cause I don't.”But now?Silence.I sighed, slipped the phone into my bag, and pushed the office door open with my shoulder. My actual office—not Romanov International. I’d had enough of Russians playing dress-up as CEOs.This office lobby was nothing fancy. Modern, but human. No marble, no echoing high heels that felt like judgment. Just the smell of fresh coffee, soft lighting, and polite smiles from Ellie the receptionist who talked way too much about her cats.“Good morning, Ms. Belva,” Ellie greeted.I gave a quic
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXIV : hit the pedal, heavy metal, show me your cares [Pascha]
The digital clock beside the bed read 4:12 AM.I opened my eyes slowly, and for a moment, the world felt still.Moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting soft lines across the wooden floor and the white bedsheet I was lying on. The sheet Belva said she’d just washed yesterday.I turned my head slightly, feeling the dull throb in my left shoulder.And I just... smiled a little.Still fresh in my memory: her panicked voice, her trembling hands, her frustrated muttering while cleaning up my blood last night. Belva in her panic-anger mode was honestly one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.I reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up, too bright at first. I opened the messaging app and typed quickly to Jacob.Pascha: Clean my wound again later.Barely two seconds and it showed a blue check.Then I switched to another contact and hit call without hesitation.Ronan.The dial tone rang.Once. Twice.“I swear on my wife and my dog, if this isn’t an emergen
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXIII : Dying, But Still Hot [Pascha]
The pain came in lazy pulses.Not the kind that made you scream or tear up a pillow, but more like a harsh whisper gnawing at the edges of your consciousness.I sat on a black leather chair in the back room of the mansion, my shirt torn, blood dripping onto the kind of expensive floor that would probably make my company accountant faint if he knew how much the carpet cost.Jacob was kneeling beside me, face tight, gloved hands steady, eyes filled with his usual annoyance. Christian stood in the corner, holding a basin of water and a clean towel, looking like he’d just seen a zombie walk into the living room.“Holy shit…” Christian muttered in panic, eyes wide. “Boss, we have to go to a hospital! This is serious! This is insane! This is—”I lazily raised an eyebrow. “If you can’t shut up, Christian, I’ll have Jacob stitch your mouth closed before he does my shoulder.”Christian froze. Literally.Jacob snorted, lifting a shiny pair of tweezers into the air, inspecting them under the des
