Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega-Chapter 120: Imperial brother (1)

Rafael had recovered enough to return to the imperial office.

He could have continued to work from home - no one would have questioned it, and Gabriel in particular didn’t care where Rafael sat as long as the work arrived when it was supposed to. Gabriel had his own schedule to survive: consort duties stacked like a wall and a teething Arik who had decided that either parent was acceptable as long as he was attached to them at all times.

So Rafael showed up.

And ’they’ were in the office, by ’they’ meaning Irina with a neat stack of documents and the careful patience of someone used to palace chaos; Alexandra, who had apparently mistaken the imperial office for a social salon; Gabriel with Arik attached like a tiny, angry ornament; and Edward, who only materialized when signatures were needed for household orders and the bureaucracy demanded blood.

Rafael stood near the desk with a file under his arm, composed enough to fool strangers.

Alexandra looked him over with bright curiosity and absolutely no fear for her own life.

"You know..." she said, leaning in like she was sharing a secret, "I’m still baffled that you are pregnant before me." Her lips curved, amused and offended at once. "I’m the one married for over seven years."

Rafael didn’t blink.

He didn’t even sigh.

He simply looked at her with the calm violence of a man choosing restraint.

"Alexandra," he said evenly, "if you continue like this, I’m going to vomit on you."

Irina made a small choking sound that she tried to disguise as a cough.

Edward paused mid-step with his tablet, eyes down, posture screaming, ’I don’t get paid enough to witness this.’

Gabriel, balancing Arik against his chest, didn’t look up from the baby. He only adjusted Arik’s position as the little tyrant gnawed on his own fist with offended determination.

"That would be a valid consequence," Gabriel said dryly.

Alexandra’s eyes widened, delighted instead of chastened. "See? Even Gabriel agrees."

Rafael’s expression didn’t change. "Gabriel agrees because he enjoys watching you suffer."

Gabriel only smiled.

Alexandra placed a hand dramatically over her chest. "I’m not suffering. I’m curious."

"You’re nosy," Rafael corrected.

"I’m invested," Alexandra insisted, leaning closer as if Rafael’s personal life was now an imperial project. "I just don’t understand how you..." she gestured vaguely at Rafael’s stomach, then caught herself and changed target with a grin, "how you did it before me."

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. "Do you want the medical explanation or the legal one?"

Alexandra beamed. "Both."

"Neither," Rafael replied.

Irina cleared her throat, soft and careful. "We have the procurement forms for the nursery..."

Gabriel lifted a hand slightly without looking, a silent continue, while Arik made a low, displeased sound and grabbed at Gabriel’s collar like the garment had personally offended him.

Alexandra ignored Irina entirely, as if the concept of ’paperwork’ didn’t apply to her. "Maybe it’s because Gregoris is..."

"Don’t," Rafael warned.

Alexandra blinked innocently. "What?"

"If you say anything about Gregoris’s... competence," Rafael said, voice perfectly even, "I’ll vomit on you and blame hormones."

Gabriel finally looked up, eyes sharp with amusement. "Please don’t," he said, and then added in the same breath, "do it if she deserves it."

Alexandra gasped. "Gabriel!"

Gabriel looked back down at Arik. "Arik hasn’t slept. I’m not morally responsible right now."

Edward shifted closer like a man trying to rescue the office with procedure. "Your Grace," he murmured to Gabriel, holding out a tablet, "household orders for approval."

Gabriel signed without even glancing, because apparently he could run an empire with one hand while the other supported a teething heir.

And then the office door opened with the kind of force that made the air jump.

Charles strode in like fury had given him an extra pair of legs, hair swept back, blue eyes bright with the particular rage of a man who had just been reminded that his ’punishment’ had evolved into a lifestyle.

He didn’t bother with greetings. He didn’t bother with titles.

He looked straight at Gabriel.

"You," Charles said, voice sharp enough to cut paper. "Have you lost your mind?"

Irina went very still. Edward attempted to become a decorative object. Alexandra’s eyes lit up like someone had offered her a front-row seat to disaster.

Gabriel didn’t even flinch. Arik was attached to him like a tiny tyrant, teething and offended by the concept of raised voices. Gabriel adjusted the baby higher on his hip.

"Good morning to you too," Gabriel said dryly.

Charles took another step, anger vibrating. "Don’t do that. Don’t be calm. You approved it."

Gabriel lifted a brow. "Approved what?"

"Don’t play stupid, Gabriel." Charles’s jaw clenched on his own restraint, which said a lot. "Gregoris ’borrowed’ me. Temporarily reassigned. He wants me as his underdog."

The word came out like an insult meant to start a war.

Arik chose that moment to complain loudly at the emotional climate, fist in mouth, eyes squinting with the fury of a tiny warlord.

Gabriel bounced him once, gentle. "Lower your tone," he said. "My child is teething."

Charles stared at him like that was the most offensive sentence in the world. "Your child is teething and I’m being sentenced."

"You’re being trained," Gabriel corrected.

"I would rather die," Charles snapped, "than be Gregoris’s underdog."

Alexandra made a pleased, breathy sound. "Oh."

Charles’s head turned slowly toward her. "Don’t."

Alexandra smiled, unrepentant. "I didn’t say anything."

"You’re about to," Charles said.

Gabriel’s gaze stayed on Charles. Calm. Flat. The kind of patience only the youngest sibling developed - the one who learned early that older brothers mistook volume for authority.

"Charles. You’re not a victim."

Charles laughed once, sharp and humorless. "Right. Because you said so."

Gabriel didn’t blink. "No. Because you were the one who stormed into Damian’s private wing with murder in your eyes and the impulse control of a toddler."

Alexandra’s brows lifted, delighted. Irina went very still. Edward stared harder at his tablet, like it might become a shield.

Charles’s jaw clenched. "That’s not..."

"That’s exactly what happened," Gabriel cut in, voice still even, almost gentle in its brutality. "You attacked the Emperor. In his own palace. In front of enough witnesses that the word ’treason’ practically wrote itself."

Charles’s face went tight, anger flashing over humiliation. "He let me."

Gabriel’s mouth quirked, faint and sharp. "Yes. He let you. And then he used your ’heroic little outburst’ as leverage."

Charles’s hands clenched. "I was trying to—"

"You were trying to be dramatic," Gabriel corrected. "Damian didn’t punish you because he was offended. He punished you because you handed him a clean excuse and he recognized your potential the same way he recognizes everything else - by turning it into a weapon."

Charles glared at him. "So how is that my fault?"

Gabriel’s eyes held his, unwavering. "It’s not your fault. It’s your consequence."

Silence landed hard.

Then Gabriel added, voice still calm but sharpened now, "And don’t look at me like I wrote the policy. You’re asking me why I approved Gregoris borrowing you when you’re the one who gave Damian the rope, tied it around your own wrists, and called it righteous anger."