I sit beside my uncle on the leather sofa in my office while my boys stand behind us with the stance of rookie soldiers.
Or Bran does. Lan has been exuding the type of destructive energy that gets people killed.
All four of us are staring at the person who’s sitting in the chair across from us. Despite having a plaster cast covering his right arm, he still looks nonchalantly presentable in dark trousers and a button-down.
His hair is styled, his expression resembles a wise monk’s, and he has all the indications to pass as a respectable human.
But I know better.
I never thought there would be a day when I’d be talking to the guy who’s sleeping with my daughter.
Scratch that, I’ve thought of it ever since Astrid and I learned we were expecting a baby girl, and the image always, without doubt, blurred my vision.
Is it too late to ask some witch to take us back in time so my daughter can remain forever young? Because I’m having a hard time coming to terms with this.
Uncle’s state is even worse, but his expression is more in the calculative range. Apparently, he meant it when he suggested beating this fucker to shreds and sending him back to the States with a one-way ticket.
An option I’m not entirely opposed to as it’d mean I’d get rid of the guy Glyndon so brazenly introduced to us with, “Mum, Dad, meet my boyfriend, Killian.”
Yes, she’s had boyfriends before but didn’t feel the need to bring them home. Also, I knew they kept their distance because Lan made sure of it. Apparently, he can’t with this Killian.
“Levi,” Uncle speaks to me without breaking eye contact with Killian. “Don’t you think this chap is shameless enough to show his face in your house after he broke Glyndon’s heart?”
“Indeed, Uncle. He could’ve stayed away and avoided us, but he apparently thought paying us a visit was the right thing to do.”
“Who’s going to tell him that his parents might not recognize him when we’re done with him?”
“Let’s not beat him too much, Uncle. You’re acquainted with his father, after all.” I let my eyes fall on Killian, who’s been following the entire conversation with the same blank expression. “Tell you what, kid. If you break up with Glyndon, and she knows it’s all your doing, we’ll spare you the torture.”
“With all due respect, sir, those threats don’t work on me,” the little shit says with a small smile. “You should ask Landon here. He tried worse and failed.”
“I didn’t fail if I haven’t stopped trying,” Landon says. “And you should listen to Dad because he’s offering you the easy way out.”
“I most definitely am,” I say. “Uncle, under different circumstances, how do we deal with someone who thinks he can be with my daughter after he broke her heart?”
“Correction.” Killian raises a brow. “I didn’t break her heart. She thought I did after seeing a clip from a cut video in which I told a fake friend of hers that he could drop dead. What she didn’t see is the rest of the footage where he asked me what would I tell him if he wanted to die. And afterward, when he laughed and said maybe he’d take someone with him. That someone was Glyndon, by the way. He wanted to drive himself with her off the cliff, but she escaped at the last minute. Due to his actions, she felt horrible for months, thinking she failed him when he needed her the most and that was why he committed suicide. As I’m sure Landon and Brandon told you, he didn’t die, but he’s currently wishing for death.”
I raise an eyebrow at the sure, assertive way he speaks. It’s a startling, absolutely appalling reminder of how my cousin was when he was around this fucker’s age.
Uncle must’ve made the connection, too, because his lips tighten in a line. “Landon tells me you have a history of violence, boy.”
“And so does he, but you don’t see me airing his dirty laundry for everyone to see. If I must say, it doesn’t look good on you, Landon.”
I can feel the tension radiating from my eldest son, but Bran pats his shoulder—or maybe grabs it in an attempt to stop him from going off like a bullet.
Among the four of us, Bran is definitely the only one who’s on the little shit’s side.
“Glyndon already chose him, Dad, and he makes her happy, so maybe you shouldn’t intervene,” is what he told me earlier.
Like fuck I won’t intervene.
The more I talk to him, the less I like him.
I simply did not raise my only daughter all these years to eventually hand her over to this sod.
“Look, I understand your reservations about me,” he continues in a serious tone. “But my use of violence was in my teens when my impulse control needed more work. Now, the only violence I indulge in is when I have to protect Glyndon. It is never directed at her or her friends and family.”
“Those are some pretty words,” Uncle says.
“I mean every one of them and I promise that I’ll keep her safe with my life.”
“That’s if you don’t accidentally lose your life in the meantime,” Landon mutters.
“Now, Landon.” I try to sound stern. “No threatening in front of outsiders. It could be used against you later.”
Killian merely smiles as if he didn’t hear the last bits of dialogue. “Glyndon said it’d be difficult for you to accept me, but I’m willing to try to get your approval for her sake—minus you, Landon. I don’t give a fuck about your opinion. Mr. and Mr. King, I respect you for bringing Glyndon up all these years. In fact, I tip my hat to you for protecting her during the time I wasn’t in her life, but know this—you’ll never be able to take her away from me. You can break my legs and arms, but I can still crawl toward her.”
“So you’re telling us that you’re not backing away from my daughter?”
“Not even close, not even a little.”
