Page 4 of Ruthless Daddies

I frown, surprised by the question. “Because she needed help. I didn’t stop to think about it.”

He gives me a long look, something shifting behind his eyes. “Not everyone would do that. You risked your safety without a second thought. That kind of instinct…it’s rare.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just nod. Ivan holds my gaze for a moment longer before his expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his face.

“Well, Miss Parker, it seems you’ve made quite an impression already.”

2

IVAN

Iwatch Alice as she stands before me, still soaked to the bone, her damp clothes clinging to her curves in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

I clear my throat, forcing my gaze to remain on her face. I’m the one interviewing her,hiringher, not… But my eyes betray me, tracing the droplets of water sliding down her neck, lingering over the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath.

Water clings to every inch of her, turning her dress almost sheer. Her dark hair, dripping wet, frames her face, and her green eyes—sharp but soft, determined—meet mine with a steadiness that surprises me. She doesn’t look away, even with my gaze sweeping over her, lingering on the delicate curve of her collarbone and the outline of her breasts.

Damn it, Ivan. Get a grip.I mentally shake myself, a smolder of heat settling in my chest, something I haven’t felt in a long time.

“Follow me, Miss Parker,” I say, turning sharply and leading her into the house. I catch the faint sound of her footsteps behind me, her wet shoes leaving small puddles on the marble floors.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I’m not sure if I crossed a line or…” She trails off.

I can still feel the heat simmering under my skin, my thoughts straying where they shouldn’t as I glance over my shoulder. Her soaked dress clings to her like a second skin, the fabric tracing the curve of her hips.

“No need to apologize,” I say.

I take a breath, deliberately steadying myself, and my gaze falls on a portrait hanging in the hallway just behind her. Elena’s face stares back at me, frozen in time. My stomach twists with the familiar pang of guilt, the memory of her last days haunting me, reminding me of the promises I made.

Pull yourself together.

“Alice,” I say. “I’d like to offer you the position.”

Her eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across her face. “Really?”

“Yes,” I say.

“The job is full-time,” I continue, leaning against the edge of the desk, keeping my expression neutral. “It requires you to live here, in the house, with the family. You’d have your own room, of course, close to the children’s suite.”

She hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. “Live…in?”

“Yes,” I reply. “It’s a condition of the job.” I pause, gauging her reaction.

I understand, of course; most people wouldn’t relish the idea of being tied down like this. Yet, as she pauses, I feel an irrational prickle of worry.

“You’ll have your own space,” I add. “A private suite with everything you’ll need. Meals and other necessities are taken care of, naturally. The children are young, but they’re bright and energetic. You’ve already met Mila.”

A faint smile crosses her face, the first hint of softness since she dried off a little. “Yes, she’s lovely.”

“And Luka is her twin. They’re close and can be a handful,” I say, aware that I sound more formal than usual. Maybe even detached. It’s a reflex, a habit after years of balancing family and business with the Bratva.

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Morozov.” Her voice is soft, unwavering.

“Ivan,” I correct, surprising myself as much as her. I never do this—open up to strangers, let alone a new employee. But something about her—this unusual girl with fire in her gaze, who didn’t hesitate for a second to dive into a pool to save a child she’s just met—compels me to break my own rules. “Call me Ivan.”

She hesitates, then nods. “Ivan,” she echoes.

I let myself hold her gaze a second longer than I should, and for a heartbeat, we’re just standing, inches apart, her breath mingling with mine.

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