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Chapter Text

Damian had been highly irritable these days.

Ever since meeting Ken; fighting against him in an intense battle of tennis, her fake husband had been strangely endearing towards her and Loid, even when they were not in public.

She can understand why he grew affection for Loid, their adopted son is adorable in every way, mischievous yet obedient and serious unlike any child his age. He is coincidentally, the perfect combination of both Damian and her, a fact she subconsciously acknowledged. 

However, as for her, he didn’t need to be that caring husband at home, he could reserve that façade for when they went out, save that energy for his highly demanding politician job.

So, it surprised her when one beautiful morning, he reverted back to the days when they first started living under the same roof.

She remembered it vividly, it just happened two and a half days ago. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the sheets were soft and they were the comfiest prison cell keeping her away from waking up to go to her day job. But, all hell broke lose when Damian abruptly got up beside her, almost knocking her off their fluff mansion.

“Wha- What’s wrong?! Where are you going?” She said, eyes wide opened as she watched him frantically threw on a trench coat, grabbed his wallet and went straight out the door.

The important thing was, he didn’t answer her questions.

She didn’t expect his ignorance to hurt her so much, but one thing was for sure, she didn’t appreciate it.

Anya quickly threw the fallen blanket back on the bed, her sleepiness had vanished and her need for answers heavy on her mind as she followed Damian.

“Excuse me! Damian! What’s with you?” She rounded a corner and found him fumbling with his shoes at the foyer, with an equally anxious looking Jeeves holding his briefcase.

“I don’t have time to talk to you right now, Anya.” He huffed, briefly checking his belongings.

“You just did!” Anya said frustratingly, he sighed:

“Look, my department called, there’s an emergency and I-I have to leave.” He turned the doorknob, “I wouldn’t be able to pick Loid up or be back for dinner, could you...”

“Yes, I could. See? It’s not so hard to fill me in on something, now go, I can take care of Loid.” He nodded then left without looking back, her smile dimmed, “Be safe...”

She didn’t think much of it the rest of that day. She did go to spy on him once Loid and her hospital job had been taken care of, but she didn’t see or hear much because his meeting took place in a sound-proof room, all her heard were muffled sounds of angry authorities. Shame on her for not remembering to put a hearing device on his body, she is getting slow.

But just when that late evening, when she hoped he would be cheery again, he had been snappy and frustrated all night, much to the dismay of their son and her.

His moody attitude continued to this day, and she has yet to address what has been going on in his mind, some spy she is.

She can’t let him go on like this, his emotions have affected everybody in this household and is extremely detrimental to Operation Strix. She needs him happy to keep up their family image, to maintain their marriage, to cheer Loid up because his sad face breaks her heart, to get rid of whatever was plaguing her husband’s mind, and to make her feel at ease again.

And so she established a plan to break down his emotions enough for him to be open to her, as she knew he wouldn’t like it if she asked him first hand.

She’d been delivering him bentos, homemade peanut butter cupcakes for dessert, as much as she wanted to devour them all, they are a key to get him to warm up to her again.

For the mission, yes, of course.

“What are you making, Mama?” Little Loid popped in the kitchen, subsequently standing on a small stool in order to watch what she was doing.

“Peanut cupcakes! For your Papa.” She cheerfully said.

“Papa has been sad these days; I don’t like it Mama.” She sobered up, her clean hand ruffling her son’s smooth blonde hair.

“He’s not sad, Loid, just a little stressed,” She smiled, “We can make him happy again by giving him these.”

Anya took a semi-cooled down cupcake out for Loid to eat, carefully unwrapping the paper and feeding her adopted son, who brightened up immediately.

“It’s so yummy, Mama! Can I have some more?” He went out grab another muffin, quickly eating it without waiting for his mother to answer.

“This one’s the last you’re gonna eat,” She gave him another one, “I'm saving some and the rest is for Papa to enjoy, no sneaking alright?”

“Okay Mama.” He averted his eyes, “I’m going to play now!”

