19. Alice
19
ALICE
“ G od, Nikolai,” I gasp, my voice trembling as his fingers thrust into me, deep and precise. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure spiraling through my body, my hips bucking against him as I cling to the sheets. His other hand cups my breast, kneading the soft flesh while his thumb teases my hardened nipple, flicking it just enough to make me cry out.
“You’re dripping for us,” Nikolai murmurs, his voice rough and laced with satisfaction. He’s kneeling between my legs, his broad shoulders dwarfing me as he watches every reaction. “Do you feel how wet you are?”
I nod, unable to speak, my breath catching with every curl of his fingers inside me. His palm presses against my swollen clit, and the pressure is perfect, devastating. My thighs tremble as I lose control, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.
Dmitri is beside me, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and to the swell of my other breast. His stubble scratches my sensitive skin, a delicious contrast to Nikolai’s smooth, deliberate touch. Dmitri’s tongue circles my nipple before pulling it into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make my toes curl.
I gasp his name, my hand tangling in his hair as he switches to the other breast, biting down gently before soothing it with his tongue. “You’re so beautiful like this, Alice,” Dmitri whispers against my skin, his voice vibrating through me. “Falling apart for us.”
The heat pooling in my core becomes unbearable, every nerve in my body strung tight as Nikolai’s fingers pump into me, stretching and filling me in a way that makes my vision blur. He leans closer, his mouth brushing against the inside of my thigh, and I whimper, the anticipation almost too much.
“You’re so tight,” Nikolai says, his voice husky. “I can feel how close you are, Alice. Don’t hold back.”
Dmitri’s hand slides down my body, his fingers brushing over my clit where Nikolai’s palm still presses. The combination of their touches is overwhelming, and my hips jerk involuntarily as they work together, pushing me higher and higher. “She’s so ready,” Dmitri says, his tone smug as his fingers join Nikolai’s, the sensation sending a cry tearing from my throat.
I writhe between them, their hands and mouths owning every inch of me. Dmitri’s free hand grips my thigh, keeping me spread wide for Nikolai as he presses his mouth to me, his tongue flicking over my swollen clit. The wet heat of his tongue combined with Dmitri’s fingers inside me is pure fire, and I feel myself unraveling, spiraling out of control.
“Look at me,” Nikolai commands, his voice rough as he lifts his head, his lips glistening with my arousal. I force my eyes open, locking onto his as his tongue circles my clit again, slow and deliberate. “I want to see you when you come.”
Dmitri presses his lips to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Come for us, Alice. Let us see how beautiful you are.”
Their words, their touches—it’s too much. My body clenches, a cry ripping from my throat as the orgasm crashes over me, blinding and relentless. I’m trembling, gasping for air, my hands clawing at the sheets as waves of pleasure ripple through me.
They don’t stop. Nikolai’s tongue flicks over me again, prolonging my release, and Dmitri’s fingers thrust deep, coaxing every last bit of sensation from me until I’m boneless, sinking into the mattress.
I can barely breathe, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I try to come back to myself. Nikolai moves up my body, his lips capturing mine in a slow, possessive kiss. His tongue tastes of me, and it sends a fresh jolt of heat through my already sensitive body.
I tug my blouse back over my head, smoothing it down as best I can with trembling fingers. My hair is a mess, my cheeks still flushed, and I’m half expecting Nikolai and Dmitri to slip away as they usually do.
The sheets are soft and rumpled beneath me, my body still humming from their touch. Usually, after these nights, they slip away quietly. But tonight is different. Nikolai and Dmitri linger, sprawled comfortably beside me.
My heart flutters, part confusion, part something else I’m not ready to name. I should say something, but the silence between us is oddly comfortable, like we’ve crossed a line none of us knew existed.
Is something changing between us?
I’m too scared to voice the question. Fear grips me because I’m not sure I want to know the answer. The bed creaks as Nikolai stretches, his muscles rippling under the soft light. Dmitri runs a hand through his hair, glancing at me, his smirk softer than usual.
They’re both looking at me differently tonight, and I don’t know how to read it.
