Page 63 of Ruthless Daddies

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 ofme. 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 beena 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 fromall 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 hisarms 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.

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