Chapter 89

AN: patreon and KoFi updated chaps.. It's around 128 Advanced chaps.

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ROBIN'S POV

As I waited for the phone call to connect, I couldn't help but remember how much Jatix hated where I'd placed him. Not that I could blame him. I knew he wasn't exactly thrilled about playing babysitter to humans, especially considering his very unique skill set.

We met years ago, during one of my many "adventures" to avoid dealing with my Olivia situationship. It was just another round of "Let's find something supernatural that's not me," which, up until then, had been a complete bust. That was until we stumbled upon him:

Jatix Forrester-Stein.

A were-griffon.

Yeah, you read that right. A freaking were-griffon.

Picture this: built like a Greek god, skin as dark as polished obsidian, with a mane of white hair that shimmered like moonlight. He was the kind of man who could walk up to a woman, casually ask for her panties, and instead of getting slapped, she'd probably hand them over—with extras. Not that he'd ever actually do that. Were-griffons mate for life, and Jatix? He's a by-the-book, no-nonsense kind of guy. The type to lecture you about morals while flipping a car for fun.

We found him in a place I can't even remember—literally. It's like the location is under some supernatural witness protection program. I can recall what happened but not where. Imagine a hidden sect straight out of a wuxia novel: wars, betrayals, and family drama so spicy it made soap operas look tame. Jatix, the sixth son of the clan's leader, was loyal to a fault. Problem was, his family saw him as little more than a glorified bodyguard.

Nasu and I got roped into their war by accident—I swear it wasn't my fault this time. After some serious battles (and me narrowly avoiding getting skewered), we helped Jatix realize his worth and convinced him to leave the clan behind.

The catch? Griffons thrive on battle. Dropping him into a peaceful setting without an adjustment period would've been like giving a racecar driver a tricycle. So we took baby steps, easing him into the world outside his clan.

Eventually, we ended up in India, where we met this incredible nun named Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu. You might know her better as Mother Teresa. Don't ask me how, but she managed to mellow Jatix out. They became close—strictly platonic, of course. I mean, she's practically saintly. (Literally. If someone told me she was an actual angel, I wouldn't even blink.)

After that, we left Jatix to help run my businesses while Nasu and I dealt with our mess back home. He wasn't thrilled about being stuck in the "mundane world," but I emphasized how much I trusted him to protect what mattered most. One of those priorities? NJ.

Who, as it turns out, grew up to be… Marilyn Monroe.

Yeah. Let that sink in. THE Marilyn Monroe. The same Marilyn Monroe who's been plastered on posters and billboards worldwide. All this time, in my past life, people joked that my "type" was Norma Jean, and I just thought it was just some meme I didn't know about. Turns out, they were kind of right... I did tend to lean on blondes... But it's weird now that I know it.

The call finally connected, snapping me out of my spiral.

"Hello?" Jatix's deep, refined voice rumbled through the line. "Who is this? If you're one of those prank callers, I suggest you hang up before I find you and make you regret—"

"Wait, J! It's me!" I cut him off before he started threatening to unleash griffon hellfire.

There was a pause. Then, with the kind of exasperation only a centuries-old griffon could muster, he said, "Liesha. It's been years. And now you decide to call me? Have you finally run out of vampires and wolves to babysit?"

"Aw, come on, don't be like that," I said, trying to keep things light. "You know I trust you more than anyone. That's why I left you in charge."

"Left me in charge?" he repeated, his tone dripping with incredulity. "You left me here, managing your human affairs, while you sent those newcomers—Alice, Jasper, and Edweirdo—to infiltrate the Volturi castle on a mission so dangerous it makes war zones look tame. Meanwhile, I'm stuck dealing with actors who throw tantrums over catering menus. Tell me, Liesha, where's the balance in that?"

I winced. He wasn't wrong, but I had my reasons. "Look, I know it's not exactly thrilling, but someone had to keep things running smoothly on the ground. Plus, you're great at it! You're like the ultimate fixer."

"Fixer? Liesha, I'm a warrior, not a secretary," he shot back.

"Okay, fine, valid point," I admitted. "But, uh, speaking of fixing things… I need an update on NJ."

There was a beat of silence. "You mean Marilyn Monroe?"

"Yeah, her. What's she been up to? And when did she even start calling herself that?"

Jatix sighed again—the kind of sigh that made you feel like you'd failed a pop quiz. "Her manager suggested the name back when she started modeling. It stuck. As for what she's been up to… well, she's been spending time with Anton LaVey and JFK."

"Wait, what?!" I practically screeched, nearly dropping the phone. "Satan's publicist and the president-to-be? Are you serious?"

"Do I sound like I'm joking?" he replied, his tone as dry as the Sahara. "LaVey's got that silver tongue, and JFK's… well, JFK. They're both dangerous in their own ways. And NJ? She's too trusting for her own good."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "This is bad. Like, 'headline news and conspiracy theories for decades' bad. How did I let this happen?"

Jatix didn't miss a beat. "Because you abandoned her."

"Ouch, J. Way to twist the knife," I muttered.

"I'm not twisting anything. I'm stating facts," he said firmly. "You left her to chase your own agenda. Now you're surprised she's tangled up with the likes of LaVey and JFK? What did you expect?"

"I don't know! Maybe some normalcy? Like, date a nice, boring accountant or something?"

