242. STRATEGIC RELAXING

242. STRATEGIC RELAXING
But something was different about him.
He was too perfect, standing too straight, every button fastened, his expression too stoic, like a statue carved to hide fractures.
Layla leaned closer, catching the faint scent of liquor under his usual sharp cologne. Her brows arched.
“Are you drunk, Leon?”
Zaley’s eyes widened, startled by the name, before his body gave up and slumped against the couch.
“I had to,” he muttered, voice lower than usual.
Her breath caught. In the eleven years she had known him, she had never seen him like this. Drunk, but pretending not to be. As if control was something he couldn’t quite abandon, even now.
She sat beside him, gently brushing back the dark strands of hair that fell across his forehead.
“You don’t have to sue them all,” she whispered.
For once, he nodded, and for a fleeting second, she thought he agreed.
“Yes,” he slurred. “I have to kill them all. Those uneducated, useless imbeciles. How dare they talk about my girls? I’m gonna fucking dispose of their bodies.”
Layla froze.
He shook his head then, turning to look at her. And there it was—the smile. Something less than evil, yet far worse than comforting. A smile that belonged to someone who thought of violence the way others thought of chores.
“Don’t take me wrong, baby. You know I don’t kill people. I’m a very good person.”
Her lips parted, but no words came. Because he sounded exactly like Lilly when she lied about not stealing candy.
“I’ll just throw them on an abandoned island,” Zaley went on, as if brainstorming out loud. “Like I did with Luca.”
Then, with the oddest sigh of weariness, he added,
“I wish my Little Lilly’s wish comes true and dinosaurs exist. Then I’ll feed these monster people to them.”
“You are not killing anyone, not suing anyone, Leon. Let’s go to bed.”
Layla took his arm to pull him up.
But he folded his arms stubbornly across his chest, glaring at nothing in particular like a sulking child.
“That’s what Kirill said.”
Her brows furrowed. “What exactly did Kirill say?”
“That I can’t kill citizens.” Zaley scoffed, shaking his head. “Common people. As if common people talk like that. No common person would dare make comments like that.”
Layla exhaled slowly, dropping back onto the couch beside him. “It’s not a big deal, Leon. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
But he shook his head again, already digging his phone out of his pocket. “I’m gonna fire him.”
“You fire him ten times a day,” she reminded softly.
“This time I mean it.” He pressed his phone to his ear, waiting a second before growling, “That bastard didn’t even pick up. Whines about working hours while he’s driving around in a sports car.”
Layla just watched as he muttered to himself, and then just as abruptly, he looked at her, his whole face shifting, softening. He smiled, pulled her into his arms, and held her tight.
“I miss you,” he whispered for the second time that night.
Sighing and smiling despite herself, she curled her arms around him. “You saw me in the afternoon.”
He buried his face against her neck, lips brushing over her skin in lazy, drunken kisses. “But our girls are so needy. They won’t let me spend time with their mother. Tell them. I came first. You are mine.”
Layla laughed softly at his childish demand. “Luna called me mine today.”
He froze. Then pulled back abruptly, eyes widening like she had just struck a nerve. His voice turned sharp, desperate.
“I came first. You are mine. No one else’s. Just mine. Stay mine.”
The intensity in his gaze pinned her in place, his words breaking through the haze of liquor, raw and too honest.
“I have known you since you were thirteen. They don’t.”
Layla blinked at him, startled by the force in his words. His eyes burned with a clarity that didn’t match the slur in his voice.
“Leon…” she whispered carefully.
But he only tightened his hold on her waist, dragging her down with him until she was half-toppled against his chest. “Don’t Leon me. Don’t soften it. You are mine. Don’t laugh when Luna says it. Don’t—” He hiccupped. “Don’t let her win.”
Layla bit her lip to stop her laughter. Zaley, the man who terrified businessmen with a glance, was sulking because his toddler claimed her. “She’s a baby, not a rival,” she teased gently.
His scowl deepened. “Babies grow.”
Layla gave up and laughed outright, brushing her fingers through his dark hair. “You’re impossible when you’re drunk.”
He tilted his head, offended. “I am not drunk. I am—” He squinted at the ceiling as if searching for the word. “Strategically relaxed.”
