Ruthless Daddies (Reverse Harem Daddies)

18. Ivan

18

IVAN

T he footage plays in a loop on the monitor, grainy but clear enough to see everything that matters. Alice, walking down the hallway, her hips swaying as she turns her head, glancing over her shoulder. Nikolai and Dmitri follow her like this is the most natural thing in the world. They disappear into the same room. Her room.

My chest tightens as the time stamp at the bottom ticks by, hour after hour. None of them leave.

I clench my fists, leaning back in my chair as the screen flickers. It’s maddening—watching, knowing, not doing anything about it. But I can’t stop myself. I’ve tried. Tried to ignore it, to let it go, but the obsession has rooted itself deep, burrowing into me until it’s all I can think about.

I rewind the footage, watching the moment again. Alice, slipping through her door, a fleeting glance over her shoulder. Nikolai close behind, his hand brushing her back, followed by Dmitri with that damn smug look on his face. I feel my teeth grind as the screen goes dark once more, signaling the end of the clip.

They’re all together in there. For hours. Sometimes the entire night. My brothers, with her.

The thought alone makes me want to punch something. Or someone.

I know what they’re doing. I’m not naive, and I’m certainly not blind. Both of them touching her, kissing her, taking what should never have been theirs to take.

I tell myself not to care. It’s none of my business. She’s just the nanny. But I can’t stop myself from watching.

I slam my fist against the desk, the sound reverberating through the room. It doesn’t help. The fire inside me only grows hotter, more consuming.

She’s mine.

The thought is irrational, dangerous, but it pulses through me with every beat of my heart. I’ve been careful to keep my distance, to maintain control, but Alice makes that impossible. Every time she enters the room, her presence fills the space, her scent lingering long after she’s gone.

I can’t get her out of my head.

It’s maddening.

I run a hand over my face, trying to push the image away, but it lingers. I close the laptop with a snap and push back from the desk, pacing the room.

This is ridiculous. I’m acting like a jealous fool, obsessing over something that doesn’t belong to me. Something that can’t belong to me.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it?

She should belong to me.

The thought hits me hard, and I stop pacing, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as I stare at the blank wall. I’ve spent my life mastering control—of my emotions, my actions, my entire world. But Alice is chaos. She’s everything I can’t have, and yet she’s the only thing I want.

The door creaks open behind me, and I turn sharply, my heart pounding. But it’s not Alice—it’s Alexei.

“You look like hell,” he says, his voice dry.

“Thanks,” I mutter, sinking back into my chair.

Alexei’s eyes flick to the closed laptop, his expression unreadable. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re lying,” my uncle replies. He knows me inside and out. It’s a blessing and it’s a curse.

“You want my advice?” Alexei continues, leaning against the desk. “Either let her go or claim her. But this?” He gestures to me. “This isn’t sustainable. Not for you. And definitely not for her.”

“You’re imagining things, old man,” I say coldly, standing and crossing my arms over my chest. “There’s nothing to claim. She’s the nanny, Alexei. That’s all.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “You can tell yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, but I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’re not as subtle as you think, Ivan.”

I turn back to him, my frustration flaring. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply?—”

“I’m not implying anything,” he interrupts, his voice calm but pointed. “I’m stating facts. You’re distracted, you’re angry, and it’s all because of her. You might not admit it, but I’ve known you long enough to see it.”

His words hit harder than I want to admit, and for a moment, I wonder just how much he’s figured out. Does he know about Alice and Dmitri? About Nikolai?

But Alexei doesn’t bring it up, and neither do I.

The morning is cool and quiet, sunlight streaming through the windows and spilling over the polished floors. I’m in the dining room, my coffee untouched in front of me as I sift through the latest security reports. It’s routine, something I do every morning, but today my mind isn’t on the papers in my hands.

It’s on Alice.

What is happening to me? I haven’t felt this way since…no, this is different from Elena. We had an arranged marriage, and I came to love her eventually. I liked the stability she brought me, the comfort. None of that is true for Alice.

