Ch. 93 – Help Me with Dessert

Instead of freaking out, Rhys walked through the threshold with the pure, untouchable picture of nonchalance. It was the raw, hollow trance of a man who had already taken a mortal hit from the boardroom disaster with Isha earlier—a man with absolutely nothing left to lose.

Shula was leading the conversation effortlessly, carrying the room as she prattled on about how she had recently reconnected with Seraphina. Rhys glanced across the entryway at Seraphina. She looked more than excited to see him in her own home, her gaze practically vibrating with predatory anticipation. Beside her stood Ging, looking completely lost like a bewildered lamb—or a ram, Rhys corrected himself with a dry, internal chuckle as he eyed the tiefling's curled horns.

Don’t lose focus yet, he reminded himself, the shadowy figure of Omen looming right behind his shoulder like an ominous, judgmental constant.

Lira looked genuinely happy to be there, actually enjoying a rare evening out with old friends. Marcus was in high spirits, too, thrilled to catch up with Seraphina and Ging. But watching Marcus smile sent an uncomfortable spike of embarrassment and cold dread straight through Rhys’s chest. He wanted nothing more than to grab his best friend by the collar and warn him of the sheer cliff they were sleepwalking toward.

Somehow, Shula guided the group into Seraphina’s expansive kitchen, where a lavish spread of food was already laid out across the marble counters.

At least I don’t have to make dinner, a distant, exhausted thought flickered in Rhys’s head.

They sat down to eat, and remarkably, the dinner was relatively peaceful. The conversation flowed easily as they reminisced about old times back in their glory days as heroes. For a brief, dangerous moment, Rhys actually got pulled into the banter, momentarily forgetting what Shula—and now apparently Seraphina—truly wanted from him: his child.

Rhys numbly ignored it all, reaching across the table to grip Lira’s hand tenderly. But it didn't go unnoticed. Shula kept staring at him as she spoke, her eyes wide with a terrifying, undivided devotion. Seraphina was just as bad, her gaze openly undressing him under the glow of the chandelier. Rhys forced himself to tune them out, his nerves entirely deadened to their overt hunger by now.

What finally broke through his numbness, however, was Lira’s reaction. She noticed Shula staring across the table at Rhys. Instantly, Rhys felt his wife tense up, her fingers tightening around his hand with a fierce, protective, possessive grip.

The tipping point arrived with the dessert transition. Shula smoothly steered the talk toward how nice it was to see everyone again—before dropping the bomb. She casually announced that she and Darius were back in town to settle down and "bring a new child into the world," casting a heavy, smoldering look directly at Rhys.

The atmosphere in the dining room fractured instantly. Marcus shifted uncomfortably, though Darius looked even worse, going as stiff and rigid as a board beside his wife. Seraphina looked like she was actively in heat, biting her lower lip, while her husband Ging remained completely clueless. In fact, Ging was the only person in the room looking genuinely happy at the news.

Lira, on the other hand, was the absolute coldest thing in the room. The micro-gravitational field around her subtly shifted, bending the air like a tiny, suppressed black hole.

Sensing the disaster barreling toward them, Rhys frantically stepped in to steer the conversation away. He turned to Ging, asking him what he was up to now that he lived here in the city.

Ging instantly grew weirdly defensive, as if Rhys had prodded a raw nerve he spent all day worrying about. He muttered about his current station, and the more Ging talked, the more the life seemed to drain right out of the room.

This is really depressing, Rhys thought to himself with a heavy ache of pity.

And it truly was. Ging’s life hadn't amounted to much after retirement. He had somehow shrunk down physically over the years, now a tiny, frail shadow of the man he used to be. He was just a low-level corporate accountant, lamenting how the most thrilling thing he "battled" anymore was a set of budget spreadsheets.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rhys saw the dark figure of Omen stalking closer behind him, looking ready to physically lunge at Ging out of sheer second-hand embarrassment.

Before Ging could drone on about another boring office anecdote, Seraphina abruptly cut him off. Dinner was practically finished anyway. With a bright, calculated smile, she suggested they move the conversation into the living room.

Rhys stood up and followed along, his brain running on autopilot, refusing to process what trap was being laid next. They drifted into the sprawling living room, where the atmosphere felt entirely too calm, thick with the creeping warmth of the wine beginning to hit everyone's system.

Shula took a sip of her glass and murmured that dessert would really hit the spot right about now.

Rhys thought nothing of it. But Seraphina bolted upright, moving a bit too fast and looking far too excited. "I'll go get it," she announced brightly. Then, her eyes snapped directly to Rhys. "Rhys, darling... help me in the kitchen. You've always been great at food prep."

Rhys froze, for a fraction of a second nearly forgetting his own name. He blinked, opening his mouth to refuse, but a strange, heavy compliance muttered, "Yeah... I'll help."

The dark figure lingered silently in the corner of the living room, watching the exchange like a looming executioner.

Before Rhys could take a step, Lira’s chair scraped sharply against the floor. "I can help, too. No problem," Lira stated, her voice tight, a flash of undeniable, sharp concern shadowing her face as she refused to leave her husband's side.

The sudden pushback briefly yanked Rhys out of his daze. He had grown far too comfortable just letting life's rolling catastrophes happen around him—but seeing his own god-tier superhero wife on edge was a rude awakening.

Seraphina cut her off immediately, stepping in front of the kitchen threshold with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, absolutely not, Lira. Stay and relax, you're our guest of honor."

It was glaringly awkward, but for the sake of polite company and keeping the peace, Lira reluctantly stayed put, her jaw clenching.

Rhys turned and walked alone into the dim kitchen with Seraphina right behind him. He knew, with absolute certainty, that the worst was about to happen. And as he felt the heavy, suffocating presence of his dark shadow gliding in right behind them through the kitchen doors, Rhys couldn't tell whether the next few minutes were going to save him—or completely destroy what little he had left.