Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the original TMI series and characters. Any familiar quotes that you recognise from the TMI books should, of course, be attributed to the ingenuity of Cassie. However, the plot lines and other character developments etc. in this story belongs to me, xxmadworldredemptionxx. Please do not copy, reproduce, translate, or repost these stories elsewhere without my permission.

MORGENSTERN-HERONDALE RIVALRY

Dinner at my parents' was a stiff affair. Then again, every gathering which basically involved them—and Jace—was.

No words were spoken, and meals were eaten with a passive-aggressive kind of silence. Every so often, Dad would purposely scrape his knife against the china, creating an unnecessarily loud, shrieking noise that would make me cringe. I've lost count of the number of times I glanced his way, only to notice him glaring at my husband. And because Jace was, well, Jace, he would glare right back, regardless of how many times I'd pinched his thigh and hissed at him to "cut it out".

There was no hate lost between them. The Morgensterns and Herondales were the bloody reincarnation of the Capulets and Montagues—with the exception of the brutal spilling of blood, thank God. They were sworn rivals in every aspect, from sports to business, to stocks, auctions and real estate—you name it. And just like Romeo and Juliet did, Jace and I were the first of our families to break the 'no-fraternizing-with-the-enemy' code.

We met during our freshman year of college, fell in love, and—against the furious protests of both our families—got married almost immediately after our graduation. Because neither of our parents supported our relationship, our wedding was held in a civil court instead, with our closest friends posing as our witnesses.

There had been numerous threats—from our fathers mostly—to cut us off from our inheritance, but we stayed firm with our decision to be together. Jace was the only child in his family, and thus the only heir to the Herondale empire, so his inheritance was pretty much a sealed deal. By the time he was 25, he'd been promoted to COO, just a rank below his father's.

On the other hand, I was in a compromising position. I had an older brother so it wouldn't have mattered to my dad if he'd disowned me. But by some miraculous stroke of luck, he hadn't. Sure, Valentine had refused to speak to me for the first six months of my marriage to Jace, but underneath all that simmering tension and boiling rage, I knew that my father loved me. Even if he failed to show it since my mutinous decision five years ago, I knew that I would forever hold a soft spot in his stubborn heart.

I could only hope that with time, Jace and I would be able to change my parents' minds; that they would finally come around to the fact that the Herondales and Morgensterns were now family. Jace's parents, like mine, were slow at accepting our marriage, but they were closer to it than either of my parents were.

It still made my eyes brim with tears when I remembered my success of coaxing a genuine smile out of his parents just last week. We had gone over to their place for dinner to break the news that I was 14 weeks pregnant, and though their reactions had been undecipherable at first, their elation finally broke through when Jace showed them the sonogram of our baby.

Enemy's daughter or not, I was expecting their first grandchild—one that would carry the Herondale name—and that made Celine and Stephen content, to say the least.

Which brought me to the real purpose of our visit to my parents' house. We had come bearing the intention to spill the beans of my pregnancy, but with the way things had been progressing so far, the opportunity seemed to slip further and further away from my grasp with every passing second. For one, I wished my father would stop scraping his damn knife against the plate… It was driving me nuts!

I was about to open my mouth to initiate some small talk (or to politely tell my dad to knock it off with his serial killer attitude) when the doorbell rang. Dad immediately stood up with a smirk, as if he had been anticipating a guest the entire time. I frowned at his reaction while my mother hurried to answer the door.

"Who's that?" I couldn't help but ask.

Dad looked over at Jace, then at me, and smiled. "You'll see," he answered cryptically.

No sooner than he'd uttered those words, Mom returned to the dining room with our presumably invited guest. My heart sank faster than the Titanic when I realized who it was. Sebastian Verlac. The man my parents had originally intended for me to marry. What was he doing here?

"What's he doing here?" Jace finally spoke up, anger barely concealed in his tone.

Dad looked at him disapprovingly, as if annoyed by the mere fact that my husband had chosen this particular moment to speak.

"I was invited," Sebastian answered in a cool tone.