“And I’m going to go and give these to your Papa,” She gathered her keys, a beautifully wrapped up bento box and a box full of muffins, “Don’t watch too much TV!”

“Roger that, ma’am!”

She giggled, briefly watching Loid pull out a Spy Wars CD before leaving.

Anya hummed as she closed the front door and practically skipped to her car, she’d made a few changes to her fried chicken recipe that she hoped he would love.

What she didn’t notice immediately was the figure standing luminously beside the driver’s door, waiting for her to appear. 

She skidded to a halt, surprised and a little annoyed to see him blocking her way:

“Ken? What are you doing here?” She asked, looking around to seek any eavesdropping passer-by’s.

“Ms. Becky ordered me to deliver these to you, ma’am.” Ken handed over a neatly sealed folder, which she suspected contained information of the suspiciously heated meetings Damian was apart of.

“Thank you, Daybreak,” She took it from his hands, “I don’t have much time to talk, I have to go.”

He eyed the lunchboxes: “To go and eat those at the hospital?”

She knew he meant, why aren’t you eating these here? and she had half the heart to tell him the truth, but Anya knew how sensitive Ken’s lie detecting skills are.

“I made these for Damian, now if you’ll excuse me- “

“Why would you need to make lunchboxes for Damian, Lady Starlight?” He whispered, albeit, it came out a bit rushed.

“Because his health and diet are important for the success of the mission?” She glanced at his expressions, “I have to go.”

“Lunchboxes aren’t necessary.”

“Well, I think they do.” She opened her car door, “This is not your place to say these things, Ken, you don’t know what has been happening.”

“Maybe I don’t, but what I do know is that you’re getting soft, ma’am.” Her breath hitched, hearing those exact same thoughts out loud from another person, especially her comrade, made things a lot worse for her than thinking about it.

She gripped the handle, “I’m not getting soft, I’m worried for the mission, S-Strix comes first above all else.”

“I apologize for prying, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t notice a change in your behaviour.” He stepped closer to her, “It would be a shame if we lost Westalis’s best spy to playing house, wouldn't it?”

“That is enough.” She sternly said, “We’ll talk later.”

She finally stepped into the warm confines of her car, releasing a breath she didn’t know she held.

Ken walked away solemnly, she knew he was only trying to warn her, but she couldn’t help but think if there’s something else behind his masked poker face.

Anya touched the bento boxes, they’re getting cold, I hope I make it to his office in time.

Suddenly, a thought hit her, why would she care so much about what he eats? Even taking the time to changing recipes and adding variety into his diet so that he wouldn’t be lacking in nutrition, finishing missions early so that she could marinate the meats in time to cook later.

Well, he is getting thin and losing quite a bit of weight- She paused.

Oh no.

Chapter Text

She internally screamed for the rest of the car ride to his office.

How could this be? She thought anxiously.

Surely I’m just worried for the mission, if he wasn’t healthy, then how could we keep up the family image for Eden? If he’s unhappy, what would the press think of us when we go out?

‘Wow, Senator Damian looks so slim these days.’

‘Is Doctor Anya underfeeding him?’

‘Doesn’t he have a butler?’

‘Poor him.’

‘I would do better if I were her.’

‘We should alert the SSS!’

Yes, that must be it, Anya turned a corner, besides I start this whole lunchbox scheme with the sole purpose of getting him to open up to me about what’s been worrying him. I could get some more info if possible.

I do this for Operation Strix.

Of course, I am.

What kind of spy am I if I let my feelings take hold?

But also what kind of person am I if I didn’t care at all?

The car halted to a stop, parking right in front of the building where many meetings and political conflicts take hold over the years, and where her husband’s office lies.

Speaking of whom…he must be hungry.

Anya parked her car at the usual place she has chosen, the spot has the perfect amount of shading and every window in this office building overlooks the parking lot, as well as a great view of Ostania. She could easily look after her car from afar and leap into action if one were to sabotage anything about the vehicle.

One can never be too careful.

