But Alya is looking at me like this is the best news she’s shared all year, her eyes shining with hope. And Bella—damn her—she’s not helping. She glances between us, still bleary-eyed from sleep,but there’s a softness there. An unspoken question. She doesn’t argue. She doesn’t protest. She waits.
It’s almost worse. Because that means she’s not fighting me. She’s trusting me to decide. And something about that quiet surrender sinks into my bones like heat.
I should say no. Iwillsay no. But not yet.
My gaze drops once more—I let it, just for a breath—tracing the way the blanket cuts across the tops of her thighs.
I wonder, fleeting and dangerous, what she’d look like beneath me, still warm from sleep, her hair spread over my pillows. My pulse tightens.
Control. Focus.
I clear my throat, my voice steady when I speak.
“Alya,” I say, keeping it even, “school is not today. It’s next week.”
Her face falls just slightly. Not a full collapse, but a flicker of disappointment I feel like a bruise on my own skin.
Lev, of course, has zero tact. “Told you it wasn’t today,” he says smugly, then promptly loses interest and starts poking at the corners of the room like he’s casing it for treasure.
Alya pouts. “But Papa…” She hugs her bear tighter to her chest, looking up at me with eyes too big, too soft. “Bella could take me when it’s time? Please?”
Her voice cracks on the last word, and damn it all, my resolve slips another inch.
Bella glances up, eyes wide, lips parted—and I catch it again: that flicker of warmth toward the children, protective, instinctive.
It hits me harder than it should. Like she’s already part of this household. Like shebelongshere.
I push the thought away, burying it deep.
Not yet.
“Get dressed,” I say to Bella, my voice low and final. “You won’t be going anywhere like that.”
My gaze lingers deliberately before I turn for the door. I let her feel it—let her know exactly where my thoughts have been.
Then I leave them there, smoldering in the air between us.
Bella tips her head at me slowly, blue eyes sharpening with each passing second. Her voice, when it comes, is bone-dry.
“Okay. Firstly—excuse me—but I didn’t realize there was a full family meeting being held in my bedroom without, you know,notifyingme.” Her eyes flick toward the kids, then back to me, unimpressed. “Decisions being made, apparently,without my attendance?” She arches a brow. “And here I thought I was part of the royal court now.”
Then—as if to underline her point—she throws back the covers and rises to her feet.
It’s a casual enough movement. ButChrist Almighty, the effect is anything but casual.
The thin slip clings to her body like it’s been painted on, and the second she stands, the shift of gravity sends her breasts bouncing lightly beneath the fabric, soft and full. Her hips roll as she moves, the silk hem flirting with the top of her thighs, her hair tumbling over her shoulder like some careless seduction straight out of a dream.
My throat goes tight. The room shrinks. The air shifts.
Ifeelher. More than see her. My cock stirs again, painfully aware of every inch of her exposed skin, every curve wrapped in scandalous softness.
Blyad.Time forgets how to move.
Alya tilts her head curiously. “Papa?”
Lev stares up at me, eyebrows raised. “Are you okay? Your face looks weird.”
I snap my eyes back to Bella’s, and the look she gives me is pure challenge. Daring me to say something. Daring me tolookagain.