Jace scoffed in disbelief, and I looked over at him in confusion. I couldn't understand his cold hostility towards Sebastian. As far as I knew, they had never even met before tonight, and I had never told him that I was previously engaged to the latter either. Granted, Sebastian was far from the list of my top ten favorite people in the world, and him being in the same room as my current husband wasn't the most ideal situation, ever. But why was Jace acting as if he was seconds away from throttling the guy? What did he know about Sebastian that I didn't?

"You planned this, didn't you?" Jace's voice was controlled, stiff, when he addressed my father. "This is all just another one of your tricks to ruffle my feathers, isn't it?" He cocked his head to the side, recognizable anger brewing in his golden eyes.

Dad gave him a contrived smile. "Funny, that," he said. "It amuses me that you think I care enough about you to actually 'plan' something for you. Sebastian was invited to our house days before Clarissa even told us you were coming over for dinner. If anything, you're the intruder here."

I gripped Jace's arm when his jaw clenched, the exact same time his left hand curled itself into a ready fist. "Please." He let out a mirthless laugh. "Everything you do is a bloody test for me. You planted this idiot"—he gestured to Sebastian—"as a mole in my company two years ago. I lost millions of dollars because of him. Because of you. But I didn't say anything because of Clary. Believe me, if it weren't for her, I would have dragged your ass to court and ripped you apart."

My eyes widened at this; I couldn't believe that I was only hearing about it for the first time. I remembered a period of time—two years ago—when Jace was stressing over work a hell lot more than he usually was. He would often come home late, within the wee hours of morning, then leave before I even woke up. Weeks passed and it had developed into a pattern that made it impossible for me to ignore. But when I'd confronted him, he had waved me off and told me it was nothing.

But it wasn't nothing. My sweet and gentle husband had turned into a snappish and broody version of himself. Where we would usually have breakfasts, lunches and dinners together almost every day without fail, he began pulling away from me. He would rarely even speak two words to me when we were in the same room. It had worried me so much that I started to speculate things…wondering if the reason for it was because he had been having an affair.

And when I brought that up, well, you could imagine the fire it started. We'd fought so much that I had been convinced then that our entire marriage had been constructed on a foundation of infatuation and lies; that after so long of trying to prove our parents wrong, our relationship would finally come crumbling down in divorce.

The turning point was when I'd packed my bags and walked out of our penthouse one night after a particularly horrible fight. I'd stayed with Isabelle—only because I knew that I couldn't show my face at my parents' house, not without them telling me "I told you so"—and contemplated sending Jace the divorce papers.

But before I could decide on anything solid, he had turned up at Isabelle's doorstep and begged for my forgiveness. We'd finally talked, and though he was never specific, he'd explained that his aberrant behavior had been triggered by major loss of company profits. I had been angry at him, but eventually, I'd understood. He had a lot of responsibility riding on his shoulders, and expectations built on generations of Herondale success. It was a lot of pressure that was bound to test his will at some point.

Little did I know that my father had been the one pulling the strings… I mean, he'd tried to sabotage Jace's company—and indirectly, my marriage—by using Sebastian? The idea was never an impossibility, but I had to admit, it was the furthest thing from my mind. It was an all-new low, even for my father.

"You dare to throw accusations at me and insult me in my own home?" Dad's raised voice broke me out of my thoughts.

"You can hardly call it an accusation when there's actual evidence of your crimes, Valentine," Jace retorted with another scoff. "It's only a matter of whether I choose to act on it—which I haven't."

"Is that a threat?"

Jace looked at me then, his golden eyes softening a fraction, before returning his steely gaze to my father. "As much as I hate you, I would never do that. Not because I actually care about you," he said, mimicking my father's words from earlier, "but because I care about my wife. She loves you… You're her father, and I respect that." Jace sighed as he slowly stood up from his seat, looking by no means defeated, but as always, for me, subdued. "But I can't stay in the same room with this...jerk anymore," he said, inclining his head towards Sebastian.

"Then by all means, leave," Dad said coldly. "You were never welcome here in the first place. You can take your arrogance with you and get off my property."

Jace gave him a curt nod. "As his Majesty pleases."