She walked into the reception hall with the lunchboxes in hand, politely greeting every person she saw, as much as she loathed the annoyed expressions on some of the senior employees.

“Hello, Diana!” A receptionist perked up from behind the counter, smiling at Anya.

“Anya, hi! Here to deliver food for Senator Damian?” Diana asked, even though she knew fully well of the answer.

“Yeah, I am, may I go up to his office this time? I have something to say to him.” She said, normally Diana wouldn’t let her go up, as she might overhear some of the occurring meetings of Damian’s colleagues, it was part of the policy for any wandering civilian.

“Actually you can, they’re all going on lunch break now,” The brown-haired woman grinned mischievously at Anya, “Damian came earlier to ask for your whereabouts, you better hurry before he starves to death without seeing you.”

Diana giggled while Anya blushed furiously, he’s been asking for me?

Why does that feel nice?

“Thanks a lot Diana! I’m sure your husband would’ve said the same if I were in your position.” The pink-haired spy playfully hit the receptionist on forearm, whom chuckled, “I got to go, see you later!”

She hurriedly jogged to the elevator, her heart beating fast, her breaths getting heavy from the adrenaline of her knowledge of Damian merely asking of her presence, and her hands are especially shaky.

“What is happening?” She spoke to herself in the elevator, “I see him everyday!”

The lift stopped at the 12^th floor, she rushed out, letting her feet lead the way to his office, committing the path to memory a while ago.

She stopped right in front of his room, her symptoms hadn’t subsided, they were; in fact, getting worse.

Anya blew out a breath, shaky hands gripping the lunchboxes and knocking on the mahogany wooden door three times.

“Come in.” His deep and regal voice rang out from the inside, the one he used during many of his speeches. She felt strangely drawn to it, which was why she now had the courage to step in.

“Damian.” Anya breathed out, closing the door behind her.

“Anya.” Her husband stood up from his chair, smiling sadly, “You came.”

“Of course, I did, idiot.” She smiled, examining his expressions and internally frowned, “We don’t want the senator to die of starvation.”

He laughed lightly, gently taking his prepared lunch from his wife. Their hands brushed against each other for a moment, Anya subconsciously wished his hands had stayed there, holding her own ones.

“Thank you, Anya.” He walked her to the coffee table, where he sat opposite her.

“Your welcome, they take very long to make.” She laughed at his guilty-looking expressions, “No, I’m kidding, you don’t need to thank me, what kind of a senator’s wife am I if I don’t do this?”

Damian smiled, opening a bento box filled with fried chicken doused in teriyaki sauce, a generous amount of rice accompanied with a side of Caesar salad, cherry tomatoes and stir fry noodles.

“Wow,” He said breathily, looking at her, “Lunch looks good.”

“Does it?” She looked away from him, suddenly the globe on his shelf looked extra interesting, “I changed a few things about the chicken, I don’t know if you’d like it.”

Damian shook his head, his usually peppy and confident wife being insecure about her cooking skills sounded so alien to him, “You have nothing to be insecure about the food if that’s what you’re thinking, they all taste amazing.”

He started eating while she thought, no, it wasn’t about the food, it was his stare on her earlier.

 “Would you like some tea?” He asked, happily munching on a piece of chicken despite not directly showing it, “You look out of breath.”

“No thanks.” Was she really? “I just had to hurry because it was late.”

“Just take your time from now on, I’m not that hungry anyways.”

She grinned at him: “Come on, I know you’re lying, Sy-on boy.”

Her husband gave her an incredulous look, but sighed in defeat: “Yeah, but excuse me for worrying about my wife’s wellbeing.”

“Aww, is Sy-on boy concerned for me now?” She playfully batted her eyelashes, he scoffed.

“Don’t let it get into your head, it’s just proper gentlemen etiquette if you don’t know about that.” He flicked her forehead, then got up to pour her a cup of hot green tea, placing it on the table, “Drink up, you do look tired.”

