Page 120 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

I nearly choke on air. My face floods with heat so fast I feel dizzy, and I want the floor to open up beneath me and swallow me whole. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I just stand there frozen, staring at Ekaterina like she's grown a second head.

Russ looks stunned for perhaps the first time in his life. His arm is still around my waist, but his entire body has gone rigid. His mouth opens slightly, then closes again. He blinks once, twice, like he's trying to process what his mother just said.

Nick is completely still near the counter, his coffee mug frozen halfway to his mouth. His green eyes are locked on Ekaterina with an expression I can't quite read. Not angry. Not shocked. Just... still.

Alex stands near the stove with his own mug, and while his expression doesn't change much, I catch the slight widening of his eyes. The only sign he's as caught off guard as the rest of us.

Ekaterina, meanwhile, continues sipping her coffee like she's just asked about the weather. Her dark eyes move calmly between the four of us, waiting for an answer with the patience of someone who has all the time in the world.

The silence stretches.

And stretches.

Nobody says anything.

The only sound in the massive kitchen is the faint hum of the refrigerator and my own heart pounding so loudly I'm sure everyone can hear it.

My embarrassment intensifies with every passing second. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to disappear into thin air and never come back. But Russ's arm is still around me, grounding me in place, and I can't move even if I wanted to.

"Ma," Russ finally says, his voice strained. "What the hell?"

"It's a simple question, Rustik," Ekaterina replies calmly, setting her mug down on the counter. "There's a baby coming. The four of you already live together. Everyone on this estate clearly treats Marla like she belongs to all three of you anyway. Marriage is simply the next logical step."

She says it so matter-of-factly, like she's discussing grocery lists or dinner plans. Like asking which of three Russian mafia bosses plans to marry the woman they're all sleeping with is a perfectly normal breakfast conversation.

I feel like I'm going to pass out. My knees feel rubbery, and if Russ wasn't holding me, I might actually collapse. This can't be happening. This cannot actually be happening right now.

"Ma, we haven't even..." Russ trails off, clearly struggling to find words. "We're not... it's complicated."

"It doesn't seem complicated to me," Ekaterina says. She picks up her mug again and takes another sip, completely unbothered by the chaos she's just created. "You're all living together. You're all raising this baby together. You're all clearly in love with her. So which one of you is going to make it official first?"

The words "in love with her" hang in the air like a bomb that just detonated. My chest tightens so much I can barely breathe. Nobody denies it. Nobody argues. The silence that follows is deafening.

Then Alex speaks, his voice calm and steady like he's discussing a business deal. "We'll all marry her at the same time."

The room goes dead silent.

I whip my head around to stare at him, my eyes wide. He can't be serious. He can't possibly be serious right now. But Alex's expression is completely neutral, his brown eyes steady as he looks back at me. He's not joking. He's not teasing. He means it.

"What?" I manage to choke out.

"You heard me," Alex says simply. He sets his coffee mug down on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. "We'll all marry you. At the same time."

My brain short-circuits. The words don't compute. Marry all three. At the same time! The sentence fragments scatter through my mind like broken glass, refusing to form any coherent meaning. My hands grip the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles turn white.

I can't process what he just said. It doesn't make sense. People don't do that. You can't just marry three people at once. That's not how marriage works. That's not how anything works. There are laws. Legal documents. Witnesses. Vows that specifically say ‘forsaking all others.’ The entire institution is built on the premise of one person, one commitment, one ring.

But nobody in the room looks shocked by the suggestion. Nobody laughs or tells Alex he's insane. Instead, Nick slowly lowers his coffee mug and studies Alex for a long moment, his green eyes thoughtful. The deliberation in his gaze, like he's actually considering this, actually weighing the logistics of marrying me alongside two other men, sends a shock of electricity through my entire body.

"I don't hate the idea," Nick says quietly.

My head snaps toward him. "What?"

The word comes out as nearly a shout and echoes through the kitchen like a scream. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, my temples, and even in the tips of my fingers. This can't be happening. This is not happening.

Nick's gaze shifts to me, and there's something intense in his expression that makes my breath catch. Something possessive and certain and absolutely terrifying. "You're ours, Marla. All of ours. Why the fuck would only one of us marry you?"

The question lands like a physical blow. Because he's right. They've already claimed me in every way that matters. They've already decided I belong to all three of them. The marriage would just be making it official. But it still isn't right. Is it? It can't be. Won't we be breaking laws?