Jatix actually chuckled at that. "Liesha, she's your pseudo-daughter. Normal was never on the table."

He wasn't wrong. Still, the thought of NJ being involved with two of the most controversial figures of the 20th century was enough to make me want to scream into a pillow.

"What do I do, J?" I finally asked, my voice quieter.

There was a pause, then he said, "Handle your business. Stop running. NJ needs you, whether you believe it or not."

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, already feeling the weight of his words. "But, uh, before I go—any chance you want a new assignment? Something more… action-packed?"

Jatix perked up immediately. "What kind of action?"

"Oh, you know," I said, trying to sound casual. "The Volturi mission might need some extra muscle. Interested?"

His laugh was deep and full of relief. "Finally. Send me the details, Liesha. And this time, don't keep me waiting."

"Deal," I said, smiling despite myself.

I hung up the phone, my mind racing. NJ—my NJ—was involved with Anton LaVey and JFK. It felt like some cosmic joke, but I wasn't laughing. My gut churned with unease.

"What's wrong?"

I turned to see Rosalie strolling toward me, her arms crossed, her signature annoyed-but-concerned expression plastered across her face. She always had this uncanny ability to sense when something was up, and she never let it slide.

"Nothing," I muttered, trying to wave her off.

"Uh-huh," she said, leaning against the wall and raising an eyebrow. "You're pacing, muttering under your breath, and looking like someone just told you they're canceling chocolate forever. Spill it."

I groaned. "It's NJ."

"Marilyn?" she asked, tilting her head.

I flinched at the name. "Yeah… Marilyn. I'm worried about her. She's getting involved with some very questionable people."

Rosalie studied me for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing. Then she sighed, her tone turning sharp. "You mean the daughter you abandoned?"

I threw my hands up. "Oh, come on, not you too! I didn't abandon them!"

Rosalie snorted. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like you packed your bags, said 'peace out,' and left them to fend for themselves."

"It wasn't like that!" I snapped. "Also, you fannot use the lingo you learned from me against me! I didn't want to leave. But after Alice saw what the future held, I didn't have a choice. NJ and Olivia deserved better than being dragged into this supernatural mess. They deserved a normal life, not one where Olivia was a mistress to a vampire with a mate, and NJ was at risk because of who I am!"

Rosalie frowned, her expression softening, but only a little. "And you thought the best solution was to just… walk away?"

"I thought it was the only solution," I said, my voice quieter now. "I left to protect them, Rose. If I stayed, they would've been pulled into this world. And Olivia…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "She deserved someone who could love her fully, without supernatural baggage. Not someone with a predestined mate."

Rosalie was silent for a moment, then smirked. "And how's that working out for you? Olivia's alone, NJ's tangled up with a guy nicknamed Satan's Fan Club President, and JFK."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I know, okay? I know I messed up. But I did what I thought was right. And now I'm trying to fix it."

"Fix it how?" Rosalie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm going to see her," I said firmly. "NJ needs to know I'm still here for her, even if it's a little late."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "So you're just going to waltz back into her life and say, 'Hey, remember me? The vampire who abandoned you for your own good? I'm back! And by the way, stop dating Satanists!' That'll go over great."

I glared at her. "Do you have a better idea?"

She smirked. "Yeah. I'm coming with you."

I blinked. "You? Why?"

"Because someone has to make sure you don't chicken out. And honestly," she said, flipping her hair, "I'm curious to see what all the fuss is about with this Marilyn Monroe."

I groaned. "Fine. But you better behave."

Rosalie grinned, her eyes glinting mischievously. "No promises."

~~

Marilyn's POV

The exclusive club smelled like incense and expensive leather, the kind of place where secrets were currency and power was always for sale. Marilyn sat in her usual corner, flipping through her notes on the occult.

Every page felt like a step closer to the truth about Robin. Her other mother. The one who disappeared.

She fiddled with the pendant around her neck, tracing its intricate design. It was familiar, ancient, and every time she wore it, she felt like it was whispering secrets she wasn't ready to hear.

"Marilyn," a deep voice called.

She looked up to see Anton LaVey striding toward her, his expression smug as ever.

"You're late," she said, flashing him a practiced smile.

"My apologies," he replied, his eyes glinting. "I had to fetch someone special."

Behind him, a man stepped into the room.

He was tall, handsome, and terrifyingly magnetic. His piercing red eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, Marilyn forgot how to breathe.

There was something about him—something that reminded her of Robin. But where Robin's presence was protective, this man's aura was predatory.

"This," Anton said, gesturing grandly, "is someone who might have the answers you're looking for."

The man stepped forward, his smile sharp enough to cut glass.

Marilyn's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and curiosity.

"Who is he?" she asked, her voice steady despite the unease curling in her stomach.

Anton's smirk widened. "Allow me to introduce—"

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AN: another chap down my pals! Yep, it's a bit of a snooze atm. But there's thinga that'll be happening in the future chaps. He he.

Life keeps happening, so I wasn't able to upload yesterday, not even able to check the app/website for a while 😩.

Thanks for the power stones, I appreciate it so much, I always do. Thanks for the power stones, the comments, making an effort to be nice with your words.

Anywho, for those who want to send some support, be a patron on KoFi member, links are bellow, for the discord, you can comment that you wanna join, and I or some of the friends we already have there will send you the link. Were all harmless! 😶😌

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