Her face heated up, hotter than the drink in front of her, Dear god, what is with him today? Is my plan actually working?

It’s time to shoot my shot.

“Hey,” He looked at her, “I know we’re only in a fake marriage, but I couldn’t help but notice, you look sort of stressed and depressed these past few days.” His eyes widened, “What’s the matter?”

He didn’t speak anything for a minute, only silently finishing his bite which made her worry she might be saying something wrong.

“Damian?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“...I-I wasn’t aware that I was…have I been affecting everyone?” He put down his lunch, hands clasping together in a way Anya recognized as a tell-tale sign for his anxiety.

“Well, you know that kids can be intuitive and Loid has been telling me how sad he was that his Papa is sad and I have been meaning to ask you about it and…” She sighed, “…yes”

Anya hadn’t wanted to tell him right off the bat, their relationship hasn’t been the same as it used to be and she didn’t want to risk driving him further away by telling the truth. But this has to be done.

“I…” Damian ran his fingers through his hair, her fingers twitched, “It wasn’t only about my department…my parents are in Ostania.”

“Your parents? Melinda and Donovan Desmond?” She was shocked herself, no wonder Damian had been feeling down in spirits.

Only a few selective groups of people know that, while the Desmond’s appeared so powerful and mighty in the public eye, they are all broken people carefully masked behind a well-crafted shell of a human being.

Damian and Demetrius were more normal than their entire family tree combined, however, that doesn’t mean they lack the emotional distress and parental neglect bestowed upon their impressionable mind since young. They are lucky enough to have certain people in their inner circle help pull them out of their parent’s influence, albeit a little bit later in life.

That is why the Desmond parents had opted to retire and live far away from Ostania, leaving the rest of their political responsibilities to their children, however, not stopping to passively oversee the Chairman spot of the National Unity Party that Demetrius is currently taking hold of.

Because of recent small rumors and implications of a corrupt human experiment organization, the National Unity Party of Ostania is being called into question, therefore, requiring the presence of Donovan. This is all done while steering clear of public knowledge.

Anya had suspected of this, but her suspicions wouldn’t be confirmed unless she read the information kept secured in the brown folder given to her earlier.

But all she was thinking about right now is the mental state of her husband:

“What are they here for?” She quickly went to his side, depending on her heightened observational skills, she could tell he’s minutes away from hyperventilating.

“Business, as usual,” He sighed, “It’s not like they could be here for anything else.”

“…I’m sure they all miss their sons.”

“No, are you kidding me?” He turned to her, “I met them 2 days ago, they said ‘How could I get married without inviting them?’ and ‘a woman with a child no less’, when I sent them both letters to our wedding even when I knew for a fact they wouldn’t read it.”

Anya was silent, she hadn’t known how terrible their relationship was as Damian hadn’t shed any insight on his childhood. She collected and dug up evidence of the child neglect teaching style the Desmond’s pursue, but it was way different hearing it personally from one of their sons.

And one of their sons just so happen to be her fake husband, whom she had been worrying sick over these days.

“I mean, I can deal with the political mess of being a senator, that’s my job,” He frowned deeply, his breaths getting increasingly heavier, “But I can’t deal with my parents on my own, i-it’s far too overwhelming.”

She grabbed the cup of tea he poured for her earlier for him to drink, to which he greedily accepted.

“You don’t have to face this alone, Damian.” Anya placed her hands on his chest to calm him down, unexpectedly, her action had a subsequent soothing effect on her as well. Something about his vulnerable voice made her feel uncomfortable, almost unbearable to hear.

“They won’t hurt you, you have Loid, Jeeves, Bond, Max,” His eyes turned glassy, “…and me. You are not alone.”

“I don’t want you and Loid to get into my parent’s circle.” He’s definitely hyperventilating now, “Y-You don’t know how they’re like Anya, y-you couldn’t have k-known-”

She immediately had both her hands on his body, one on his back and one on his chest, rubbing them in circular motions in hopes of calming him down, while whispering reassuring words to his ears with her head on his left shoulder.

