Chapter 7 - Seraphina

The kitchen was quiet, except for the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board. I was focused on the task at hand, trying to keep my mind off everything that had been happening recently. The last thing I needed was another headache from Adrian's endless games.

I felt him before I saw him—the sudden warmth behind me, the faint scent of his cologne, and then, before I could react, his arms wrapped around my waist.

"Good morning, wifey," Adrian murmured, his voice low and far too close to my ear.

I gasped, my hand freezing mid-chop. "Adrian," I hissed, trying to pull away. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he said innocently, though his grip tightened. "Just greeting my lovely wife. Is that a crime?"

I turned my head slightly, giving him a sharp glare. "Let go. Iris could walk in any second."

"So?" he said, his voice laced with amusement. "She already knows about us. Don't act like we're hiding anything."

That smug tone of his made my blood boil. "Let. Go," I snapped, shoving against him. But, as always, he didn't move an inch. His solid frame was unyielding, and it only made my irritation grow.

"Not until you wish me a proper good morning," he said, his lips curving into a smirk I could feel rather than see. "Come on, Sera. Be nice."

"I don't have time for this," I grumbled, trying to pry his hands off me. "Good morning. Happy now?"

"Nope," he replied cheerfully, leaning in closer. "You can do better than that. Say it like you mean it. And add the magic word while you're at it."

"Magic word?" I repeated incredulously, twisting in his grip to glare at him. "What magic word?"

"You know," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Good morning, hubby."

I stared at him, my jaw tightening. "In your dreams."

"Fine," he said casually, though his hold on me didn't loosen. "But Iris is getting closer. Do you really want her to walk in and see this?"

My eyes darted toward the hallway. I could hear Iris's voice echoing as she approached. My pulse quickened, and I glared at him. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here we are," he replied smugly, leaning just a fraction closer.

I sighed heavily, my pride warring with my need to end this. The footsteps grew louder, and with no other option, I relented.

"Good morning, hubby," I muttered through gritted teeth, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

Adrian's smirk widened as he finally released me, stepping back with a triumphant look on his face. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

I glared at him, but before I could retort, Iris bounced into the kitchen, her smile bright and cheerful.

"Good morning, Mom! Good morning, Adrian!" she chirped, her eyes darting between the two of us.

"Good morning, Iris," Adrian said smoothly, his tone light and easy as if nothing had happened.

I, on the other hand, was still fuming, my irritation barely contained. "Morning, sweetheart," I managed to say, forcing a smile for her sake.

As Iris sat down at the table, I shot Adrian a glare over my shoulder. He simply grinned, his expression entirely too pleased with himself, before sauntering out of the kitchen like he'd won some kind of victory.

I turned back to the counter, gripping the knife tighter than necessary. One of these days, Adrian was going to push me too far. And when that happened... well, I wasn't sure who'd come out of it unscathed.

I busied myself with breakfast, trying to erase the smug grin Adrian had flashed me. The man was infuriating, always pushing buttons I didn't even know I had. Why did he have to act like the king of the world every time he opened his mouth?

As I plated the food, I heard him humming from the dining area. Humming. As if he wasn't the same man who had just spent the morning tormenting me. I walked over, placing Iris's plate in front of her with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Mom!" Iris said cheerfully, already diving into her food.

Adrian, seated comfortably at the head of the table like he owned the place (which he technically did), smirked up at me as I placed his plate in front of him.

"Wow, breakfast in bed and at the table? You're spoiling me, Sera," he said with a wink.

"Don't flatter yourself," I snapped, slamming his glass of juice a little harder than necessary.

His grin only widened. "You know, if you keep treating me like this, I might start thinking you like me."

I gave him my most withering glare. "Dream on."

"Already did," he shot back. "This is even better."

I rolled my eyes and sat down, deliberately ignoring him as I focused on Iris, who was happily munching away. Adrian, however, wasn't done.

"You know, Sera," he began, his tone casual but laced with mischief. "You left the kitchen in a bit of a mess. It's like you were in a rush to get away from me. Any reason why?"

I set my fork down and glared at him. "I left because I had actual work to do. Unlike some people who just sit around and smirk all day."

Adrian leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, looking far too amused. "I don't just sit around. I supervise. There's a difference."

"Oh, please," I shot back, my temper rising. "If supervising means annoying everyone within a ten-foot radius, then congratulations, you're a natural."

"Mom," Iris chimed in, her voice filled with innocent curiosity. "Are you mad at Adrian?"

I blinked, caught off guard, and forced a smile. "No, sweetheart. I'm just... discussing things with him."

"Really?" she asked, tilting her head. "Because you sound like you're arguing."

Adrian chuckled, looking far too pleased with himself. "It's not arguing, Iris. It's just how your mom shows affection."

My jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, his expression infuriatingly nonchalant. "I'm just saying, you've got a unique way of expressing your feelings."

"Feelings?" I repeated, my voice dangerously low.

"Yep," he said, popping a piece of toast into his mouth. "Don't worry, Sera. I find it endearing."

I was seconds away from throwing something at him when Iris giggled, breaking the tension. "You two are funny," she said, her eyes bright with amusement.

Adrian winked at her. "See? At least someone appreciates me."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. This man was going to be the death of me.

I stood by the doorway, arms crossed, watching the two of them. Iris sat across from Adrian at the dining table, swinging her legs back and forth as she chatted away. Adrian leaned in, looking completely at ease. Too at ease, if you asked me.

"It's really big! I almost got lost yesterday," Iris said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Adrian chuckled, the sound unnervingly soft. "Almost? Sounds like you're braver than most people who come here. Even your mom gets lost sometimes."

My eyes narrowed. Oh, he did not just say that.

I stepped forward, trying to keep my voice light. "Funny, I don't recall ever getting lost here. Maybe you're confusing me with someone else, Adrian."

He turned his head toward me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Sure, Sera. If that's the story you want to go with."

I clenched my fists, but before I could retort, Iris chimed in. "Mommy, you should've seen it! Uncle Adrian showed me this cool secret room with so many books. He said I can borrow any of them!"

I blinked. Uncle Adrian? Secret room? My gaze darted to him, and he had the audacity to raise an eyebrow at me as if daring me to protest.

"Iris," I said carefully, "you're not supposed to call him—"

"Uncle? Why not? He said I could!" she interrupted, looking genuinely confused.

Adrian leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "It's fine, Sera. She can call me whatever she wants." He paused for effect, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Though I think 'Dad' has a nice ring to it."

My mouth fell open, and Iris tilted her head in thought. "Hmm, Dad does sound kinda cool!"

"That's enough," I snapped, glaring at Adrian, who was now outright grinning. "Iris, finish your breakfast. We have things to do today."

Adrian rose from his chair leisurely, as though he had all the time in the world. He ruffled Iris's hair, which made her giggle, and then turned to me with a maddeningly calm expression.

"Relax, wifey," he murmured as he passed by, his voice low enough for only me to hear. "We're just bonding."

Bonding? If he kept this up, I was going to need a lot more patience—or a really good excuse to hit him with a frying pan.