Ruthless Daddies (Reverse Harem Daddies)

9. Alice

9

ALICE

I t’s been days since the night at the club, and to my surprise, Ivan hasn’t said a word about it.

But the quiet has only made my curiosity grow. Especially about them —Ivan, Dmitri, and Nikolai. The Morozovs. The more I’m around them, the more questions I have, and no one seems particularly eager to answer them. Except maybe Nikolai.

Which is why I’m now walking through the grand hallways of this mansion, heading toward his study. One of the maids pointed me in the right direction but warned me against disturbing him, saying something about how “Mr. Nikolai doesn’t like interruptions.” I probably should have listened, but curiosity has a way of making me reckless.

The study door is made of dark oak, its surface intricately carved with designs I don’t recognize. I take a deep breath, raise my hand, and knock firmly.

“Come in,” his voice calls out from the other side. I push the door open and step inside.

The study is nothing like I expected. The walls are lined with bookshelves, every inch of them crammed with leather-bound volumes that look like they belong in a museum. Dark wood dominates the space—the shelves, the floors, even the massive desk that sits near the window, papers and folders spread across it in a chaotic but somehow deliberate mess.

The window behind the desk lets in just enough light to highlight the faint dust motes floating in the air. A large armchair sits to the side, near a smaller table stacked with what looks like ledgers and an abandoned glass of amber liquid.

Nikolai is seated behind the desk, leaning back in his chair, one hand draped over the armrest, the other twirling a pen between his fingers. Highlights in his dark hair catch the light, his brown eyes lifting to meet mine as a smile spreads across his face.

“Well, well,” he says, setting the pen down. “What an unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe this visit?”

I hesitate in the doorway, suddenly aware of how small I feel in this room, under his gaze. “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” I say quickly. “The maid said?—”

He cuts me off with a wave of his hand, leaning forward now, his smile turning warm, almost amused. “Don’t worry about what the maid said. I don’t mind being disturbed by you .”

I blink, caught off guard by the easy charm in his voice. He motions to one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Come, sit. If I knew I’d be having company, I’d have tidied up a bit.”

I step inside cautiously, taking the seat he offers. The leather creaks faintly under me, and I glance around again, noting the faint clutter on the desk—the pens, papers, and a set of brass keys that look like they could open something important.

“This room,” he says, leaning back again and gesturing around us, “is one of the few in the house where I actually get any peace. Though I must admit, your presence improves it considerably.”

I smile faintly, not sure how to respond to that. “It’s a beautiful study,” I say, meaning it. “I didn’t expect something like this.”

“Oh, don’t let the books fool you,” he says with a chuckle. “I probably haven’t read half of them. They’re mostly for show.” He pauses, his brown eyes gleaming with amusement. “Now, Ivan’s office—that’s the real forbidden room. You’d need a battering ram to get through that door without his permission.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “And Dmitri?”

At that, Nikolai bursts out laughing, the sound rich and genuine. “Ah, Dmitri,” he says, shaking his head. “You know, I don’t even know where he keeps his office. For all I know, he’s set up shop in some secret bunker under the house. The man thrives on mystery.”

I laugh. That seems like an accurate description of his brothers.

“Nikolai,” I say softly, testing the waters. “I’ve been meaning to ask…would it be okay if I took Mila and Luka to the park nearby? It’s just a few blocks away.”

His easy grin falters for the first time, replaced by something more serious. He sits up straighter, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk. “The park?” he repeats, his tone even but laced with hesitation. “Alice, this family doesn’t exactly…exist without complications. Taking them outside our walls isn’t as simple as it sounds.”

“It’s close,” I press, my voice earnest. “I just think it would be good for them to get out for a bit. Luka’s so guarded, and Mila loves being outdoors. They’d have fun, and I’ll be with them the whole time.”

“We have a big garden. What difference does it make?”

“They need to socialize with children their own age,” I say. “They’ll have a hard time fitting in once they start going to school.”

“Ivan wouldn’t like it,” he says.

“You spend more time with them than him,” I say. “He won’t know.”

He hesitates, his brown eyes searching mine, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say no. But then I stand, moving closer, my heart pounding as I step into his space. “I’ll be careful,” I plead, looking up at him. “I promise.”

Something flickers in his expression, a hint of conflict, before he lets out a soft sigh. “Fine,” he says finally, though his tone is laced with reluctance. “But I’m coming with you, and so are a few of our people. And we’re telling my brother. He’ll have my head if I take his children out of grounds without telling him. No arguments.”