Her name was the first thing I memorized when I saw her application. Alice Parker. Twenty-four years old. Born in Chicago but raised in the suburbs of upstate New York. She graduated college with a degree in early childhood education. Her parents are divorced, her mother remarried to some businessman out in The Hamptons. Her father? A mid-level accountant, struggling to keep up with alimony payments.

Alice worked her way through college, juggling two part-time jobs—one at a daycare and another as a waitress in a small diner.

I know so much about her, but I don’t know her at all.

And then she walks in.

Alice.

She’s wearing a soft yellow blouse that makes her hair glow in the morning light.

I steel myself, focusing on the coffee cup in front of me, pretending not to notice as she approaches.

“Good morning, Ivan,” she says softly, her voice gentle.

I grunt in response, refusing to look up. I tell myself it’s better this way. If I keep my distance, maybe I can get her out of my head.

She hesitates, and then her voice comes again, a little stronger this time. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

Her tone is cautious, like she’s afraid of setting me off. It only fuels the storm brewing inside me. Why does she have this effect on me? Why does everything she does feel like it’s clawing its way under my skin?

“Not now, Alice,” I say curtly, keeping my eyes fixed on the table.

“It won’t take long.” She steps closer. “It’s about Luka and Mila. I just thought?—”

I slam the coffee cup down harder than I intend, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “I said not now,” I snap, my voice harsher than it should be. “Do you ever stop? Always prying, always thinking you know better. You’re just the nanny, Alice. Know your place.”

The words hang in the air like a slap, and the second they’re out of my mouth, I know I’ve gone too far.

Alice stiffens, her eyes wide, her lips parting as if she’s going to say something. But she doesn’t. Instead, she turns on her heel and walks away quickly, her head down. I catch the glint of tears in her eyes before she disappears down the hall, and my stomach twists.

Damn it.

I sit back heavily, dragging a hand over my face. The bitter taste of regret is instant, sharper than the coffee. I didn’t mean it—not like that. I was angry, frustrated, and I took it out on her. I let my emotions get the better of me, and now I’ve hurt her.

I sit there for a few moments, staring into my now-cold coffee.

I stand, shoving my chair back with more force than necessary. My pride tells me to let it go, to give her space and let things blow over. But the memory of her tear-filled eyes gnaws at me, the way she didn’t even argue back, just walked away as if my words had crushed something inside her.

I can’t leave it like this.

I find myself searching the house, my steps echoing in the quiet hallways. The staff glance at me as I pass, but no one says a word. I check the playroom, the library, even the garden, but there’s no sign of her. It’s only when I pass by the second-floor balcony that I catch a glimpse of her figure through the open doors.

She’s standing at the railing, her back to me, her head bowed as she hides her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake faintly, and the sight sends a fresh wave of regret crashing over me.

I step outside, the cool breeze biting against my skin as I approach her. My footsteps are soft, hesitant, but she hears me anyway. Her back stiffens, but she doesn’t turn around.

“Alice,” I say quietly, my voice softer than I’ve ever used with her.

She doesn’t respond, her hands still pressed to her face.

I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair as I step closer. “I…I’m sorry,” I say, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I didn’t mean it.”

Still, she doesn’t turn.

I lean against the railing beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her presence but not enough to crowd her. “Look, I’m not good at this,” I admit, my voice rough. “I’m not good with people, with emotions, with…anything that isn’t control. And you?—”

I pause, the words catching in my throat. “You make me lose control, Alice.”

That gets her attention. She lowers her hands slowly, though her gaze remains fixed on the horizon. “I wasn’t trying to,” she says softly, her voice trembling.

“I know,” I reply, my tone earnest. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I don’t know how to handle you, Alice. And I hate that I hurt you.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, but she still doesn’t look at me. I take a deep breath, deciding to risk everything. “You’ve turned my world upside down,” I say, my voice low. “From the moment you walked into this house, nothing’s been the same. And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Her head turns, just slightly, and I catch the glimmer of her eyes as she finally looks at me.

“I thought you hated me,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hate you?” I shake my head, my chest tightening. “No, Alice. I could never hate you. I just…don’t know how to handle what you make me feel.”

“Ivan…” she starts, reaching for me, but she pulls back at the last second. All I want to do is close the distance between us.

