Chapter 41
Cassian ended the call with a swift motion, the screen going dark as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. Without another word, he continued eating breakfast as if it were just another ordinary morning—though the air between him and Mira felt faintly charged, heavy with something neither of them chose to acknowledge.
After a few quiet bites, he pushed his chair back and stood. He smoothed the tablecloth absently with one hand before reaching down to ruffle Lucien’s hair.
“Alright, little man,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I need to go now p>
Lucien nodded, solemn as ever.
Cassian then leaned down and kissed Ivy’s cheek, his touch gentle, lingering just a fraction longer than necessary.
“Be good to Mommy, okay?” he added, his voice warm but firm in that way that made it sound less like a request and more like a promise.
Both kids nodded again, their expressions unusually serious. Something about it made Cassian’s smile soften further. They waved as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, watching closely until it closed behind him.
The moment Cassian stepped outside, Lucien turned to Ivy with a grin that was far too knowing for a six-year-old.
“Ivy,” he whispered, his eyes shining with excitement. “I’ve got a plan p>
Ivy tilted her head, curiosity lighting her face. “What plan p>
Lucien’s grin widened, his voice dropping dramatically.
“Mission: Find out if Mr. Cassian has a girlfriend p>
Ivy’s eyes widened as the words sank in. Then she nodded eagerly.
“Yes! Spy mission p>
They hurried to their room and pulled out the tiny spy caps hidden beneath the bed—props from some forgotten game that now felt incredibly important. Ivy adjusted hers with grave concentration, while Lucien lifted his toy magnifying glass like it was a real detective’s tool.
“We need to start before he comes back,” Lucien said in a low, serious voice. “We have to be careful p>
Ivy nodded solemnly. “This is serious. If we fail, Mommy will be sad p>
Lucien straightened, lowering his voice even more. “Step one: Investigate his room p>
They tiptoed down the hallway, their small feet barely making a sound against the carpet. Cassian’s bedroom door stood closed in front of them, silent and imposing.
Lucien gripped the doorknob with both hands, inhaling deeply as if preparing for something very important.
“Okay,” he whispered. “We’re in. No noise p>
Ivy nodded, eyes wide and alert.
Lucien pushed the door open slowly, and they slipped inside like shadows.
The room was large and immaculate, everything in its place. A massive desk, expensive books, sleek furniture—it felt less like a bedroom and more like a grown-up’s headquarters.
Ivy lowered her voice instinctively. “This is where he keeps his secrets p>
Lucien stepped forward, lifting the magnifying glass to his eye. “Alright… first clue p>
He walked toward the bed and pointed dramatically.
“Look. The pillow has his initials. That means he sleeps here p>
Ivy gasped softly. “That’s a big clue. But Her brows knit together. “It doesn’t say girlfriend p>
Lucien frowned, clearly thinking hard.
“Wait,” he whispered, scanning the room slowly. “What’s that p>
He bent down and picked up a small object from the floor—a hair tie.
Ivy leaned closer, lowering her voice further. “Maybe it belongs to the girlfriend p>
Lucien nodded gravely. “Yes. We found something important p>
Ivy’s gaze shifted toward the wardrobe. “The closet p>
They approached it carefully, breathing slowly as if the room itself might hear them.
Lucien opened the door inch by inch.
Inside were neatly arranged suits and shirts, all dark and orderly. Then Ivy gasped sharply.
“There,” she whispered, pointing to a small scarf tucked behind a row of jackets.
Lucien grabbed it and held it up, eyes wide.
“This is definitely a clue,” he said seriously. “This is a girlfriend thing p>
Ivy nodded with full conviction. “Yes. This scarf is evidence p>
Lucien turned toward the bed, holding it like a trophy.
“Okay. Next step. We need more clues p>
They moved through the room with unwavering seriousness, checking every corner as if their lives depended on it.
Ivy picked up a glass from the bedside table and studied it closely.
“Maybe she drinks water here p>
Lucien raised his eyebrows. “Good thinking p>
He moved to the desk and opened a drawer.
“Aha p>
Inside lay a stack of papers and a small notebook.
Lucien lifted it carefully, reverently. “A secret diary p>
Ivy leaned closer, eyes wide. “Don’t read it. That’s private p>
Lucien nodded, suddenly solemn. “We’re only collecting evidence. Not reading p>
They continued whispering, inspecting, and making mental notes like real agents on a critical mission.
At one point, Ivy discovered a small perfume bottle tucked away.
“Maybe she smells like this,” she whispered, holding it carefully.