I blink, surprised by his concession, and before I can stop myself, I throw my arms around him in a quick hug. “Thank you,” I murmur, the words spilling out without thought.

The moment I realize what I’ve done, I pull back, embarrassed. “Sorry, I?—”

But before I can step away completely, his hands find my waist, holding me still for a fraction of a second too long. His touch is warm, firm, and the way his fingers press against my sides sends a spark of something unfamiliar rushing through me. When he finally lets go, I step back quickly, my cheeks burning.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, his smile returning, though there’s something darker in his gaze now. “But remember, Alice, I’m serious about the precautions.”

I nod, unable to meet his eyes, my thoughts a tangled mess. Dmitri, now Nikolai…what is wrong with me? I can’t be thinking about all of them like this. It’s insane. Unprofessional. And yet…

I shake the thought away as Nikolai stands, gesturing for me to follow him. We walk out of the study together, the tension still thick between us. As we head toward the main hall, I glance at him hesitantly.

“Nikolai,” I start, my voice cautious. “Who was that woman?”

He chuckles, the sound dry and humorless. “Svetlana,” he says, shaking his head. “She’s Ivan’s mistake. A woman he got involved with after Elena died. His…girlfriend, I suppose, though she never deserved the title. More of a mistress, really.”

I bite my lip, unsure if I should press further, but the curiosity gnaws at me. “Why is she still around?”

“Because she doesn’t know how to stay gone,” he says simply, his tone edged with irritation. “She’s like a weed. She’s been trying to worm her way back into Ivan’s life ever since he cut her off, but he won’t have it. She’s nothing more than a reminder of a time he’d rather forget.”

The bitterness in his voice surprises me, and I glance up at him. “Do you hate her?”

“Hate?” He looks at me, his smile returning, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “No. Hate’s a strong word. But I don’t like what she brings out in my brother. And I don’t like the way she looked at you.”

The last part is said softer, almost like an afterthought, but it makes my heart skip a beat. “Me?” I ask, feigning innocence.

Nikolai stops, turning to face me fully. His gaze is sharp, intense. “Yes, you. Svetlana doesn’t like anyone she sees as a threat, and you, Alice, are new. Different. That makes you a target in her eyes.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders. “I’ll keep my distance,” I say quietly.

“Good,” he says, his smile softening just a little. “But don’t worry too much. She may bark, but she knows better than to bite.

The drive to the park is quiet, tension riding in the car as Nikolai keeps a watchful eye on the children and the surrounding streets. I sit beside Mila and Luka, who seem more excited than I’ve seen them in days. Mila chatters away, asking me about what games we’ll play and whether she can stay on the swings forever, while Luka stays quiet, staring out the window, but I can see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

When we pull up to the park, I see the children’s faces light up. Poor kids, they have acres and acres of lands to play in, but no real friends.

There are a few families scattered around—a couple of kids playing tag, a group gathered near the jungle gym, and a few parents chatting by the benches. It’s peaceful, the kind of normalcy Mila and Luka probably don’t get enough of.

The car door opens, and Nikolai steps out first, scanning the area with sharp eyes. Two other men follow, part of the ever-present security detail that never seems far from the Morozovs. They’re not as overtly intimidating as Nikolai or Ivan, but their broad shoulders and silent stances are enough to draw attention.

As I step out with the children, I glance at Nikolai, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “I think…maybe you and the others should keep a bit of distance,” I say carefully, knowing he won’t like it.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression hardening. “Distance?”

“It’s just…” I glance toward the other parents, who are already stealing curious glances at the car and the men stepping out. “We want Mila and Luka to socialize, right? If people see you and the others standing there like bodyguards, it might make them uncomfortable. It’s a park. The whole point is for the kids to feel normal, at least for a little while.”

Nikolai stares at me for a moment, his jaw tightening. I can tell he wants to argue, but then his gaze shifts to Mila, who’s tugging on my hand, her excitement barely contained, and Luka, who looks more curious than he usually does about his surroundings.

“Fine,” he says at last, his voice clipped. “But we’re not going far.”

I nod, grateful. “Thank you.”

He steps aside, motioning for me to go ahead, and I take Mila’s and Luka’s hands, leading them toward the playground. I can feel Nikolai’s eyes on me the entire way, and I know he’s already calculating the best vantage point, the places he can watch from without drawing too much attention.

As we approach the playground, Mila lets go of my hand, running toward the swings with an excited squeal. Luka hesitates, looking up at me as if seeking permission, and I give him a small nod. “Go ahead,” I say softly. “Have fun.”

He walks off slowly, more reserved than Mila, but he heads toward the group of kids playing near the jungle gym, and I take that as a win.