After a few minutes of vigorous breathing and some fallen drops of tears, Damian finally stopped hyperventilating, much to her relief.

Seeing him in pain hurts her so much that she wasn’t sure how it could have impacted her to this extent. She was so used to seeing him as the pillar of strength in their household, stern and serious yet so caring and loving at the same time. He is full of pride, stubborn and boring but he is her husband.

This man was crying, having a mental breakdown, and he is her husband.

“You’re okay, Damian,” She hugged him, “You’re okay.”

Even though Agent Starlight had been screaming at Anya to rip herself away from the man she had used for the success of the mission, against her better judgement, she kissed his forehead.

Chapter Text

Throughout her entire career of being a widely-feared spy, accomplishing things unimaginable to the average human being; strangely enough, successfully comforting Damian might be her greatest achievement yet.

She was there by his side, holding and soothing him while he teared up like a lost child looking for their parents, except in his case, both of his supposed parental figures were gone.

Anya was furious, what sort of parent would subject their children to emotional abuse? What sort of parent would bring a child into the world if they were not capable of raising them properly? What sort of parent would do such a thing?

She was so angry in fact, that she didn’t even notice how Damian blushed like a tomato and looked at her after that fated kiss on the forehead. She could deal with the repercussions later.

For now, she lacked the words to be able to comprehend what Damian had been through, and to think he would continue suffering if she and Loid hadn’t shown up.

No, I will not allow this to happen again, Anya looked at his tear-stricken face, he will never have to shed a tear about his parents again. 

After his breakdown, he looked utterly embarrassed, as if ashamed of showing vulnerability, ashamed of presenting a side of him that has never been seen before. He kept looking at his cold lunch, the peanut-flavoured cupcakes staring back at his stomach devoid of any trace of hunger.

Anya gently nudged him with her shoulder before realising the position they’re currently in, her arms wrapped around and head leaned on his shoulders, his cheek rested on her silky pink hair as they sat awfully close, closer than expected of a fake couple.

What am I doing? She pulled away from him then quickly regained her composure, why did I kiss him?

Why did I feel the need to kiss him?

Damian cleared his throat: “I-I’m sorry about that.”

“What?” She frowned, “Damian Desmond, you should never have to be sorry about crying.”

“But I…took it all out on you…I wasn’t used to being this open to anyone…ever, you must have felt- “

“Oh please,” She took his hands, once again, Starlight questions herself why Anya did this, “I have seen and treated dozens of people pouring their hearts out to me, some with worse reactions than yours. Even though I don’t undermine or underestimate your emotions, be rest assured that I can handle it and you never have to worry about overwhelming me, or being a burden to anyone.”

He bit his lips and she knew she hit the right spot:

“…thank you, Anya, I know I can be an imbecile and ignorant at times, even being unaware of my actions, just know that,” Her husband smiled, the most genuine one she’d seen adorned on his face these past few days, “Um, that, I-I’m glad Loid and you came into my life.”

She widened her eyes, a strange prickly feeling piled up in the pits of her stomach, she quickly pushed it down, maybe it was her ulcer acting up again.

Agent Starlight wanted to celebrate, after all the planning and meticulous observation of his body language, she finally succeeded in getting Damian to put down the barricaded wall hiding his feelings. She finally had the opportunity to get to know him better for the sake of Operation Strix.

But Anya Forger didn’t care about Operation Strix.

Yes, both of them initially considered this plan merely a scheme, a sad and unhappy husband is detrimental for Operation Strix. But through time, between going on side missions and rushing back home to fix meals for her husband, the lines separating Operation Strix and her feelings blurred exponentially.

She doesn’t want him to be sad because it makes her sad, she doesn’t want him to starve himself just because he has too much work, she doesn’t want him to suffer any longer.

She starts genuinely caring for his well-being simply because she wants to do so. Even if Starlight kept reminding her it was for the mission, she didn’t listen.