I would have expected my husband to pull me up along with him and lead us out of my parents' house, but instead, he bent down, and tenderly kissed my temple. "Darling, take your time and finish your dinner. I'll be waiting in the car," he said in the softest of tones, a stark contrast to his demeanor with my father earlier.

He was about to pull his arm away from my grasp, but I held onto him tighter. I shook my head at him. "Don't go, Jace," I whispered.

"I'm not leaving you. I'll just be waiting outside."

"Let him go, Clarissa. He's not worthy of you," Dad interjected.

My response came out faster than I could even process it in my mind. "Oh, and you are?" I glared at him, feeling an inexplicable sense of satisfaction when his expression mirrored surprise. I had never talked back to my father, even when he'd told me that I couldn't marry Jace.

"I've had it with you, Dad," I said, a sob unconsciously tearing through my chest. "I love you—that's never going to change. You and Mom raised me and gave me everything I have. I will always remember and appreciate that. But this?" I gestured to him first, then Sebastian. "All I ever want from you is your blessing. For you to be happy for me. I've put up with everything you've been throwing at me and Jace because I had hope that you will change…

"But I can see what a foolish mistake that was." I stood up with more force than I intended to, causing the chair to be pushed backwards a notch. "I won't tolerate you making jabs at my husband and sabotaging his family business anymore. I won't sit here and eat my dinner like a civil person when you so obviously fail to comprehend the meaning of the word 'civil'." I took in a ragged breath as I felt Jace wrap his arms around my waist to steady me.

"And if you're so intent on being like this, then you can forget about ever meeting your grandchild."

Everyone's eyes—save for mine and Jace's—widened even more at my revelation, and their gazes instantaneously zoomed in on my still-flat stomach. I placed my hand on my belly, wanting to shield my baby from all the people who despised and oppressed his father.

Jace's hand covered mine. "Let's go, Clary."

Taking their collective silence as my answer, I turned around and left with my husband.

The Next Day:

Jace was gone the moment I woke up. I'd spent the first ten minutes walking around our penthouse and calling out his name, but everywhere I looked, he wasn't there.

When we'd gotten home last night, we both immediately fell into bed and went to sleep. We didn't say anything. Even the car ride home had been silent. The only time Jace had spoken to me was when he'd asked me if I was hungry—I knew that if anything, he was concerned about our baby, but I just wasn't in the mood for eating. The implication of what I'd said to my parents had weighed heavily on my heart, and I had just been overwhelmed with exhaustion.

Then this morning, as strange as it might sound, I woke up missing Jace.

Maybe it was partly due to hormones, but when I realized that my husband had left for work, I'd immediately burst into tears in the kitchen. Jace had been considerate enough to make breakfast for me, so there was that, at least—but it still didn't satisfy my craving need for him.

I pulled out my phone when it beeped with a new message. Entering the passcode into my phone, I skimmed through Jace's message:

Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. Had an early meeting today. Anyway, hope you're enjoying the breakfast I left for you x

I sighed, a little annoyedly, then begrudgingly typed back a reply:

I wish you had woken me up. Missing you like crazy.

His response was almost instantaneous. I'm sorry I didn't. You looked tired and I wanted you to rest. I promise to make it up to you later. I miss you too x

I rolled my eyes and placed my phone back on the island, absentmindedly rubbing my hand across my belly. Startled, I looked down when I realized something that wasn't there before: a bump.

An actual, showing baby bump.

I laughed to myself, unable to stop rubbing it. It was a strange sensation, knowing that I had a baby—Jace's baby—inside of me. The morning sickness aside, I hadn't quite processed that I was going to be a mother…until now.

And in spite of everything that had happened last night, I was overjoyed. Here, my parents couldn't taint my happiness. It belonged to me and Jace. They could say what they wanted to say to us, do what they wanted to try to break us apart, but Jace and I were a family of our own.

I wasn't ungrateful enough to say that I didn't need my parents to live—I would always love them and want them in my life—but from now on, I was going to start putting my own family first. I needed to live for myself.

Making a split second decision, I finished the rest of my breakfast and went upstairs to get ready. I couldn't wait for Jace to get home to share with him about my recent development, so I was going to pay him a visit at his office instead.