“Very well.” Uncle stands. “I’ll keep an eye on you, boy. Make that eyes, plural, and if I find out that you’ve hurt my princess in any way, I’ll make sure you never breathe properly again.”
“Here’s a piece of advice, Killian—the only one I’ll offer you. If you do cause pain to my daughter, you might want to voluntarily disappear, because I’ll kill you when I find you.”
“Please do. You have permission to do whatever you wish if I do cross a line, but you are not permitted to intervene or sabotage our relationship.”
“Are you threatening us?” I ask.
“Of course not.” He smiles in that annoying way. “I’m just relaying a piece of information.”
Uncle stares at him, then walks out, and I follow after, leaving my sons with the vermin.
As we step out, I can hear Killian and Landon exchanging passive-aggressive remarks while Brandon tries to cool off the atmosphere.
“I need you to watch that boy closely, Levi,” Uncle says once we’re down the hall.
“You don’t have to tell me. What are the chances of Glyndon actually leaving the bastard?”
“Zero. She said she’s in love with him and that he makes her a better, more courageous person.”
The little fucking shit.
“As if that isn’t enough, Aurora already likes him and says I’m being too overprotective.”
“Nonsense. There’s no such thing when it comes to Glyndon.”
“That’s what I said.”
“If it’s of any consolation, Astrid has been running a campaign in his favor for weeks now. She even warned me not to be difficult or talk to him as if he’s a criminal. Doesn’t she know that I won’t hand my daughter over without some hard shaking?”
“We are not handing her over. We’re observing his actions for now.”
“Maybe they’ll break up in a few months and we’ll be done with this whole charade.”
Uncle releases a sigh. “I wouldn’t be so hopeful if I were you. They’re both in too deep. Just because you refuse to see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
I curse beneath my breath as we reach the dining room. Aurora, who was overlooking the staff in setting the table, smiles upon seeing us and leaves them to it.
“So?” She watches us. “Have you tortured the poor boy enough?”
“The bad news is that it’s impossible to torture him,” Uncle says. “The good news is that we know his weakness is Glyndon.”
“Oh, Jonathan.” She links her arm with his. “Let them be. Young love is so beautiful.”
Uncle and I share a look because, holy fuck, that’s almost the same thing Astrid said earlier.
Speaking of my wife, I leave Uncle and Aurora and head to her favorite place, after our bed.
Sure enough, when I open the door to her art studio, I find her standing in the middle of it with Glyndon.
I’m used to being unnoticeable when I come here, so I don’t interrupt her creative time. Sometimes, I watch her for hours, just to see her in focus mode. Other times, I feel like she needs a break and serve as a distraction. Those occasions often end up with me fucking her in the midst of her brushes and palettes, and usually results in us looking like a mess.
It’s been almost three decades since I met this woman and I still feel that rush of blood to my head—and my cock—whenever I look at her.
It doesn’t matter how old we grow, she’s still the woman who tames my wild side, brings light to my darkness and peace to my days.
She’s still the freest spirit I’ve ever seen.
Right now, she’s clutching Glyn by the shoulder as they stare at a chaotic black-and-red painting on the wall.
I say chaotic because I’m artistically illiterate, as Astrid and our sons like to tell me. It’s only Glyn who says, “It’s okay, Dad, you don’t have to understand art to feel it.”
Because she’s special, my little Glyndon. Compassionate to a fault, too. Like her mother.
Only she’s not little anymore and she’s bringing a headstrong boyfriend home that I get irritated about whenever he comes to mind.
“Why didn’t you show me this before?” Astrid asks her, a soft frown etched between her brows.
Glyndon slides her palm down her shorts. When they’re standing side by side, they look so similar and yet so different. They’re the same height, have the same eyes, but everything else sets them apart.
My wife has mature beauty, the type that’s honed by years of being a badass businesswoman, artist, wife, and most importantly, mother.
I would’ve never been able to be a good father if she wasn’t the mother of my children. She understands the difference between the three of them and does her best not to squash it.
She never dressed Landon and Brandon in the same clothes. Not even once.
And when people told her they’d look cute in similar clothes, she said that she wasn’t ready to sacrifice their sense of identity just so everyone would think they were cute.
“I guess I didn’t think it was good enough,” Glyn says. “Bran wasn’t supposed to show you this.”
“He didn’t. I actually snuck into your art studio. I know, I know. I shouldn’t have, but you haven’t shown me anything for almost a year.” She tightens her fingers on our daughter’s shoulder. “And this isn’t only good enough, it’s an emotive masterpiece. The first time I saw it, I had tears in my eyes from the flow of emotions.”
“R-really?”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“Thanks.” Her voice shakes. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Not everyone is going to like what you put out and that’s okay, Glyn. Just tune out other people’s opinions and only focus on your art. That’s if you still want to continue down this path.”
“Of course, I do.”
“You always expressed yourself the best with a brush in hand and a wicked grin on your lips.”