She burst into laughter again, and he groaned, burying his face in her neck like he could hide there. “Stop laughing at me. Do you know what’s funny? You’re mine, and you think you can laugh at me.” His muffled voice grew softer. “Actually, you can. But don't laugh at me when I say you are mine."
She raised her hands in surrender, "Fine, I won't laugh. Let's go to bed."
He tapped the place beside him. "No bed today."
She blinked down at him. “Why?”
He tugged her closer until she was practically sitting on him, arms locking around her like iron. “We’re sleeping here on this couch. The bed is too big. You… you roll away. You run away even in your dreams. Here,” He squeezed tighter. “Here you can’t. You’ll stay.”
Layla shook her head, amused and touched all at once. “Leon, this couch is too small. We’ll both wake up sore.”
“Don't worry,” he muttered, already sliding lower, dragging her with him like a child pulling a stuffed toy to sleep. “You sleep on me. You won't get hurt. I won't let you.” Then he chuckled. "No more cuddles with mama today."
Her heart squeezed. He was ridiculous, stubborn, needy, and so heartbreakingly sincere. She brushed her lips against his temple. “You’re jealous of your daughters,” she whispered fondly.
“I am,” he admitted without shame, eyelids drooping. “They steal you, always in your lap. But you’re mine first.”
She stroked his cheek, warmth spreading through her chest. He was heavy and warm against her, already drifting into sleep, clinging like she was his only anchor.
“Fine,” she whispered, tucking the blanket over them both as best as she could on the cramped couch. “I’m yours.”
He smiled, drowsy but triumphant, his breath fanning over her skin. “Say it again,” he mumbled.
But he frowned again. "Did my girls go to sleep? Did they eat? Let me check upon them."
Layla smiled, snuggling close to him. "They are fine. And I am yours."
“Forever,” he slurred before finally succumbing to sleep, arms locked so tightly around her that she knew there’d be no escape until morning.
Layla sighed, her heart fluttering in her chest as she kissed his hair. “Forever,” she promised softly.
And even though the couch was uncomfortable, and his grip too tight, she fell asleep smiling, because sometimes, being claimed by him felt like the safest place in the world.

Lilly woke up early in the morning, yawning wide and stretching her little arms like a cat. Still half-sleepy, she reached for her small Hulk toy and climbed down from the bed.
She thought Luna was still fast asleep on the lower bunk, but the moment Lilly tiptoed out of the room, Luna slipped out too, padding behind her.
Lilly turned, frowning. “Why are you following me, Luna? You should have slept. I go to Mommy and cuddle every morning. That’s my habit.”
Luna blinked at her with wide eyes, pressing a chubby palm against her chest.
“Wuh-na thu kudhle.”
“You want to cuddle too?” Lilly asked, tilting her head at the two-year-old.
Luna nodded eagerly, curls bouncing.
“Fine then,” Lilly sighed, acting like she was making a big sacrifice. “The bed is big enough for all of us. Let’s go.”
But when she was about to march towards their parents’ bedroom, Luna tugged at her frock and pointed towards the living room.
There, through the spill of golden sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows, they saw their parents fast asleep on the couch. Zaley and Layla were tangled together, completely wrapped around one another like they’d never let go.
Lilly’s eyes widened. “Oh…”
“Bwanket,” Luna whispered, pointing at them.
“Good idea. Let’s go grab one.”
Between much dragging and stumbling, they managed to cover their parents with a blanket. Luna, determined, was still trying to tug it down to cover their legs when Lilly caught her hand.
“Let’s go from here,” she whispered like it was a secret mission.
“Why?” Luna blinked.
Lilly put a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Let’s not wake them up. Be silent.”
Once back in their room, Lilly started pacing, hands folded behind her back, chin tilted like a strict little schoolteacher.
“You know,” she began solemnly, “adults hate to wake up early. But we are different. You are a kid, and I am a big girl. We can wake up early. That’s our superpower.”
Luna blinked at her, half-understanding, but nodded anyway.
Lilly pointed dramatically to the glass window where the sun was spilling gold into their room. “This is golden hour. Mommy and Daddy are sleeping. Which means… we have the house to ourselves.” Her grin spread wide. “We can do so much now.”
Luna’s mouth made a little ‘o’ of wonder before she clapped her tiny hands in delight.
“Now, first thing we do…” Lilly announced like a commander, “…is brushing. I know it’s boring. But if we don’t brush, we can’t get the job done. Let’s go.”