My mind drifts, unbidden, to Ivan. How vulnerable he looked this morning after I confronted him, how his voice wavered when he talked about Elena.
I don’t know how else to put it…but I might have feelings for all three of them. With Nikolai and Dmitri, I understand. The lines between physical and emotional are easy to blur. And Ivan…
It felt wrong to come seeking Dmitri and Nikolai after what Ivan and I did yesterday. My cheeks heat as I think about that night. He took me till dawn broke over the horizon, and I could barely find my legs afterward. But I still couldn’t resist Dmitri and Nikolai when they came into my room tonight. Is this selfish?
I glance at them.
It’s rare to see them like this, tension-free and open. If there’s ever a time to ask, it’s now.
I bite my lip, then say softly, “I’ve been thinking about Elena.” Nikolai stills, and Dmitri turns to look at me.
“You’re nosy, Parker,” he teases, but there’s no heat in his voice. “Dangerously so.”
I shake my head. I want to understand her, and Ivan in turn.
“She deserved better than what she got.” Dmitri says.
Nikolai shoots him a sharp look, his eyes narrowing. “Dmitri,” he warns, his voice low.
Dmitri waves him off, sitting up slightly. “What? It’s the truth.” He looks at me then, his gaze steady but filled with something I can’t quite name. “You want to know more about Elena? Fine. She was kind, smart, too good for the life we live. And her death? Yeah, it was an accident—officially. But if you ask me…”
He trails off, running a hand through his hair. The movement is frustrated, almost angry.
“If you ask me, it was too convenient,” he finishes, his voice quieter now. “She didn’t just ‘crash.’ There were signs—things that didn’t add up.”
I sit up too, my heart racing. “What kind of things?” I ask.
“Dmitri,” Nikolai warns again.
“What?” Dmitri says. “We all know Vadim might be the one behind it.”
I blanch. “Vadim?”
Dmitri hesitates, and I can see the battle playing out in his mind. Nikolai glares at him, but Dmitri shrugs as if to say, She’s already in this—what’s the point of hiding it now?
“Elena’s younger brother. He didn’t approve of her marriage to Ivan,” Dmitri says finally, his voice low and bitter. “Vadim’s always had a way of stirring trouble. And Elena…well, she tried to keep the peace, but…”
“But what?” I ask, leaning closer.
Dmitri shakes his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But nothing,” he says, his tone sharper now. “Elena’s gone. Vadim’s not worth talking about.”
Nikolai’s hand finds mine, his touch grounding. “Let it go, Alice,” he says softly. “This isn’t something you need to get involved in.”
It’s late afternoon, and I’m watching Luka and Mila play ball amongst themselves. Usually, I would record them playing—Luka’s smiles are rare, and Mila looks infectiously happy, but my mind is elsewhere.
Nikolai and Dmitri’s words from last night won’t stop playing through my head.
Mila giggles every time Luka fumbles a catch and grins sheepishly. It’s good to see them like this, especially Luka.
“Catch, Mila!” Luka shouts, throwing the ball a little too hard. It soars past Mila and crashes into the table in the corner, knocking over a delicate vase. The sound of shattering glass snaps me out of my thoughts.
Luka freezes, his eyes wide with panic. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he says quickly, his voice trembling. “Are you going to tell Marta?”
I kneel down, taking his small hands in mine. “No, sweetheart,” I say gently. “It was an accident. Marta doesn’t need to know.”
His lip quivers, but he nods, his fear easing slightly. I give him a reassuring smile before turning to the mess. “Stay back, both of you,” I say firmly. “I’ll clean this up.”
As I pick up the larger shards of glass, something catches my eye. A loose floor tile near where the vase shattered. It’s barely noticeable, but the edge is slightly raised, as if it’s been pried up before. I pause, frowning. The Morozov household is nothing if not immaculate—everything in its place, nothing out of order. A loose tile feels…odd.
Curiosity buzzes in my mind as I brush the area clean. Carefully, I pry the tile up, the cool porcelain giving way easily. Beneath it is a small, black rectangle wrapped in a protective plastic sleeve. My heart pounds as I pull it out, realizing it’s a phone.