Glyn chuckles, then hugs her mother. “Thanks, Mum, really. For everything.”
Astrid pats her back with a loving expression on her face. “Does that mean you’ll show me your creations from now on?”
“I will.”
“Good. Now, tell me what you were thinking about when you did this one?”
Glyn smiles sheepishly. “A beautiful nightmare.”
“I like that.”
“Me, too.”
“Also, I spoke to Professor Skies since Landon told me he’s giving you a hard time.”
“Lan did?”
“Yeah,” Astrid says slowly. “But the weird thing is, Professor Skies said he already got a visit from some masked man who threatened him that if he continues to bother you, he better start counting his days. Be honest with me. Do you think that was Lan?”
Glyn releases a breath and shakes her head. “And here I was wondering why he suddenly changed his attitude toward me. He even praised my painting in front of the whole class, which is something he’s never done before. Now I know it’s all because of the threat, and no, Mum, I don’t think it was Lan.”
“Oh, okay. If your oldest brother causes any trouble, you’ll let me know, right?”
“No, Mum, I’m sorry, but I won’t. And neither will Bran, actually. Lan is a big boy. He can handle himself without you monitoring him.”
“Glyndon! Where did you learn the habit of talking back?”
“I just…feel better when I say everything out loud instead of burying it inside.”
My wife smiles. “Well, it’s about time. I’m proud of you, baby. And I’m so happy you found someone who understands and loves you the way you are.”
A faint blush covers her cheeks. “You think Killian loves me?”
“Loves you? No, it’s more than that. He looks like he’s ready to wreak havoc for you, and believe me when I say that type of love is rare to find.”
“You think?”
“I’m sure.”
“That would be one of us.” I choose this moment to stroll inside and then wrap a hand around my wife’s waist.
She fits perfectly in my arms. This woman was made for me and I refuse to think otherwise.
“Dad.” Glyn sulks. “Why would you say that?”
“Because he’s a little psycho, that’s why. Imagine what he’ll become when he grows up.”
“Aiden?” Astrid asks with a mischievous smile. “You still love him.”
“Tolerate him, not love him, princess.”
“Oh, please. You’ve been overprotective of Aiden since you were kids. Either way, Aiden is the type of man who puts his family above the world, so don’t be judgmental.”
“Yeah, Dad, don’t be judgmental.”
“We’re playing two on one now, are we?”
“Well, you put yourself in this position,” Astrid tells me, shamelessly taking our daughter’s side.
“Still love you, Dad.” Glyn pecks my cheek, then grins. “I’ll get going before you start kissing.”
Her laugh echoes in the air as she leaves the studio.
My wife slides her hand up my ribs and to my chest, a glimmering light shining in her eyes. “Are we going to start kissing, my king?”
It only takes a few strokes from her to transform me into a raging volcano. “Not sure. You just took that fucker Killian’s side over mine.”
“Because you’re being unreasonable and you know it. He brought our daughter back from the edge and that alone makes me forever thankful.” Her hand travels to my cheek, her voice softening when she says, “Are you really not going to kiss me?”
“I’d never say no to you, princess.” I’d lose to her over and over if I have to.
My fingers lift her chin and my mouth meets hers. I kiss her with gratefulness, love, and the absolute need to have her in my life.
She is my life.
My wife.
The mother of my children.
Mine.
Levi: I just lost my daughter.
Xander: Please tell me that’s figurative and Glyn is actually okay?
Levi: If by okay, you mean breathing, then sure, she’s okay. But she brought home a boy and said the dreaded words of “I love him.”
Aiden: Surely you knew she’d do this eventually? She’s fucking nineteen, Lev, not nine.
Levi: Says the one who only has sons. You don’t understand, so how about you kindly fuck off?
Aiden: What’s so wrong with having sons? Don’t be jealous.
Ronan: Agreed. Sons are the shit. Also, I’m on pins and needles for when Remi will introduce his special someone to us.
Cole: From what I gather, there will be special someones. I wonder where he got that womanizing tendency from.
Ronan: Fuck you, Nash. My son is living his life as a healthy uni student and I won’t allow anyone to shame him.
Xander: My condolences about Glyn, Captain. It’s my worst nightmare to imagine some fucker taking away my Cecily.
Aiden: Hello? They’re old enough to be independent, so can we normalize letting them live their lives?
Cole: Except for my Ariella. She’s only sixteen. My Ava is off-limits, too. Do you hear that, Aiden? Let Eli know.
Aiden: You’re so delusional to think you can stop Eli from doing anything. Even I can’t dictate his actions anymore.
Cole: We’ll see about that. Don’t blame me for the violence that will happen when he comes near my daughter.
Ronan: Let me bring the popcorn.
Cole: You, too, Ron. Keep your son far away from my Ari.
Ronan: I should be the one to say that, fucker. She’s like a little hellion stalker. Jesus, I’m scared for Remi’s life.
Levi: You can brush me off all you like, but I’ll be the one laughing when you’re the ones who lose your kids.
