Ruthless Daddies (Reverse Harem Daddies)

2. Ivan

2

IVAN

I watch Alice as she stands before me, still soaked to the bone, her damp clothes clinging to her curves in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

I clear my throat, forcing my gaze to remain on her face. I’m the one interviewing her, hiring her, not… But my eyes betray me, tracing the droplets of water sliding down her neck, lingering over the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath.

Water clings to every inch of her, turning her dress almost sheer. Her dark hair, dripping wet, frames her face, and her green eyes—sharp but soft, determined—meet mine with a steadiness that surprises me. She doesn’t look away, even with my gaze sweeping over her, lingering on the delicate curve of her collarbone and the outline of her breasts.

Damn it, Ivan. Get a grip. I mentally shake myself, a smolder of heat settling in my chest, something I haven’t felt in a long time.

“Follow me, Miss Parker,” I say, turning sharply and leading her into the house. I catch the faint sound of her footsteps behind me, her wet shoes leaving small puddles on the marble floors.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I’m not sure if I crossed a line or…” She trails off.

I can still feel the heat simmering under my skin, my thoughts straying where they shouldn’t as I glance over my shoulder. Her soaked dress clings to her like a second skin, the fabric tracing the curve of her hips.

“No need to apologize,” I say.

I take a breath, deliberately steadying myself, and my gaze falls on a portrait hanging in the hallway just behind her. Elena’s face stares back at me, frozen in time. My stomach twists with the familiar pang of guilt, the memory of her last days haunting me, reminding me of the promises I made.

Pull yourself together.

“Alice,” I say. “I’d like to offer you the position.”

Her eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across her face. “Really?”

“Yes,” I say.

“The job is full-time,” I continue, leaning against the edge of the desk, keeping my expression neutral. “It requires you to live here, in the house, with the family. You’d have your own room, of course, close to the children’s suite.”

She hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. “Live…in?”

“Yes,” I reply. “It’s a condition of the job.” I pause, gauging her reaction.

I understand, of course; most people wouldn’t relish the idea of being tied down like this. Yet, as she pauses, I feel an irrational prickle of worry.

“You’ll have your own space,” I add. “A private suite with everything you’ll need. Meals and other necessities are taken care of, naturally. The children are young, but they’re bright and energetic. You’ve already met Mila.”

A faint smile crosses her face, the first hint of softness since she dried off a little. “Yes, she’s lovely.”

“And Luka is her twin. They’re close and can be a handful,” I say, aware that I sound more formal than usual. Maybe even detached. It’s a reflex, a habit after years of balancing family and business with the Bratva.

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Morozov.” Her voice is soft, unwavering.

“Ivan,” I correct, surprising myself as much as her. I never do this—open up to strangers, let alone a new employee. But something about her—this unusual girl with fire in her gaze, who didn’t hesitate for a second to dive into a pool to save a child she’s just met—compels me to break my own rules. “Call me Ivan.”

She hesitates, then nods. “Ivan,” she echoes.

I let myself hold her gaze a second longer than I should, and for a heartbeat, we’re just standing, inches apart, her breath mingling with mine.

I take a step back, clearing my throat again. “If you’re interested, we’ll need you to start immediately. The children could use the stability.”

She hesitates again, and I sense her inner conflict. “It’s…it’s a big commitment,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I could use the work.”

A wave of relief washes over me, more powerful than I’d like to admit.

“Yes, I imagine so,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. “If you accept, we’ll provide everything you need.”

She takes a deep breath, then nods, that same flicker of determination returning to her eyes. “I accept. When do I start?”

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Now,” I reply, motioning her further into the house. “Welcome to the family, Miss Parker.”

I take another look at her—she’s still dripping wet, her dress clinging to her skin and leaving a small puddle on the polished floor beneath her. I almost feel guilty for keeping her like this, but before I can say anything, I spot Marta waiting discreetly near the hallway entrance.

“Marta,” I call, keeping my tone measured, “see that Miss Parker is taken care of. Make sure she has a blanket or a towel. She’ll be staying with us.”

Marta, always quick and efficient, gives a brief nod. “Of course, sir.” She steps forward, offering Alice a soft, oversized towel with one hand while gesturing for her to follow with the other.

“Thank you,” Alice murmurs, clutching the towel and wrapping it around herself, looking smaller yet somehow even more resolute as she pulls it close.