“It’s difficult for me to open up,” I admit, my voice quieter than usual. The admission feels foreign, like it’s coming from someone else entirely. I don’t do this. I don’t let people in. But with Alice, it feels inevitable, like trying to hold back a tide that’s already risen too high.

She looks at me, her green eyes searching. “Why is it difficult for you?”

I glance away, gripping the balcony railing.

“It just is. It’s how I was raised, how I’ve survived. Showing weakness…it wasn’t an option.”

Alice nods, not pushing further, but her silence invites me to keep talking.

“It’s not just that, though,” I continue, almost surprising myself. “I’ve seen what happens when you let people get too close. When you care too much. You lose them. Or worse, they lose you.”

Her brows knit together, and she hesitates before asking, “Is that what happened with Elena?”

“Yes,” I say simply.

Alice leans against the railing, her head tilted slightly. “How…how did she die? I heard it was an accident, but—” She stops, gazing at me.

I know she doesn’t have bad intentions; this isn’t gossip for her, she simply wants to know.

“It was a car accident,” I say. “She was on her way to visit her parents. It was late, and the roads were icy and she lost control. By the time I got the call, she was already gone.”

Alice’s hand covers her mouth, her eyes wide with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Ivan.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “She didn’t deserve it. She was…good. Kind. She deserved better.”

“You really loved her, didn’t you?” Alice asks softly.

I don’t answer immediately. Instead, my mind drifts back to Elena. She was everything I thought I wanted, everything I thought I should want.

But there was always something missing.

No matter how hard I tried to love her—and I did try—there was a distance between us I could never close. She was kind, yes, but she always seemed distracted, like her mind was somewhere else, somewhere I couldn’t reach. I told myself it was just her nature, that she was private, reserved. But deep down, I always knew it was more than that.

I never asked her about it. I never pushed. I thought that if I gave her time, gave her space, she’d come to me. That we’d find each other in the way we were supposed to.

But we never did.

And then she was gone, and all I was left with were questions I’d never get answers to.

I pull myself back to the present, forcing those thoughts away. Alice is still watching me, her expression soft but expectant, waiting for my answer.

“Yes,” I say finally, my voice quiet but firm. “I did.”

“She must have been really special,” she says softly.

“She was,” I reply, though the words feel hollow. Elena was special, but not in the way Alice seems to think. She wasn’t my great love, my once-in-a-lifetime connection.

And that’s not even the scariest part. It’s the fact that I might be falling for Alice.

I take her hand and start leading her away from the balcony.

“Ivan,” she starts. “Where are we going?”

I don’t reply, nor do I look at her till I reach my room. The click of the lock echoes in the quiet, and for a moment, I just stand there, staring at her. She looks small in the dim light, her arms crossed like she’s trying to shield herself from me, or maybe from whatever is happening between us.

I shouldn’t have brought her here. This is a mistake.

But I can’t stop myself. Not tonight.

She shifts under my gaze, biting her lip as she glances around the room. “This is the first time I’ve seen your room,” she says, her voice soft.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “And it’s probably the last time you should,” I reply, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, Alice.”

“Then why did you bring me here?” she asks, her eyes locking with mine.

The question punches through me. Why did I bring her here? Because I can’t stop thinking about her. Because the thought of her with Dmitri or Nikolai drives me mad. Because no matter how much I tell myself I need to stay away, I keep finding myself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

I step closer, until there’s barely any space between us. Her scent surrounds me—soft, sweet, intoxicating. I raise a hand, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and she shivers under my touch. “Because I can’t help myself,” I admit, my voice low and rough. “You get under my skin, Alice. You make me…lose control.”

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, I think she might pull away. But then she tilts her chin up, her eyes searching mine. “Maybe I don’t want you to stay in control,” she whispers.

It’s all the permission I need. I close the distance between us, my lips crashing against hers. The kiss is hard, desperate, years of restraint and pent-up frustration spilling out all at once. She moans softly, her hands gripping the front of my shirt as she presses against me.

I can’t think. I can’t breathe. All I can do is feel—the softness of her lips, the warmth of her body, the way she melts into me like she belongs there.

