Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 173: Everything

Chapter 172

Jack

I groan and wake up.

It’s dark.

I try to sit up.

My abdon hurts like hell.

"Sunshine?"

"Nolan?"

No response.

That’s weird.

Despite the pain in my abdon, I stumble toward the bathroom and fumble with the switch until the light cos on. My eyes hurt from the sudden brightness. They focus.

I look at myself in the mirror.

My heart drops.

The bandage around my torso is seeping red. My body is full of scars—everywhere. Bullet wounds. Knife wounds. Scarred, jarred skin from burns I’d forgotten I had.

No.

No.

No.

No.

I stumble back into the room. I turn on the light.

This is my apartnt.

Not the palace.

Not the bedroom I share with Ciel and Nolan. Not the room where Lanny’s crib sits in the corner.

This is the old place. The beach house? No. Smaller. Darker. A place I haven’t seen in years.

I look at the cigarette butts on the bedside table. Next to a gun. Next to a phone. Next to a bloody shirt on the floor.

No.

No.

No.

It can’t be.

Where’s Ciel?

Nolan?

My son?

My dear Lanny.

I fall to the ground and sob.

---

"Jack!"

"Wake up!"

I gasp.

Light floods my vision. Not the harsh bathroom light. Soft. Warm. Familiar.

Ciel’s face hovers above . His hands are on my face, my chest, my shoulders. He’s shaking.

"Jack, can you hear ? Jack!"

I blink.

The ceiling is wrong. No—the ceiling is right. Palace. Our bedroom. The curtains. The lamp. The crib in the corner.

"Sunshine?" My voice cracks.

"You were screaming." His eyes are wet. "You were screaming and I couldn’t wake you up."

Nolan appears behind him. His face is pale, his jaw tight.

I imdiately sit up and pull them both into a hug, needing to feel their body warmth, their presence. Are they real?

"I thought I lost you," I say in a broken voice.

They relax in my hold.

"It’s okay. We’re here," Ciel says.

He releases his pheromones ,the soft, calming ones, not the sharp ones ant to attract. They wrap around like a blanket, easing the frantic edge of my panic.

I breathe him in.Roses. Ho.

Nolan’s hand presses against my back. Firm. Grounding.

"We’re not going anywhere," Nolan says.

I hold them tighter.

We stay like that for a long mont—tangled together on the bed, my face buried in Ciel’s hair, Nolan’s cheek pressed to my shoulder.

When I finally pull back, my eyes are dry, but my hands are still shaking.

I lie back on the bed. I realize the needle in my arm is bent now—it’s uncomfortable. I remove it.

"I need so water."

Nolan hands a glass. But they both hover over , concerned.

I hand Nolan the glass back.

"It was just a nightmare. Don’t worry about it."

I settle back into the pillows.

They don’t look convinced.

"I’m serious." I take Ciel’s hand and place mine on top.

They don’t look convinced, but thankfully, they don’t pry any further.

*

I’ve gone to work with stab wounds or broken bones before. I never thought the day would co when I’m treated like this over re scratches on my palms and fingers.

And... I don’t hate it.

I’m babied.

For the shower, they showered . I just stood there.

Obviously, I was going to take advantage of the situation.

It was nice—the teamwork they had. Bringing to release.

They dressed up.

Fed .

I’m okay. I really am.

But... I could enjoy this treatnt a bit longer.

"Dada!" Lanny says.

Clearly jealous of not being the sole center of attention.

I lean on my elbow. "It’s my turn to be babied, Lanny."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

Lanny stomps his foot. It’s about as intimidating as a kitten hissing.

"I was injured," I say.

Lanny crosses his arms. "Dada not injured."

"My hands." I hold up my bandaged palms. "See? Ouch."

Lanny squints at them. Then at . Then back at them.

"Mama kiss better."

Ciel chokes. "Papa. Papa kiss better."

"Papa kiss better," Lanny repeats, then marches over to Ciel and presents my hands to him like evidence. "Kiss."

Ciel looks at . I shrug.

He sighs, leans down, and presses a kiss to each of my bandaged palms.

Lanny nods, satisfied. "Better."

Then he climbs onto the bed and plants himself directly on my chest.

"My turn," he announces.

I look at Ciel. "He gets it from you."

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Nolan laughs outright.

And I lie there, with my son on my chest and my partners beside , and I think—

This is what I was dreaming about in that apartnt.

This is what I was afraid I’d lost.

This is everything.

My worst fear is waking up to realize none of this was real.

I don’t get to dwell in those emotions before Lanny smacks the shit out of .

"Ow."

Ciel grabs him imdiately. "No, Lanny. We don’t hit people."

"Papa." He says it so earnestly. Papa. Not Mama anymore. He finally got it right.

"I’m serious. We don’t hit." Ciel’s voice is firm. His face is serious.

Lanny’s lip wobbles. His eyes fill with tears.

No. My baby.

I want to intervene. I open my mouth—

Ciel’s cold glare hits like a wall.

I shut up. Look away.

I’m sorry, Lanny. Your papa is just too scary.

Lanny sniffles. Ciel holds firm.

"We don’t hit," he repeats, softer now. "We use our words. Can you say sorry to Dada?"

Lanny looks at . His eyes are huge, wet, devastating.

"Sorry, Dada," he whispers.

I lt.

"Thank you, buddy." I open my arms. He climbs into them imdiately, burying his face in my chest.

Ciel sighs. Runs a hand through his hair.

"I’m not scary," he mutters.

Nolan and I exchange a glance.

"You’re terrifying," Nolan says.

"I’m parenting."

"Sa thing."

Ciel throws a pillow at him. Nolan catches it, grinning.

Lanny peeks up at . "Papa scary?"

"Very scary," I whisper. "That’s why we listen to him."

Lanny nods solemnly. "Okay."

Ciel glares at . I smile innocently.