So when Damian said he was glad that she and their son appeared in his life; despite every jump back and forth between Starlight and her Anya persona; despite mentally lecturing herself that she is being unprofessional:

She was proud of her husband.

It was a frightening thought to have.

Anya sniffed then laughed, feeling the fresh tears coming: “You just got yourself a free therapy session.” 

“Everyday is a free therapy session as long as you’re around, even when some of them have the opposite desired result.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when you instructed me how to soften my voice whenever it’s my turn to read bedtime stories for Loid, he ended up staying up all night because he said: ‘I don’t want to miss this for the world!’”

She laughed, albeit a little bit too overboard, but she needed this to discard all the negative energy hanging around in the air.

She could hear Damian chuckle along with her, however, when she was done, Anya caught him looking at her with the softest expression, the one he reserved just for Loid.

What the hell?

She didn’t even get to question him about it when an unexpected knock emerged on the opposite side of his office door, her husband grumbled:

“Who is it?”

“It’s Emile.”

He calmly gathered up the lunchboxes, closing the containers with their respective lids: “Come in.”

A semi-chubby blonde man strode in, wearing a sharp black suit, black leather gloves on his hands as well as sunglasses and a briefcase.

Anya has been friends with Ewen and Emile from the day of her impromptu engagement with Damian. She recalled herself watching them, amusedly, as they congratulated and patted Damian multiple times on the back while the former flushed in embarrassment and frustration.

“Oh, hey Anya,” Emile smiled, taking off his sunglasses, “Didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Hey, Emile, and yeah, Diana let me up, I thought you guys would be in meetings or something.” She shrugged, watching him place the briefcase on the couch.

“Even politicians have their limits.” Her husband responded, signalling Emile over when he glanced at her, his poker face resumed its position, “I need to talk to Emile. You should head home; it’s getting later in the afternoon.”

“Oh okay,” She stood up, grabbing her purse and the lunchbox containing the rice and meat while leaving the cupcake box here, “I’m taking this one home, you might want to sneak in a few cupcakes while at work.”

He softened: “Thank you, tell Loid I said hi.”

She nodded eagerly, waving at him then headed towards the door.

“Oh, and be safe while driving home.”

It’s just a simple reminder, but there was a warm feeling spreading across her body and something bloomed in her heart, it caused the next thing she said came clumsily tumbling out of her mouth:

“You too- “ She blushed, witnessing his face scrunch up in amusement, “I-I mean…that’s for later!”

Anya slammed the door shut, speeding out of there with pure shame.

Idiot! Why did I say ‘you too’?!

She was so flustered she didn’t even notice Diana attempting to wave goodbye at the fleeing woman, the receptionist chuckled: “Marriage.”

Once outside the building, she forced her heart to calm down as she neared the parking lot, however, her attempts remained futile because she saw the woman who was the wife of the target subject of Operation Strix and her young daughter in tow.

Nicole Briar and Yor Briar.

The wife, whose maiden name is Nicole Robin, was only out of adolescence when she was married to Yakov Briar, the son of a noble Ostanian family who would soon claim the president position in the late 1950s. Despite being in an arranged marriage, Nicole was happy and content with her lifestyle and predisposition, and Anya was able to find evidence to back this up.

Furthermore, Yor Briar is a sunshine of a child, always sweet and kind to her classmates, has a reputation of being shy yet brave and unorthodoxly strong for a kid her age. Her personality is in stark contrast with that of her equally noble friends whom she chose to associate with. Plus, her son has a budding friendship with Yor.

So it wouldn’t be too hard for Anya to get in close proximity to the Briar household, seeing as they are a friendly enough family to communicate with, correct?

Right?

Wrong.

She might have a chance with the Briar women, but the men of that household was a different story. Yakov Briar is incredibly manipulative, an out righteous narcissist and despite his kind upfront, he’s no doubt planning your downfall to ensure his reigning power, and Nicole seemed to be unaware of his actions. The only redeeming quality the Briar patriarch has is that he is a loving family man.