I back her up toward the bed, my hands sliding down to her hips. She gasps when the backs of her knees hit the mattress, and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, my tongue tangling with hers. The sound she makes—half moan, half sigh—drives me insane.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmur against her lips, my voice trembling. “If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

She shakes her head, her fingers threading through my hair as she pulls me closer. “Don’t stop,” she breathes.

I push her down onto the bed, covering her body with mine. My hands move over her, pulling her shirt up and over her head, revealing soft, pale skin that practically begs to be touched. My lips follow the path of my hands, kissing her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder. She arches beneath me, her breaths coming faster as I work my way lower.

Her hands tug at my shirt, and I help her pull it off, the fabric landing somewhere on the floor. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and dark with desire, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“God, Alice,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her again, slower this time, savoring every second. “You’re going to destroy me.”

Her fingers trail down my chest, exploring every inch of bare skin before finding the waistband of my pants. Her touch is tentative at first, but as I groan against her lips, she grows bolder, unbuttoning and sliding them down.

We move together like we’ve done this a hundred times, like this is where we were always meant to end up. My hands slip beneath her waistband, pulling her shorts down and leaving her bare beneath me. She trembles as I trail kisses down her stomach, her hips, her thighs, and the sounds she makes—the way she calls my name—are enough to unravel me completely.

I pull back just enough to look at her, my hand sliding up her leg. “Are you sure?” I ask, my voice low and hoarse.

Her answer comes in the form of a soft smile and a whispered “Yes.”

I help her, shoving my pants down and kicking them off, my cock springing free, thick and hard.

Her gaze drops, and I catch the way her lips part, the faint hitch in her breath as she looks at me. It’s a reaction I’ll never get tired of.

I lower myself over her, my lips finding hers again as I press my hips against hers, letting her feel just how much I want her. She moans into my mouth, her hands gripping my shoulders as she arches up to meet me.

“Please, Ivan,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

The sound of her begging for me undoes what little restraint I have left. I trail kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, and to her breasts. I take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue over the hardened peak, while my hand kneads the other. Her back arches, her fingers tangling in my hair as she cries out softly.

I switch to the other breast, biting gently before soothing the spot with my tongue. My other hand slides down her body, brushing over her stomach and finding her wet heat.

“You’re so ready for me,” I murmur against her skin, sliding a finger inside her. She’s so tight, so warm, and the way she clenches around me makes my cock ache with need.

She whimpers, her hips bucking against my hand. “Ivan, please,” she breathes.

I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock brushing against her slick folds. The sensation is almost too much, and I groan, gripping her hips to steady myself.

“Tell me you want this,” I say, my voice low and strained.

“I want this,” she whispers, her eyes locking with mine. “I want you.”

I push into her slowly, inch by inch, and the way she gasps, the way her nails dig into my shoulders, makes it impossible to hold back. Once I’m fully inside her, I pause, savoring the feel of her surrounding me.

“You feel so perfect,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss her again.

She moves her hips, urging me on, and I begin to thrust, slow and deep at first. Her moans grow louder with every movement, her body meeting mine perfectly. I reach down, lifting one of her legs to hook it over my hip, and the new angle makes her cry out, her hands clutching at me desperately.

“You take me so well,” I growl, my pace quickening as I lose myself in her.

She gasps as I thrust deeper, her nails digging into my shoulders as she clings to me. Her body tightens around me, and I groan, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

“Ivan, I’m so close,” she says, her voice breaking on a moan.

I lower my hand to where we’re joined, my thumb brushing over her clit in slow, deliberate circles. Her body jolts, her cries growing louder as I bring her closer and closer to the edge.

She shatters beneath me, her body trembling as she comes undone.

The sight, the sound, the feel of her climaxing around me sends me over the edge. My movements grow erratic, my breath ragged as pleasure crashes through me. I groan her name, burying my face in her neck as I empty myself inside her.

We collapse together, our bodies tangled, our breaths mingling as we try to catch up with reality. I hold her close, my hand brushing through her hair, and for the first time in a long time, I feel whole.