Luna groaned softly, dragging her feet, but followed anyway, Lilly's hand clasped tightly in hers.
Lilly rummaged through her little drawer and triumphantly pulled out two pairs of toy spectacles, one pink, one blue and two of her mom’s scarves.
“We are going undercover now,” she declared with great importance. She tied the scarf around her own head like a turban and slipped the pink spectacles onto her nose. “See? Like this.”
Luna blinked, clutching her scarf with both hands, not quite sure what to do.
Lilly sighed heavily, like a teacher with a hopeless student, and marched over. “No, no, no. Not like that. Let me do it.” She wound the scarf around Luna’s head, a bit crooked, and popped the blue spectacles onto her face.
“There. Now we look… professional.” She stepped back, nodding proudly.
In reality, they looked nothing like undercover agents, more like two clowns who had raided the dress-up box, but to Lilly, the transformation was flawless.
“This is what they do on TV when they go undercover,” Lilly explained with authority. “Except they wear full black. But that’s stupid. If you wear black, you’ll stand out. That’s why we need colours in our life.”
Luna bobbed her head seriously, as though she understood every word.
With that, they tiptoed out, Lilly clutching an empty bag like it was mission gear. Their tiny feet padded across the floor until they reached the kitchen.
“Phase two,” Lilly whispered. “We need snacks.”
They raided the shelves with great seriousness, filling the bag with candies, cookies, a few fruits (Lilly picked them out automatically, repeating her mother’s voice in her head: something healthy too), and anything else that looked even remotely delicious.
The bag was soon so stuffed that Luna had to help hold it up.
“Now…” Lilly straightened, adjusting her crooked scarf and glasses. Her voice dropped low and dramatic. “We go to Daddy’s office.”
Luna’s eyes went wide, as if Lilly had just announced they were breaking into a castle.
She whispered back, almost in awe: “Daddy offish.”
The two agents, Agent Lilly in pink spectacles and Agent Luna in blue, marched through the silent penthouse like they owned the place. Their bag of stolen snacks bumped against their legs as they pushed open the door to Zaley’s office.
It was a grand, intimidating room, with floor-to-ceiling shelves, a massive desk, leather chairs, and the faint smell of ink and cedar.
Lilly plopped herself onto Zaley’s chair, spinning around once with a triumphant grin.
“See? This is the Boss Chair. Daddy used to sit here all day making serious faces.”
Luna giggled, clapping her hands. “Bozz chair!”
Agent Lilly pulled a stack of papers closer, squinting at them like a true detective. She flipped one, then another, and let out a dramatic sigh.
“Like Daddy said,” she muttered, shaking her head, “these are boring papers. Not even one treasure map! Actually, there was one. But all the adults lie to me. We did a lot of planning, but never went to find the treasure.”
Luna pouted.
"Don't worry, Luna. I am not like adults. I am only a big girl. I will take you on a treasure hunt someday."
She tossed them back onto the desk. Luna mimicked her sigh with an exaggerated “Ooooh,” earning herself a solemn nod from her big sister.
Then Lilly’s sharp eyes landed on something across the room. A sleek door, set into the wall, almost hidden if you didn’t look carefully.
She gasped and whispered with theatrical suspense, “The Safe Room.”
Luna’s mouth formed a perfect “O.”
They padded over and, to Lilly’s delight, the door clicked open when she pushed a book. A narrow, shadowy space lay inside, lined with shelves and locked drawers.
"I once watched Daddy go in here. Keep it a secret. No one knows I know about this room. This is definitely where Daddy keeps the secrets,” Lilly whispered, eyes shining. "I always want to know what's inside."
Luna’s little hands clapped again. “Shecretss!”
Without hesitation, Lilly stepped inside, dragging Luna with her. The door clicked shut behind them.
For one frozen second, they both stared at each other in the dim silence.
“Uh-oh…” Lilly muttered. She jiggled the handle, but it didn’t budge.
They both froze again, wide-eyed.
Then, almost in perfect unison, their faces split into delighted grins.
“This is so fun!” Lilly announced.
“Shooo fun!” Luna echoed, bouncing on her toes.
And just like that, they set up camp inside the safe room, as if it were a magical fort, completely unaware of the mild panic that would follow once their parents discovered where they’d gone.