As for the youngest one, Yuri Briar is insanely protective of his sister and mother, would drive anyone away from even attempting to make friends with his sister. For a boy preparing to start elementary school, Anya shuddered in discomfort whenever she sees him near her boy Loid.

Luckily Yuri wasn’t around Yor often while she’s in school, so the door to keeping Loid’s friendship with Yor going isn’t that narrow.

Starlight was about to put on her fakest smile and greet the two people in front of her when Yor shouted:

“Hello Mrs. Desmond!” The little girl waved, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Ah hello, Ms. Yor and Mrs. Briar, how lovely it is to see you here.” Anya said, preparing a micro listening device in hand.

“My, is this the esteemed psychiatrist and wife of Damian Desmond I hear so much of? You look so much better in real life than in the tabloids, and my daughter has spoken so much of you.” Nicole flashed her infamous smile as she fixed her posture and smoothed out her braided raven hair.

“She has?” Anya looked down to Yor, smiling genuinely at the child, “Thank you, Ms. Yor, I am flattered.”

“No problem, Mrs. Desmond,” The girl played with her hair, “Loid has been helping me a lot in school, it’s no wonder, he has a mother like you!”

Anya and Nicole witnessed the blush blooming across Yor’s features as she toyed with her darker raven hair, a knowing look was shared between the two women, but they chose to not talk about it in fear of embarrassing Yor:

“I have heard much of you as well, Mrs. Briar, it is a shame we didn’t get to meet sooner, we would have been fast friends.”

“I thought so too, Mrs. Desmond, and please, call me Nicole. There is no need for formalities.”

“If only you would call me Anya, too,” She giggled, “I had just delivered lunch to Damian, if you don’t mind my asking, what are you here for…Nicole?”

“I don’t mind at all, Anya. My husband hasn’t been seeing Yor a lot these days, as she is always in school, so he called us over to spend quality time with our daughter, isn’t that right, my little Thornetta?” The ever elegant matriarch of the Briar smiled, picking Yor up in her arms.

“Yes! Father is going to give me lots of treats!” ‘Thornetta’ bounced in her mother’s arms.

“You best be hurry, Mr. Briar wouldn’t want to be kept waiting from spending time with his daughter,” She reached her arms out, “Oh her collar is folded up.”

Anya took the opportunity to carefully place the listening device under Yor’s left collar, whom thanked her before mother and daughter left the premise after saying goodbye to Anya.

The spy stayed there, watching the two Briar ladies walk away in innocent bliss, unaware that their conversations would be recorded. As much as Anya hated this, she needs the inside scoop on the relationship Yakov has with his family. And hopefully, unravel any important details of his upcoming political move.

Starlight got into her car, blowing out an exhausted breath, fixing her hair before hitting the road.

Meeting Nicole and Yor Briar was like a slap slamming against her cheek, bringing her back to reality, that she still has a mission to accomplish.

Ken was right, she is losing her grip, ‘getting soft’ like he said, but how could she not if Damian’s happiness was interfering with the well-being of her family, the core foundation of Operation Strix?

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, the Starlight and Anya inside her are fighting, with her feelings as the main topic.

Was she just doing this for the mission?

Was she really caring for Damian?

Did the kiss mean anything, a pawn to bringing his barriers down and feed her hunger for information, or a much needed distraction to get his mind away from thinking about his parents?

Why did she get flustered at the sight of him?

Why did she care so much?

What spy would wrap their arms around their fake husband in genuine fear of losing him to mental breakdown?

She stopped at the red light, watching pedestrians cross the streets, a thought occurred to her:

Maybe it was just a one-time thing, once he is normal again, I would revert back to normal too. It is only human nature to care for someone, and a spy like myself has to act convincing enough in order to get the result we want. The lines might be blurred, but my mission is my top priority, I have to risk my spy protocols to succeed.

‘I am proud of my husband.’

Yes, that is all to it.

But somehow, her heart still weighs heavy and her mind is filled with thoughts about what Damian is going to eat tomorrow.