Ruthless Daddies (Reverse Harem Daddies)

23. Alice

23

ALICE

I ’m buzzing—inside and out. My skin still tingles from their touch, and the memory of last night keeps replaying in my mind like a favorite song. The way they surrounded me, their hands, their mouths, their voices calling my name—it felt like I was the center of their world, if only for those hours.

But now, the morning light streams through the windows, and the reality of what we’re doing settles in.

I expect my dream to end. They were angry at me before we…well, before everything.

“Are you thinking of something?” Nikolai asks.

I shake my head. “It’s just…you’re not mad at me still, are you?”

The three of them exchange looks. “We were never mad at you,” Dmitri says. “We just had questions.”

“And are you satisfied?” I ask, biting my tongue.

Ivan is the one to reply. “Hmmm, my solution to all of this would be to not let you out of our sight.”

Nikolai and Dmitri chuckle.

“Well, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t let you out of my room,” Dmitri says. When I blush, he says, “To make sure you don’t get into any mischief.”

I chuckle in relief. One thing is for sure—they don’t trust me yet. But they must feel something. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here with them, having breakfast.

Marta has already whisked the kids away for their shower, leaving us alone. The silence is loaded, but not uncomfortable. It feels like we’ve crossed into something new—uncharted territory, where none of us quite know the rules.

“So,” Dmitri says, leaning back in his chair, his smirk teasing. “What now?”

I glance at him, then at Nikolai and Ivan. They’re all watching me, waiting for my answer. It’s overwhelming and thrilling all at once.

I clear my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. “I think…” I pause, glancing down at my coffee cup before meeting their gazes again. “Why don’t we take one step at a time?”

Nikolai chuckles softly, his grin widening. “Sounds like a reasonable start.”

“Reasonable,” Dmitri echoes, his tone amused. “Not exactly our strong suit, but I guess we can try.”

Ivan, as usual, doesn’t say much, but he nods, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he’s weighing my words. “One step at a time,” he says finally.

I smile, relief washing over me. It feels like the first step forward in what will undoubtedly be a complicated path, but it’s a start.

The next few days pass in a blur.

I wake in Dmitri’s arms one morning, his breath warm against my neck as the sunlight filters through the curtains. His hand trails lazily over my hip, his touch both possessive and tender. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, murmuring something soft and teasing that makes me laugh despite the early hour.

Another night, I find myself curled up with Nikolai on the couch, his head resting against mine as we watch a movie neither of us is paying attention to. His fingers trace idle patterns on my thigh, his warmth seeping into me as I lean against his chest. When he kisses me, it’s slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to show me exactly how much he cares.

Ivan is different—quieter but no less intense. One evening, he pulls me into his study, his lips capturing mine before I can even ask what’s wrong. His kiss is desperate, like he’s trying to tell me everything he can’t say out loud. Later, after he has spent himself inside me, he holds me against him, his hands tangled in my hair as he presses his forehead to mine, his breathing ragged.

Days are about devoting time to the twins. Nights, though—when the brothers come back smelling like metal and earth—are a different story. In a fucked-up way, I’ve started to like it. I don’t want to know what they do when they’re outside the house.

The nights are a whirlwind of heat and desire, their bodies pressed against mine, their hands exploring every inch of me. Dmitri’s rough, teasing fingers stroke between my thighs, making me writhe as Nikolai’s lips close over my nipple, his tongue flicking expertly. Ivan takes me from behind, his hands gripping my hips firmly as he thrusts into me, my cries swallowed by Dmitri’s mouth as he kisses me deeply.

Sometimes, it’s slower—Nikolai lifting me onto his lap, his hard length pressing inside me as his hands guide my hips, while Ivan watches from the side, stroking himself in time with our movements. Other times, it’s frantic, the three of them working together to push me to the edge again and again until I’m trembling, boneless, completely theirs.

It’s been a few weeks since this unconventional arrangement began, and as strange as it still feels, I’ve found a peculiar kind of happiness in it.

Today, though, I have something else in mind.

The idea’s been nagging at me for days, ever since I saw an old picture book in the children’s library—images of families under the stars, roasting marshmallows, sleeping under a canopy of constellations. I want Luka and Mila to have that experience—real childhood memories without fear or tension.

I turn, heart pounding a bit, as I face Ivan, Nikolai, and Dmitri who are all working away on their laptops.

“Listen,” I begin, clearing my throat, “I’ve been thinking…the kids have been doing so well lately. Luka’s coming out of his shell, and Mila’s more confident. I think they need a break from all of this, from the house, the guards, the tension.” I take a slow breath. “What if we take them camping?”

Nikolai’s eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Dmitri pauses mid sip of coffee, giving me a skeptical grin. Ivan sets his cup down, his gaze steady on me.

“Camping?” Dmitri drawls, sounding both amused and incredulous. “You’re serious?”

“Completely serious,” I say, folding my hands in front of me. “Let them see what it’s like to roast marshmallows, sleep in tents, tell stories by a campfire.”