One Hour Later:

Herondale Corp. was impressive—not that I wasn't aware of the fact. In most ways, it was similar to Morgenstern Enterprises, but unique in a way I couldn't quite pinpoint. But what baffled me was the realization that I had never once stepped foot into my husband's workplace until today…and we had been in a relationship with each other for nine years and married for five!

"Welcome to Herondale Corp. My name is Amatis Graymark. How may I assist you today, Ma'am?" The kind-looking woman sitting at the front desk greeted me.

"I'm here to see Mr Herondale," I said after clearing my throat. I stumbled forward while smoothing down my coat inconspicuously, still in awe of my current environment.

"Mr Herondale left over an hour ago for a golf meeting at Southampton," Amatis said with a motherly smile.

I felt my face screw itself into a frown. Jace golfing? Since when did the man ever play golf?

"Mr Herondale Jr. is in his office though, but unless you've a scheduled appointment with him, I'm afraid I can't send you up to meet him," Amatis continued.

I mentally smacked my palm against my forehead. "Yes, that's the Herondale I was looking for, actually. Jace," I clarified. "I'm his wife. Clarissa Herondale."

Amatis's eyes widened. "Oh, Mrs Herondale!" she said, sounding flustered. "I apologize for not recognizing who you were sooner."

I quickly waved off her apology. "Don't worry about it, Ms Graymark. But could you bring me up to see my husband? I'm here to surprise him."

"Of course, Ma'am. Right this way." Amatis quickly stood up and led me towards the elevator. Once we were inside, she pressed the button for the top floor. 30.

I smiled to myself as I absentmindedly hummed along to the tune of the elevator music. It was a classical piece by Bach, one which I've heard Jace play numerous times before on his grand piano. I rolled my eyes and shook my head a little in amusement. Figures it was something he listened to at work, too.

"Mr Herondale would be delighted to see you, Ma'am," Amatis remarked, probably just to make casual conversation. "He did seem a little down this morning."

I swallowed, my excitement dipping for a moment as I recalled the unpleasant night we had at my parents' house. If only life were simple…IF ONLY… "Well, with the news I have for him, I really hope he does feel better," I answered as I stroked my belly and gave Amatis a conspiratorial wink.

Her face lit up in understanding. "Oh! That is exciting news indeed!" she gushed.

I nodded with a blush. "It's all fairly new so I'd appreciate it if you keep it to yourself for now."

"Of course, Ma'am," Amatis grinned.

We arrived at Jace's floor sooner than I was prepared for, but at the same time, I was excited to see him. I know, I know. It's kind of ridiculous since we see each other every single day—and I wouldn't go far enough to label myself as the clingy wife—but still. I always looked forward to seeing Jace.

He was so focused on his task that he didn't even look up when Amatis knocked on his door and ushered me inside. "Mr Herondale, Mrs Herondale is here to see you." She gave me a polite smile before excusing herself and closing the door behind her.

Jace sighed but still didn't look up from his paperwork. I was mildly irritated by the fact that he was studiously ignoring my presence. What am I, chopped liver? (Oops, there goes the pregnancy hormones again).

Finally, he spoke up, "Yes, Mother? What do you need from me?" He glanced up and our eyes met, his betraying surprise and mine annoyance.

I raised both my eyebrows at him, since I was apparently incapable of raising just one. "Mother? Really, Jace?"

He spluttered for the first few times before finally managing a proper sentence. "Well, what did you expect? She said Mrs Herondale!"

"Am I not Mrs Herondale then?" I challenged him.

"Of course you are, baby. I never did say otherwise. It's just...you've never visited me at work before."

I shrugged. "I never quite found the incentive to pay you a visit until now."

"Incentive?"

"Reason," I corrected myself. Subconsciously locking the door behind me, I began striding towards my husband's desk. "Anyway, I was being serious when I said that I missed you. I really, really wanted to see you. And..." I dragged out the word while dramatically taking my time to unbutton my coat and revealing my outfit underneath. It wasn't risqué or anything, but the dress I wore clung tightly to my body, accentuating my growing bump. I rubbed it teasingly when I saw Jace's eyes widen. "Herondale Junior wanted to see Daddy today. He, or she, had a growth spurt overnight, and ta-da! Now you can really tell that I'm pregnant."