I find a bench nearby, sitting down with a clear view of the playground. The sun is warm, and the sound of laughter makes me smile. I love kids, always have. I guess that’s one of the reasons I graduated in education. I always wanted to be a teacher, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do once I save enough money.

Mila is already making friends, taking turns pushing and being pushed on the swing.

Luka, meanwhile, has joined a small group of boys climbing the jungle gym. He’s not laughing yet, but he’s talking, and that’s more than I’d hoped for.

It’s a good day.

I glance over my shoulder and spot Nikolai and the other men standing a little way off, blending in as best they can. Nikolai catches my eye, his expression unreadable, but I give him a small smile, hoping he can see that this was the right decision. He doesn’t smile back, but his stance relaxes ever so slightly, and that feels like progress.

I’m watching Mila giggle as she swings higher and higher when something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. Luka, who had been sitting atop the jungle gym moments ago, is now on the far side of the playground, being led by another boy—slightly older, maybe eight or nine—toward the edge of the park.

My brow furrows, a strange sense of unease creeping into my chest. I rise slowly from the bench, my eyes scanning for Nikolai, but he’s still standing at a distance, watching the other side of the playground. When I turn back, I see a man standing just beyond the park boundary, near the tree line. He’s dressed too neatly for the park—dark pants, a pressed shirt—and something about the way he stands, just far enough out of view, makes my stomach churn.

And then I see him crouch, talking to Luka, his hand resting lightly on the boy’s shoulder.

My heart drops.

Luka looks hesitant, glancing back toward the playground, but the man says something to him, his face calm and smiling, and starts to lead him further away. Something about the scene feels off, wrong, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m moving—running.

“Luka!” I scream, my voice cutting through the playground noise like a siren.

Everything slows as I see the man turn, his face twisting with a mixture of surprise and irritation. He pulls Luka closer, his grip tightening on the boy’s arm as he tries to move faster. Luka struggles now, his eyes wide with fear as he looks back at me.

I don’t think—I just run. My legs pump harder, my lungs burning as I sprint across the playground, weaving through the chaos of children and panicked parents.

“Luka!” I scream again, my voice breaking. “Stop! Let him go!”

The man’s calm demeanor shatters, and suddenly, he pulls out a gun.

The sight of it freezes the world for a split second. Parents scream, children scatter, and my body moves on pure instinct, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Luka’s terrified face is all I can see.

I reach them just as the man raises the gun, grabbing Luka’s other arm and yanking him toward me with everything I have. The force pulls him out of the man’s grip, but the stranger reacts fast, shoving me hard. I stumble, hitting the ground, but I don’t let go of Luka, pulling him behind me, shielding him with my body as the man steps closer.

There’s shouting now, a mix of voices—panic, fear, and then a deeper, familiar voice cutting through the chaos.

Nikolai.

He’s running toward us, his face twisted with rage, and I see him draw his own gun, raising it toward the man. The stranger doesn’t hesitate. He fires.

The crack of the shot splits the air, and Nikolai jerks to the side, his arm snapping back. He staggers but doesn’t go down, quickly firing back instead. The man curses, ducking behind a tree, and I take the opportunity to grab Luka, pulling him into my arms as I scramble backward, desperate to get away from the gunfire.

Nikolai keeps advancing, his injured arm hanging at his side, blood staining his shirt. His expression is pure fury, his movements calculated even as the pain slows him down. Another shot rings out, this one missing by inches as he ducks and returns fire, his aim sharp and deliberate.

“Alice, get Luka out of here!” he shouts, his voice raw.

But I can’t move. My arms are wrapped tightly around Luka, his small body trembling against mine, and my mind races, trying to figure out how to get him to safety without drawing more attention. My eyes dart to the playground, where parents are still scrambling to gather their children, the scene a blur of chaos.

Then I feel a hand on my shoulder, strong and steady, and I look up to see one of Nikolai’s men standing over me, his face grim. “I’ve got him,” he says, pulling Luka from my arms and scooping him up with ease. “Go. Now.”

I hesitate, torn between staying and running, but another shot rings out, and the decision is made for me. I push myself to my feet, adrenaline propelling me forward as I follow them toward the car, glancing back over my shoulder to see Nikolai pressing forward, his movements relentless despite the blood dripping from his arm.

By the time we reach the car, my chest is heaving, my limbs shaking. Luka is safe, clinging to the man who carried him, his face buried in his shoulder. I can barely process what just happened, my mind still spinning as I watch Nikolai disappearing into the tree line in the distance. I can only pray that he remains safe.