The model is outdated, the screen cracked, but it’s still intact. It’s clear that this phone has been hidden deliberately.
“Hey, guys,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “Why don’t you go play in the other room for a bit? I’ll finish cleaning up here.”
Luka hesitates, but Mila tugs at his hand. “Come on!” she says brightly, dragging him out of the room.
Once they’re gone, I sit on the floor, staring at the phone. My hands tremble slightly as I press the power button, not expecting it to turn on. But to my surprise, the screen flickers to life, and the home screen appears.
The phone is locked, but there’s no password—just a swipe to unlock. I hesitate, a small voice in my head telling me this isn’t my place. But the other voice—the one that’s been tugging at me ever since I stepped into this house—wins out.
If this phone was hidden, there’s a reason.
I open the messages app. The most recent thread is with an unknown number. My heart pounds as I scroll through the texts, the words leaping off the screen.
Unknown: Are you ready, E?
E? Elena?
Shit! This was Elena’s phone? My mind buzzes. There’s no way.
Elena: I don’t know. I’m scared.
Unknown: You don’t have to be. Just leave it all behind. You can have a new life.
Elena: What about Luka and Mila? I can’t leave them.
Unknown: Bring them. We’ll figure it out. Just get out of that house. It’s not safe for you anymore.
My breath catches. Elena. This phone was hers. These messages—they’re hers.
The conversation continues, and the words grow more frantic.
Unknown: You’re running out of time. If you don’t leave soon, you won’t get another chance.
Elena: I can’t. They’ll find me. I don’t want to bring trouble to my family.
The last message makes my blood run cold.
Unknown: Then you’ve already made your choice.
The thread ends there. No more texts, no indication of what happened next. But the implications are staggering. Elena was planning to leave. To run away.
I sit back, the phone clutched tightly in my hands. My mind races, questions and doubts swirling. Why was Elena so desperate to escape? Who was she texting? And what happened to her that night?
One thing is clear—her death wasn’t just an accident.
I step out of the children’s room, my mind still spinning from the discovery of Elena’s hidden phone.
As I close the door softly behind me, I almost walk straight into her.
Svetlana.
She’s standing in the hallway, her arms crossed and a smug smile playing on her perfectly painted lips. Her blonde hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail, and her dress—tight and low-cut—looks more suited for a nightclub than this house. The sight of her makes my stomach churn.
“Move out of my way,” I say, but she doesn’t, smirking instead.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she says.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” I shoot back. “You’re not welcome here.”
She laughs softly, a sound that makes my skin crawl. “Is that so? Last I checked, Ivan’s word is the only one that matters in this house. And he called me here.”
The words hit me like a slap. Ivan? My mind rejects it instantly. She’s lying. She has to be. There’s no way Ivan would?—
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, my voice cold. “Whatever game you’re playing, it won’t work. You don’t belong here.”
Svetlana’s smile turns vicious, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Oh, sweetheart,” she purrs, stepping closer. “Tell me, Alice, do you think you’re the only one Ivan lets into his life? Into his bed?”
Her words hit like a slap, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I know what she’s doing—trying to get under my skin, to rattle me. But I can’t let her see how much it’s working.
“Whatever history you think you have, it’s in the past,” I say. “You don’t belong in his life anymore.”
Before she can respond, I hear footsteps behind me.
He looks…different. His usually composed demeanor is strained, his jaw tight and his eyes shadowed. But he doesn’t look at me. His gaze is fixed on Svetlana.
“Svetlana,” he says, his voice low but firm. “What are you doing here?”
She tilts her head, her smile softening as she steps toward him. “You called me, Ivan,” she says sweetly. “I came because you needed me.”
I glance between them, my heart sinking. The way he doesn’t immediately deny it, the way his hand flexes at his side—it’s all too much. She wasn’t lying. He did call her.
Ivan doesn’t respond to her words directly. Instead, he steps forward and takes her by the arm, his grip firm but not rough. “Come with me,” he says curtly.
Svetlana glances back at me as he leads her away, her smile triumphant. My chest tightens painfully, and I feel like the air has been sucked out of the room. I watch them disappear down the hall, my feet rooted to the spot.