Jace let out a little laugh. He extended his hand and gestured for me to come closer. I sidled up to him and placed my hands on his shoulders; his immediately went to my hips, then slowly slid up until he was cupping the sides of my belly. "Wow," he breathed. "I really don't remember seeing this last night. That's kind of freaky...but amazing."

"Yeah, it is," I agreed softly.

Jace opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but he was interrupted by a sound neither of us had anticipated: my stomach.

And no, unless I was having an alien baby, I can deduce that it's nothing to do with the baby at all, but the fact that I was feeling hungry—again.

Jace looked up at me, amused. "Hungry?"

From the heat in my cheeks, I knew that my face was probably as red as my hair. "You think?"

"No need to look so flustered, love. I understand," he smirked amusedly at me. "You are eating for two, after all." Jace pulled out his cellphone and began scrolling through the food delivery app.

"Now, what strikes your fancy? Chinese? Italian? Mexican? Indian? Mediterranean?"

Hearing Jace list out the food options at random, I could have sworn my stomach grumbled again, though this time it wasn't nearly loud enough to catch my husband's attention. "Hmm, I don't know," I said, stroking my belly. "I think kofta and hummus sounds nice right about now…"

Jace chuckled. "Middle Eastern cuisine, it is…"

After a very hearty meal—as usual, my husband went a little overboard with the spending, not that I minded one bit; I'm not even exaggerating when I said that I finished everything—the two of us ended up lounging on the leather couch in Jace's office.

It was a nice change for once, just sitting there and basking in each other's presence…until Jace's office phone started ringing.

The pair of us let out a simultaneous groan before my husband reluctantly heaved himself off the couch and walked over to his desk to answer the phone.

I contemplated asking Jace if we could go home early and spend some more time with each other, but his souring expression and stern tone as he spoke into the receiver told me that none of that was happening. So I shoved those thoughts away, and opted for concern instead.

When Jace finally hung up, he looked angry. "Unbelievable," he muttered underneath his breath, along with several other words I couldn't make out.

"Is everything okay, honey?" I asked him.

He shook his head again and knelt down in front of me. "I just… I need to head over to the board room," he finally said.

"What is it?" I pressed as I ran my hands through his curls, trying to soothe him.

Jace sighed. "Your father's here," he explained reluctantly. "Said that it was urgent that I meet with him. A part of me just wants to call security and haul him out of here but—" He shrugged. "I don't know what I'm thinking, Clary."

Honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. My father had no business with either Jace or his father, so what was he doing on enemy territory? To spew more hurtful barbs at my husband? To damage our deteriorating father-daughter relationship even further? "Can I come with you?"

"I don't know if it's a good idea to put yourself in such stressful situations. We haven't even talked about last night, Clary. Are you sure you want to put yourself through another confrontation that has every potential of going wrong?"

"He's my father, Jace," I told him, the same thing I have for the last nine years. "I just want to know what he wants from you—from us, is all."

Jace nodded and planted a long kiss on my forehead as his callused hands cupped my cheeks. "Okay. Let's go see what your old man wants."

Quietly, we made our way towards the board room where my father was apparently waiting in.

I grasped Jace's hand tighter when I saw the man in question sitting at one of the chairs adjacent to the head of the table. He looked put together like always, but somehow, there was a certain haggardness to him that wasn't there before.

"Clarissa," Dad sounded surprised, "What are you doing here?"

I took the seat opposite my father while Jace sat at the head. "I think I should be the one asking you that question, Dad. This is my husband's company, after all," I said, emphasizing on the word 'husband'.

"Fair point, I suppose. Your mother used to do the same—visit me at work, I mean."

"Cut to the chase, Valentine. In case you've forgotten, you're on my property," Jace interrupted impatiently. "So let me ask you again. What. Do. You. Want?" He glared at my father, whose only response, strangely, was a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Jace looked at my father as if he had grown two heads. Frankly, I was doing the same thing, too. Did my father just apologize to my husband?

