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CLX: I Bet You’d Look Good in a Rom-Com
Last Updated:
2025-04-10 20:08:08
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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
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 : 2025-04-10His 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-12His 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 2025-04-16
Latest chapter
His Son, Her Secret CXCII : Veni, Vidi, Amavi .... I Let the Sea Keep Mine
My body tensed. I squirmed out of his embrace. The sand scraped against my palms as I pushed myself up to sit straight. I turned to look at Pascha."Can you just... not do that?"He stared at me for a moment, blankly.I went on. “That line you just said… God, seriously, it was so cheesy.”Pascha tilted his head , his eyes narrowing. And before I could add anything to emphasize the disgust still crawling down my spine, he laughed, irritating one.“Oh, come on,” he said, playfuly. “I thought it was kinda romantic.”I let out a long breath and edged a bit farther away, brushing sand off my arm. “Romantic?” I scoffed. “That sounded like a soap opera line Clara would obsess over.”Pascha shrugged. “Still, you heard it.”“I heard it because you whispered it right into my ear!” I snapped, whipping my head toward him. “It was....it was creepy, Pascha. Creepy and corny and... I don’t know. But gross!”He laughed again.. “I forgot,” he murmured. “You’re allergic to anything sweet.”Before I cou
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
