Page 90 of Ruthless Daddies

“Protect me?” I laugh bitterly, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “You’re doing this for yourselves. Don’t pretend this is about me.”

“We’re trying to keep you safe, Alice. This is the only way, without losing you,” Ivan says.

“But you’re losing me anyway,” I snap, tears stinging my eyes. “Don’t you see that? You’re pushing me away because you’re scared, and you’re too damn proud to admit it.”

“You have to see it that way we do, be practical,” Nikolai insists.

I snort. “Was that always the plan? To fuck me and throw me away?”

“Alice—” Dmitri says.

“What? Am I lying?” I hate the way my voice rises with every word.

I feel the anger bubbling up from somewhere deep, a raw, painful kind of rage born of betrayal. If they can’t even acknowledge what I said, then what was all of this for?

My body trembles, tears threatening to spill, but I fight them back, refusing to break down in front of them again. I straighten my spine, crossing my arms over my chest as I swallow the knot in my throat.

“Get out,” I say finally, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound strong.

Nikolai opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but I lift my chin and glare at him. “All of you,” I add, gesturing toward the door. “Leave me alone.”

For a second, none of them move. Dmitri clears his throat, looking like he wants to say something, but I shake my head, my resolve hardening.

They file out in silence, the door clicking shut behind them.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in a sheet. My mind spins, replaying the last few minutes, the confession that slipped from my lips and the echoing silence that followed. They couldn’t even give me a word in return.

I waketo a dull ache in my chest, a throbbing reminder of last night’s heartbreak.

I slip out of bed, still wrapped in a robe, and make my way downstairs, the house eerily quiet. I’m not really sure what I’m looking for—a reprieve, maybe, or some kind of closure—but instead, I find Nikolai in the living room.

He’s standing by the window, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. At first, I think they’re for decoration, until he notices me and walks over, holding them out. “Morning,” he says quietly, offering a weak smile.

I hesitate, studying the bouquet. Lilies, my favorite, alongside some vibrant daisies. A stark contrast to the tension lingering in the air. “Morning,” I reply, my voice hoarse with leftover tears.

He presses the flowers into my hands. “I…wanted to say I’m sorry about last night.” His gaze flicks up to meet mine, uncertainty in his eyes. “It came out harsher than we intended.”

“It always does,” I mutter, hugging the bouquet against my chest. The scent is almost overwhelming, sweet and cloying, like an apology I can’t quite accept yet.

Nikolai exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “We didn’t plan for it to sound so…final. We just—” He breaks off, glancing toward the hallway. “Things are complicated. Vadim’s pressing in, and we’re under a lot of pressure.”

I snort softly, bitterness rising. “So you assume I’m working with him? Because that’s what it sounded like last night—you’re sending me away because you think I might be a traitor.”

He grimaces. “It’s not that simple. We don’t want to think you’re involved with Vadim, but it’s hard to ignore how everything lines up. We just can’t take any chances.”

My grip tightens on the flowers, the stems digging into my palms. “So you’re punishing me for your suspicions,” I say quietly. “Assuming the worst because it’s convenient.”

Nikolai steps closer, shaking his head. “We’re not punishing you. This is about keeping you safe, whether you believe that or not.”

I laugh, a hollow sound. “Safe? From you, or from Vadim? Because right now it feels like I need safety from everyone.”

“Look,” he says softly, “I know you’re hurt. But you can’t just leave. That’s not going to happen.” Before I can protest, he holdsup a hand. “You’re going to be taken somewhere secure until this blows over.”

The baby feels like a lead weight inside me, a secret I can’t bring myself to share. “I want to quit,” I say bluntly. “I don’t want this job anymore. I don’t need your protection. I just want to go.”

He looks stricken by my words.

“You’re not quitting,” he says firmly. “And you’re not leaving on your own. There’s too much at stake—for you, and for us.”

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