“Marta will show you to your suite once you’re ready. Take your time, Miss Parker,” I say.

Alice gives me a small, appreciative nod, her eyes meeting mine for just a moment. Then, with a quiet “thank you,” she follows Marta, disappearing down the hallway, her footsteps softening as she moves further away.

Unmoving, I watch her retreating form for a moment, feeling a shift. She isn’t exactly a typical candidate. She proved that within moments of stepping onto our grounds.

I head toward my office, trying to focus on the day’s agenda, but my mind keeps returning to her.

I had her background checked while I was out. She doesn’t have any experience that others before her did, not even an iota of it. But I saw her expression of pure determination as she pulled Mila from the pool, the way she held the little girl close, every muscle in her body prepared to protect her. It is the kind of loyalty and instinct I need in this household.

As much as I may pretend otherwise, our family is under constant pressure—business, rivals, personal matters that demand control and vigilance. That’s why discretion, caution, and loyalty are not optional.

Leaning back in my chair, I sift through recent intel reports on our enemies’ movements. Vadim, our biggest competitor in the city, has made small but provocative encroachments on our business in recent weeks, all warning signs that his aggression may be escalating. I won’t allow him—or anyone—to compromise what’s mine.

I pick up my phone, scrolling to a message from one of my contacts. The report details surveillance on Vadim’s recent activities, including his attempts to undermine our family’s standing. Nothing unexpected, but there’s an edge to his movements that has me on alert. Vadim has been erratic since Elena…left us.

Just as I feel the chill of old memories clawing up, I hear a soft knock at the door.

I glance up to find Marta. She stands at the threshold, her face as unreadable as ever. “Miss Parker is settled, sir,” she says. “Would you like me to review her duties and house expectations with her, or will you be overseeing that yourself?”

I consider this, my gaze flickering to the hallway. “I’ll handle it.”

Marta gives a brisk nod and leaves, and I take a steadying breath, standing and making my way toward the guest wing. If Alice is to join our family and care for my children, she needs to understand exactly what that entails.

I find her standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows in her suite. She has changed into a loose T-shirt and slacks. Her damp hair tumbles over her shoulders, and she’s looking out at the sprawling garden below.

As I step inside, she turns, clearly startled.

“Mr. Morozov—” She catches herself, then corrects, “Ivan.”

I nod approvingly, closing the door behind me. “I wanted to make sure you understand the expectations here.”

“Of course.”

I cross the room, stopping a few feet away, close enough to see her take a small, nervous breath, and yet she doesn’t look away. “This isn’t a simple nanny position, Alice. The children are everything to me, and this household has rules that must be respected. You’ll find that privacy is extremely valued here. We don’t tolerate interference, and our security protocols are absolute. You’ll be expected to adhere to them without question.”

She nods again, absorbing my words. There’s a strength in her gaze that I’m beginning to admire. “I understand, and I don’t have a problem with any of that. I’ll keep things private.”

“Good.” I glance at her, considering. “You’ll be with the children from morning until they go to bed, handling meals, activities, and any tutoring needs. I expect you’ll be resourceful—Mila and Luka respond best to someone who engages them fully. They’re clever, sometimes challenging, but you’ll manage.” I pause, watching her expression.

Her lips curve slightly. “I can handle that. I love a good challenge.”

Something in her tone, her slight smirk, sparks something within me—a desire that rises, sudden and undeniable. I turn away, trying to regain control, only to catch her reflection in the glass, her damp skin glistening in the soft light of the room.

“Good,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “As I mentioned, this is a live-in position. You’ll stay here, on-site, to be available to the children. It may require some…flexibility on your part.”

“Flexible. Right.” Her lips twitch in a subtle, almost teasing smile, and I feel my jaw tighten.

“Yes,” I say, taking a step back to keep some distance between us, though I can still feel the pull. “If this arrangement is acceptable to you, then I’ll have Marta finalize the details.”

She nods, but her gaze lingers on me, thoughtful. “It’s more than acceptable. I’m…grateful for the opportunity.”

As she says this, I see the resolve in her eyes falter, just a little. I wonder if she realizes how rare it is for someone to gain this kind of access to our family. And part of me—an irrational, foolish part—is secretly hoping she’ll last longer than the others did.