Oivia was sitting at the dinner table, lost in her thoughts and completely unaware of her surroundings. A sudden giggle from upstairs pulled her back to reality.

She quickly scanned the area, and what she saw made her panic—chairs, the tablecloth with dishes, living room sofas, lamps, utensils, cutlery, and other items were all floating in the air.

The stove in the kitchen flicked on and off by itself while the lights kept flickering. She glanced at her wrist and realized her bracelet was missing, which only deepened her worry.

Trying to steady herself, she sipped water from a glass floating near her, then placed her hands in her lap and shut her eyes to focus. Her powers, still immature and unstable, were spilling out of her like an uncontrollable stream. If she didn’t rein them in, her family could get hurt.

When she opened her eyes again, everything had settled back into its original place. She exhaled deeply, murmuring with relief, “That was pretty close… uff.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps signaled Johnathan and their daughter descending the stairs. They took their seats—Megan beside Olivia and Johnathan across from her. The table was filled with all her favorite dishes.

This man… he never forgets a single thing. How could anyone resist falling in love with him?

Why didn’t the Moon Goddess mate me with someone like him? Why Marcus? Why a brute like him?

“Lia, Lia, Olivia!” A gentle jerk to her hand startled her from her spiraling thoughts. She lifted her gaze to see Johnathan looking at her with confusion.

“Hmmm, what happened?” she asked softly, pretending innocence.

Johnathan, struck by her cuteness, could only smile. Tilting his head slightly, he chuckled and teased, “Back to earth, Lia. You zoned out. Megan’s been calling you for a while now.”

“Let’s start praying, mama!” Megan invited sweetly, using her baby voice.

He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, ready for prayer. On cue, Megan mirrored him.Olivia followed along silently.

After the prayer, they began their meal. Olivia couldn’t help but hum in delight with every bite—it bordered on a moan. Megan was busy gobbling up her food, while Johnathan shot Olivia a knowing smirk that sent heat flying to her cheeks.

“Focus on your food!” she demanded, feigning coldness, though her blush betrayed her.

“How? When you’re acting like this?” he teased, his grin widening into something devilish.

“Who told you to be such a good chef?” she countered shyly, flashing him a warm smile despite her reddening face. They knew how to playfully banter—it was their unspoken rhythm, their love.

“I became a chef because the woman I love loves food the most,” he admitted smoothly. “So I worked hard, became good at it, and won her heart… then married her. Now she’s mine forever—she can’t leave me, not as long as my food keeps her tied to me.”

His candid words, filled with affection and confidence, melted Olivia’s heart. She smiled, warmth flooding her chest.

“I’m done,” she chirped, rising from her chair and heading to the sink.

But at that moment, the lights flickered again, and the faucets burst to life on their own. Olivia tried to stay calm, though unease clouded her face.

“Maybe just a power glitch,” she said impatiently, noticing both Johnathan and Megan’s unsettled looks.

“I’ll call the service,” Johnathan offered, standing to grab the intercom.

But Olivia was quicker; she had already pulled out her phone. “I’ll call them. You finish dinner and then read our Sugerplum a bedtime story, okay?” she urged with a sheepish little smile—one they could never say no to.

Johnathan shook his head helplessly. “Alright, Sugarplum. Which story do you want Papa to read?” he asked Megan, lifting her into his arms. Together they headed upstairs.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth!” Olivia reminded, calling after them.

“Yes ma’am!” they chorused in unison, their laughter echoing through the house until they disappeared.

Finally alone, Olivia waved her hand. In an instant,the dishes and table were spotless. Sometimes her powers felt like a blessing… but more often like a curse. The bracelet helped keep them in control —and she needed to find it.

She remembered wearing it earlier and guessed she may have dropped it while showering. Rushing to the bathroom, she searched every nook and even checked the drain, but the bracelet was nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, she rummaged through the laundry basket and finally spotted it tangled with a shirt button. Relief washed over her.

She was just fastening it around her wrist when strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Johnathan’s touch alone could scatter her fatigue.

“You promised me something, didn’t you?” His low, velvety voice brushed her ear. Before she could reply, he turned her, pinning her softly against the wall.

“I know… is Sugarplum asleep?” she whispered, half pushing against him.

“She’s fast asleep,” he reassured in hushed tones.

He scooped her up bridal-style and carried her into their bedroom, laying her gently onto the bed before pressing his warmth over her. She surrendered to his touch, willing to forget Marcus and the wounds of her past—even if just for tonight.

Here, with Johnathan, it was love. Healing. Safety.The reason she had chosen the human world over any other cruel fate.

Later that night…

“No!! No, leave them alone! Don’t do this, please! Leave them!”

Olivia tossed in her sleep, mumbling and fighting against invisible tormentors. Around three a.m., she bolted awake, panting in fear.

The nightmare had been vivid—shadows dragging her by the hair, one strangling Megan, others savagely beating Johnathan while she was tied down, screaming helplessly. Their cries still echoed in her ears, too real to dismiss.

Drenched in cold sweat, she leapt out of bed and pulled on Jonathan’s shirt to cover herself before rushing to Megan’s room. Peeking in, she found her daughter sleeping soundly, tucked neatly under the blanket. Relief filled her lungs.

Still, the unease wouldn’t fade. Back in her bedroom, she opened the drawer, withdrawing a cigarette case. Sitting by the window, she lit one and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fan through her body.

The bitter taste lingered, its poison sitting heavy in her stomach. Just like Marcus. One word described them both— Toxic.