Ruthless Daddies (Reverse Harem Daddies)

21. Alice

21

ALICE

I wake with a jolt, my heart racing, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to me like cobwebs. Elena’s phone had been in my hands, the screen cracked and flickering. Messages scrolled across it on their own, over and over, the same words: You’ll never escape. Neither will they. The eerie glow had bled into darkness, and then…nothing.

I sit up, gasping for air, my body damp with sweat. My head throbs, and the room spins slightly as I blink, trying to focus. That’s when I see him.

Ivan.

He’s sitting in the chair by my bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his face shadowed in the dim light. His hands are wrapped around mine, his grip firm but careful, like he’s afraid I’ll slip away.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. His expression is unreadable, his gaze lingering on mine as if he’s searching for something.

Then, without a word, he stands and releases my hands. He doesn’t say anything as he crosses the room and disappears through the door, closing it softly behind him.

I stare at the door, my chest tight. My head pounds harder, and I press my fingers against my temples, trying to ease the pain. The room tilts, my vision blurring, and I sink back into the pillows as unconsciousness pulls me under again.

The next time I wake, the light in the room is brighter. My throat is dry, and my headache has dulled to a steady throb. I shift slightly, groaning at the effort, and then I notice someone leaning over me.

Dmitri.

“You’re awake,” he says, his voice low and even, though there’s an edge of something—concern, maybe—beneath it. He places a hand under my back, helping me sit up. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” I mutter, my voice hoarse.

He smirks, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “You look better than last night.”

Last night. The words make my stomach churn, memories of the alley flashing in fragments—Nikolai, the gunshot, the man crumpling to the ground. I push them down, forcing my face to remain neutral.

“How much do you remember about last night?” Dmitri asks, his gaze sharp, like he’s dissecting me with his eyes.

I hesitate, then shrug. “Not much. It’s all kind of a blur.”

It’s a lie, and I know he can tell. His smirk fades, replaced by something harder, colder. He tilts his head slightly, studying me.

“You’re a terrible liar, Alice,” he says softly.

My throat tightens, and I look away, focusing on the wall instead of his piercing gaze. “I’m just…tired, Dmitri. My head’s killing me.”

“Alice, in our world, trust is very hard to earn, and equally easy to lose.”

Before I can respond to Dmitri’s veiled warning, the door opens, and Nikolai strides in. His expression is unreadable.

The sight of him sends a chill down my spine. The memory hits me hard and fast—Nikolai standing in that alley, his face cold and unreadable as he pulled the trigger. The sharp crack of the gunshot, the way the man crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

I shiver involuntarily, gripping the edge of the blanket tighter. They’re dangerous—cold-blooded killers all of them, even Nikolai. He shows no remorse for what he has done, doesn’t even try to apologize.

“How is she?” Nikolai asks, his voice clipped.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, though my voice comes out weaker than I intend.

“You scared the hell out of us last night,” he says, his voice softer now but still carrying that unmistakable edge of authority. “Do you remember what happened?”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Not much,” I lie again. “It’s all kind of a blur.”

Dmitri’s low chuckle cuts through the tension. “She’s already tried that line on me, Nikolai,” he says, crossing his arms. “She’s not as convincing as she thinks.”

Nikolai glances at him, then back at me. “Alice,” he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for evasion. “You need to be honest with us. The man we…dealt with last night was one of Vadim’s.”

“Elena’s younger brother,” I say, recalling our conversation from earlier.

His jaw tightens.

“He’s been circling for months, making moves. But sending someone after you? That’s new.”

I shake my head, feigning confusion. “Why would Vadim be interested in me? I don’t even know him.”

“Exactly,” Dmitri says, his tone skeptical. “So why were you at that café, Parker? Out of all the places in the city, why there?”

I glance at Nikolai, but his expression gives nothing away. Dmitri, on the other hand, is watching me closely, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.

“I just…wanted to get some air,” I say, my voice shaky. “I didn’t know it would turn into…that.”

Dmitri takes a step closer, his presence almost suffocating. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice low. “Because it feels like there’s something you’re not telling us.”

My stomach twists, but I force myself to meet his gaze. “I don’t know anything,” I say firmly, willing myself to sound convincing.

He doesn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies me. I can feel the tension in the room growing thicker by the second, and I know he doesn’t believe me. But he doesn’t press further—at least not yet.

“I’ll let it go for now,” Dmitri says finally, stepping back. “But if you’re keeping something from us, Alice, you’d better hope it doesn’t come back to bite you.”

Nikolai glances between us, his brow furrowing slightly. “Enough, Dmitri,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “She’s been through enough for one day.”

Dmitri doesn’t argue, but the look he gives me before he turns to leave is enough to make my stomach churn.

As the door closes behind him, Nikolai stays behind, his gaze softening as he looks at me. “Don’t let him scare you,” he says quietly. “You’re safe here, Alice.”

I nod, but the words feel hollow. Because no matter how much I want to believe him, the truth is clear—they’re dangerous men, and I’m caught in the middle of something far bigger than I understand.

And they’re starting to doubt me. If they ever find out about Elena’s phone, about the coordinates that led me to the café, I don’t know what they’ll do.

I have to tread carefully. Because one wrong move could cost me everything.