"I came here to apologize," Dad said in a clearer tone this time.

Jace let out a bitter laugh and I was immediately transported back to their argument from last night. "What are you trying to pull here, Valentine?" he demanded. "Look, I know you hate me and all, and that's fine. I hate your guts, too. But please! At least have some decency and respect for your daughter to not do this—whatever the hell this is—in front of her!"

"I am not trying anything, Jace," Dad said, stunning the both of us. Jace. He'd finally called Jace by his first name—not 'Herondale'. "The reason I'm here today is because of my daughter."

"Me?" I asked him unsurely.

Dad looked down, his expression bearing one of shame. "Honestly, I don't even recall how this feud with Stephen even started," he started to explain. "It had been going on for so long that I just…I couldn't put it behind me. I was blinded by it." He swallowed. "But I do know this. It has nothing to do with either of you."

"Tell me something, Dad. If I hadn't been visiting Jace today and we never ran into each other, would you have said the same thing to him?"

"Clarissa," Dad begged, "I know it seems far-fetched that I would have a change of heart overnight, but please, believe me. I'm sorry I let my pride get in the way of your happiness. I'm sorry it took me so long to finally see that. You, Clarissa, are far more important to me than a useless grudge." Dad held my gaze, and I saw that within the depths of his dark eyes, there was sincerity in what he was saying.

"What changed your mind?" Jace asked the question that had been burning on the tip of my tongue but couldn't articulate.

I figured Dad's answer even before he said it. It was obvious from the way his gaze darted to my stomach. "The baby," he said. "I realized yesterday that if I continued down this path of hatred, I would be hurting an innocent. That I wouldn't just be losing my daughter, but my only chance of knowing my first grandchild."

"Jon would have settled down eventually and given you Morgenstern grandchildren, you know," I told him. "But my baby is going to be a Herondale."

Dad smiled. "It's just a name, isn't it?"

"I could have told you that five years—hell, nine years ago," Jace muttered. "Bloody late you are to catch on, aren't you? Ow!" He flinched when I slapped his arm.

"Language," I hissed before returning my attention to my father. He looked at me with a hopeful expression, and though I knew he'd hurt me before, I couldn't turn him down. If my father was willing to change now, what kind of a person would I be to reject him? Better late than never, right?

"I forgive you, Dad."

No sooner than I'd said those words, I found myself being scooped up into my father's arms, and hearing his fevered whispers of thankyous in my ear. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, but this time, they were of happy ones. I had missed this, and God, was it a relief to finally have my father back on my side.

"I love you, Clarissa."

"Love you too, Daddy," I whispered back.

When our hug ended, Dad patted Jace on the back, the same way he used to do with my brother (not that Jace was my brother, ew). I smiled. "I know it's 'bloody late', as you would put it, but welcome to the family, son," he said.

Jace rolled his eyes but eventually gave in with a smile. "Yeah, thanks Dad."

"Dinner at our house. Saturday night?" Dad proposed. "I'm extending my invitation to your parents as well, Jace. I think it's about time we bury the hatchet."

"I'll let them know," my husband replied.

At the exact moment, the door opened, and lo and behold…a fuming Stephen Herondale, armed with a golf club, stepped into the room. Uh-oh.

"Or you can tell my dad yourself and bury the hatchet now," Jace amended, pulling me to safety.

"Morgenstern," Stephen growled.

"Herondale, I come in peace," Dad backed away with wide eyes. "Stephen! Put that damn golf stick down!"

A/N: So if you're an old reader, you would probably recognize this particular story as part of my one-shot series posted under my old account. As with most (if not ALL) of my stories, I've done a fair bit of tidying up to both the language and content, so you would definitely spot changes here and there. Note: Most of my stories will be rated K or T because I personally feel that they work just fine without pushing the boundaries of an M rating (unless, of course, they deal with some dark or sensitive issues), so there.

Completely unrelated side note though: Anyone here a fan of Star Wars? I'm TMI all the way, but I'm also a Star Wars geek!

~ Until then, my lovelies!