Page 126 of Single Mom's Daddies
When we get inside, Ivy is playing a quiet game with Mila and Alex in the sunroom. Melanie smiles at me from the couch, nodding subtly to saythey’ve been perfect.
I kneel and hug Ivy just long enough to breathe her in, to reassure myself that everything I built today was worth it. Her arms wrap around my neck without hesitation, and I realize she doesn’t even remember a time I wasn’t worried about a bill. Sheknows I’ve skipped dinner to keep food on the table for her. Not that I told her. She figured it out on her own. Like always.
She will grow up, and those memories will fade into nothing.
Later, when the kids are tucked into their beds and the hallway lights are low, I pad barefoot down the long corridor toward our shared room. I stop just outside the threshold and turn to the three men trailing behind me.
Roman watches me with heat in his eyes, but softness in his stance. Victor has that low, thoughtful gaze, like he’s already undressing me in his mind. Nik tilts his head, smirking like he’s reading the words I haven’t said yet.
“You guys changed my life today,” I say quietly. “I want to change yours too. Starting tonight.”
Roman steps forward first, brushing my cheek with his knuckles. “You already have.”
Victor kisses the corner of my mouth. “But we’ll take whatever else you’re offering.”
Nikolai grins. “And we’ll take turns.”
I laugh—because this is mine now too. The laughter. The love. The strength of knowing I am no longer surviving—I’mthriving. I slip inside the bedroom, the three of them close behind. And as the door closes, I know exactly what I’m walking into.
A future of my own choosing.
A family I never thought I deserved.
38
ROMAN
The housefinally feels like itself again. Mostly.
Not perfect—there are still cracks in the tile that need replacing, scorch marks on the back patio stones from something terrifying Olenna must have done—but it breathes the way it should. Ivy’s laugh filters down the hallway like music, and someone left a trail of glitter glue on the dining room rug that I haven’t had the heart to clean.
I’m in the kitchen when Olenna walks in. I pass her a cup of black tea without asking. She sips, nods her approval, then sets it down and lifts her gaze like she’s expecting me to say something useful.
I’m not sure how useful my information is to her anymore, considering she’s secretly been running the show this whole time. “The feds have backed off. Ruger says there’s no proof of our art scam, no bodies in our closets—at least not recently. He’s been gradually pushing them to think of us as has-beens in organized crime. And Interpol’s tied up in so much red tape around Svet, they’ll be lucky if they can even get their pants on straight before next spring.”
Olenna snorts. “Interpol will never find her.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You sound confident.”
“They’ve never found her before, not even when she was sleeping with the General Secretariat of Interpol.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Come again?”
She smiles. “You think your uncle was the first crooked man I knew?” She tsks at me. “I thought you were the smart one of the brothers.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Was it a ‘Keep your enemies close’ kind of thing?”
“He had a lovely big cock and knew how to use it.”
That makes me choke on my coffee. Once I can breathe again, I can hardly look her in the eye. “Aunt Olenna?—”
“Oh, sure. I say something about sex, and now I’mAuntagain.” She rolls her eyes. I narrow mine, but she’s already moved on, picking at the edge of a scone. “You should worry about something that matters. Like your uncle’s sunburn.”
I blink. “Come again?”
She pulls out her phone with dramatic flair, swipes three times, and spins the screen around. There he is. Max. In the background of someone else’s photo—two girls in swimsuits posing on a yacht off Bora Bora. Behind them, on the upper deck, is Max. Shirtless. Arms crossed. Looking absolutely miserable. He looks like a boiled crustacean.
I laugh so hard I nearly choke on my coffee. “Why does he look like someone dipped him in hot sauce?”