Lucien sniffed it and grimaced. “It smells like… money p>
Ivy frowned. “That’s not helpful p>
“No,” Lucien agreed. “But it’s still important p>
They checked behind the curtains, under the bed, and inside drawers, growing quieter with every pass.
Then Lucien stopped in front of the mirror.
“I think we’re missing something,” he whispered.
Ivy nodded slowly. “The most important clue p>
Lucien studied their reflections for a long moment, unusually thoughtful.
“Maybe,” he said carefully, “the girlfriend isn’t real p>
Ivy blinked. “What do you mean p>
“Maybe she’s just a story,” Lucien said seriously. “Like a mystery. Or… a legend p>
Ivy considered this, then nodded. “Then our mission is to find the legend p>
Lucien smiled. “Yes. We will find the legend p>
They stood there, tiny detectives in a massive room, fully committed to their mission.
After searching every corner with relentless focus, exhaustion finally caught up with them. Their investigation had taken them under beds, behind curtains, inside drawers, and into places they absolutely weren’t supposed to be.
Eventually, Lucien and Ivy curled up together inside Cassian’s walk-in closet, surrounded by neatly pressed suits and the faint, familiar scent of his cologne. The quiet wrapped around them, heavy and comforting.
Their whispered theories faded into silence.
They woke late in the afternoon.
“Ivy,” Lucien whispered urgently, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up. The mission isn’t over p>
Ivy groaned, rubbing her eyes. “What mission?” she mumbled.
Lucien stared at her. That look—the one that said she knew exactly what he meant.
“Ivy?” he said slowly.
Her eyes widened with sudden understanding. “Oh. That mission.” She sat up quickly. “Right p>
She jumped to her feet. “First, we show Mommy the evidence. Come on p>
They rushed down the hallway toward the home library, nearly tripping over each other in their hurry.
Mira was curled up on the couch, a book resting loosely in her hands as afternoon light filled the room.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Ivy called excitedly. “Look what we found p>
Lucien emptied his spy bag onto the table, arranging the items carefully like priceless discoveries.
Mira glanced down—and let out a long, tired sigh.
“Kids,” she said patiently, closing her book, “those are all mine p>
She gathered the items back up. “The investigation ends here p>
Lucien straightened, his expression firm. “No, Mommy. A mission only ends when it’s complete p>
Mira closed her eyes briefly, then smiled despite herself. “Fine. Lunch first. Then you can continue p>
Right on cue, both stomachs growled loudly.
They froze, exchanged looks, then nodded in agreement.
After lunch—and several intensely drawn “maps” covered in strange symbols—the investigation resumed.
During one final sweep, they found it.
A shirt Cassian had worn to the recent party.
Lucien lifted it carefully. Ivy leaned closer.
A faint lipstick stain marked the collar.
Understanding dawned slowly across their faces, then all at once.
They squealed, clapping and bouncing in place.
“Evidence,” Lucien whispered triumphantly.
“Real evidence,” Ivy giggled. “This is solid p>
That evening, a knock echoed through the house.
Mira opened the door to find Livia smiling brightly. “Hi, sisy. Where are my little kiddos p>
“Boo p>
Her mother popped out from behind her.
“Mom!” Mira gasped, then laughed, pulling her into a hug.
Moments later, the kids burst into the room.
“Granny p>
“Aunt Livia p>
They collided into their arms, laughter filling the space.
“My precious grandkids,” her mother said warmly.
Lucien hesitated, thoughtful. “Mommy is good to us,” he said slowly. “Mostly p>
Mira shot him a look. “Excuse me p>
Before she could continue, Lucien straightened again. “Mommy, we found the evidence p>
Mira groaned softly. “Lucien p>
“It’s serious,” he insisted.
Her mother smiled. “Let’s see it p>
Lucien returned holding the shirt like a trophy.
“Mr. Cassian has a girlfriend,” he announced proudly.
Ivy clapped. “Mission complete p>
Mira froze. Her breath caught as every eye turned to the lipstick stain.
“Mira?” her mother asked gently.
Mira cleared her throat, cheeks burning. “That stain… is mine p>
The silence that followed was thick, unmistakable, and heavy with realization.
And right then, Cassian walked in.
He stopped in the hallway, taking in the scene. Mira’s mother and Livia were seated on the couch, calm and unsuspecting, while Lucien stood rigid, clutching his shirt like it was a live wire—ready to explode at any moment.
The kid’s wide eyes were fixed on him, mouth set in a dramatic line, as if one wrong move could trigger a catastrophe.
Cassian’s gaze swept the room, noting Mira’s flushed face and the barely contained excitement in Ivy’s posture. He arched a brow, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. He could feel the tension thick in the air, a strange mix of innocence and mischief that only his kids could conjure.