Nikolai leans forward, his grin turning genuine. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. They’ve never mentioned camping before, but I bet Mila would love it.”

Ivan’s expression is harder to read. He’s quiet for a moment, considering, his brow furrowed. “It’s risky,” he says finally, his voice low and thoughtful. “We’d be outside our usual security perimeter.”

“Then we pick a location that’s safe,” I counter gently. “You have the resources to ensure it. Somewhere remote but secure enough that you feel comfortable.”

Dmitri sets his cup down, tapping his fingers on the table. “I can arrange something,” he says, surprising me. “A spot I know, a private piece of land we own upstate. It’s secluded, surrounded by forest, and we can post guards at a distance. The kids won’t even notice them.”

Ivan turns to me. “If we’re going to do this, we do it right. Alice, you’ll be responsible for the children’s schedule—when they sleep, when they eat. You know what they need.”

I smile, relief and excitement flooding me. “Of course,” I say, trying not to sound too eager. “I’ll handle everything. Thank you.”

Nikolai chuckles. “Looks like we’re going camping.” He casts a playful glance at Dmitri. “Try not to shoot any wildlife, brother.”

Dmitri smirks. “I’ll behave.”

Two days later, we’re there, upstate, far from the city’s constant hum. The sky is enormous, a brilliant shade of blue that pales as evening approaches. Luka’s and Mila’s eyes shine as they run across the clearing, thrilled to be out of the mansion.

I show them how to pitch their small tent with my help. While Nikolai gives Luka tips on tying knots, Ivan sets up the fire pit, and Dmitri watches the perimeter, ensuring everything is safe.

As dusk falls, we light a campfire. The children sit close to it, eyes wide as Ivan skewers marshmallows on sticks, handing them over carefully. Mila giggles when her marshmallow catches fire, and Nikolai gently blows it out, teasing her that charred marshmallows are the best kind. Luka watches quietly, smiling whenever Dmitri makes a silly face behind Ivan’s back.

It’s normal. So blissfully normal that it tightens something in my chest. Luka and Mila are immensely happy to have their father with them like this. I don’t think they’ve done something like this in a long time, or maybe ever.

Later, when the stars emerge in droves, we settle down on blankets spread over the grass. Nikolai points out constellations, his voice low and soothing, while Dmitri leans back with his arms behind his head, pretending to sleep but smiling whenever Mila pokes him to get his attention. Ivan sits beside me, silent but present, his eyes drifting between the children and the dark silhouettes of trees.

I feel safe, warm, and almost happy.

By midnight, the kids are asleep in their tent, their soft breathing audible if I lean close enough. Ivan, Nikolai, and Dmitri linger by the dying embers of the fire, discussing something in hushed tones. I decide to fetch more water from the nearby stream, a small excuse to give them space and clear my head.

The forest is quiet, the moonlight guiding my steps. I kneel by the stream, scooping water into a container. The night air is cool, and I close my eyes, savoring the stillness.

A twig snaps behind me.

My heart leaps into my throat, and I turn slowly, my eyes adjusting to the shadows. Sergei steps into the moonlight, his large frame cutting a dark silhouette. I straighten, gripping the container of water tightly.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say, trying to sound casual, though my voice wavers slightly.

“I could say the same,” he replies, stepping closer. “But I like to keep an eye on things. Make sure everyone’s safe.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” I ask, straightening. “Keeping an eye on things?”

He chuckles softly, the sound low and unsettling. “It’s my job, isn’t it?”

I don’t respond, my fingers tightening around the container. The silence stretches, and then, out of nowhere, he says, “This place reminds me of Elena.”

My breath catches, and I glance at him sharply. “Elena?”

He nods, his gaze drifting to the stream. “She loved places like this. Quiet, secluded. Said the water made her feel alive.” His tone softens, almost nostalgic, but there’s an edge to his words I can’t quite place.

“You knew her well,” I say, my voice carefully even.

He smiles faintly, his eyes flicking back to me. “I knew her better than most.”

The weight of his words sends a chill down my spine. There’s something in his tone—something possessive, almost intimate—that makes my stomach twist. I study his face, searching for clues, but his expression remains unreadable.

“She was…kind,” I venture, unsure of what else to say.

“She was more than that,” he replies. “A fact nobody appreciated about her.”

“Not even her own husband?” I know it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as its out of my mouth. His eyes narrow but he doesn’t answer.

“It sounds like you were close,” I say carefully, trying to gauge more.

He tilts his head slightly, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Close enough.”

The way he says it sends another ripple of unease through me. Was he involved with Elena?

“I should get back,” I say, my voice a little too quick, too eager to end the conversation.

Sergei doesn’t move, his gaze lingering on me. “You’re an interesting one, Miss Parker,” he says, his tone softer now, almost contemplative. “You remind me of her in some ways.”

The statement freezes me in place, and I don’t know whether to feel flattered or alarmed. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, the faint smile still on his face. “Just an observation. Be careful, though. Sometimes curiosity can lead to…dangerous places.”

With that, he turns and walks away, disappearing into the shadows as silently as he came.