Page 16

I stood by the door, eyes fixed on the two children drinking in the sight of my mansion—their new home. A mix of awe and uncertainty etched their faces as they wondered what was happening.

My son, the heir to all that I had built, was silent, his expression nearly unreadable; he had a Tarasov signature. I could tell that he had a lot on that small mind of his, but he hadn't said a word. The kid was observing his environment, his eyes roaming the living room. Underneath the subtle glint of amusement was a hint of caution.

He was smart enough to see me, a stranger, as a threat. My boy had trust issues, and I'd have to do a lot of work in order to convince him that I wasn't a threat to him or two women in his life. For now, though, I couldn't be prouder of this little man.

My blood coursed through his veins, and watching him scrutinize his new environment prompted a smirk on my face. The warrior in him, the defender of his own, had awakened. If he was a little older, he would have had a word with me without being afraid of who I was.

The boy lacked fear—it was a concept that he seemed unfamiliar with. One of the qualities of a Tarasov was bravery, and my son had more than one of those qualities.

My daughter, on the other hand, had a smile on her face as her eyes darted across the opulent setting. She seemed impressed by what she saw, and her joy, however contained, was palpable.

For a long time, they'd lived an ordinary life, oblivious to the luxury that was rightfully theirs. All thanks to their “I know best” mother. The idea that my children lived a simple life in a small town as opposed to the life of glitz and glamor that Ravyn denied them made my skin crawl.

She had done a pretty good job at raising them on her own anyway. The children didn't look malnourished, and they were in perfect condition. Ravyn might not have given them the world, but she did give them something unique: love.

I'd noticed the unbreakable bond between those two, and I had to admit, I was impressed. She taught them to love each other, to look out for one another and that seemed to be exactly what they were doing.

My son, Nik, would always hold his sister's hand whenever he had the chance, as if protecting her from danger. It was clear that his mother had taught him to always defend her, and the boy seemed to take his job very seriously.

For a boy his age without a father figure in his life, Nik sure turned out great.

A sense of unease washed over me as I watched them closely. These kids weren't just an extension of my legacy or symbols of the power of my family. No. They were my blood. My responsibility. They were mine to provide, cater for, and protect.

Ravyn was right about one thing: I did have a lot of enemies who'd want to harm them just to get back at me. The thought of anyone daring to go after my kids made my blood boil, and my fingers physically clenched into fists.

I'd burn the world before I let any harm befall those kids. I would start a fucking war over them, and there was nothing that I wouldn't do in order to keep them safe. They were my responsibility, and I wasn't going to let them down.

Ravyn believed that I'd make a terrible father, considering the type of life I lived. I should have been mad at her, but I realized that I had missed her outspokenness. However, I was going to prove her wrong because right now, nothing mattered to me in the world more than those two kids.

For four years, I'd been absent from their lives. For four years, they'd lived without a father figure, but all of that was about to change. As great as they turned out, there was a void that Ravyn couldn't fill, a void only I could fill. She'd done her best alone. It was time I stepped in.

There was a lot to catch up on, and it could take the kids some time to get used to their new reality—to get used to me. But I was willing to try. I was willing to wait until they came around.

My daughter's eyes locked on mine, and she glided over to me, a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled like her mother's.

She halted in front of me, and I couldn't help but smile, a genuine smile that hadn't played on my lips for a long time.

“Hi,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners, a glimmer of caution flickering in their depths. “Is this your house?”

Her tiny, adorable voice broadened my grin, and I stooped down to her level, my heart racing with anticipation. “Yes, it is. Do you like it?”

She looked up at her mother standing by her side and then returned her gaze to me, nodding her head. “It’s really big. A lot bigger than ours.”

Her voice melted my heart, and a weird feeling I couldn't describe surged through me. I felt a type of joy that I hadn't felt before, but underneath that joy was fear. Fear of screwing things up, of not being good enough.

This little angel had me enthralled, and there wasn't anything in this world that I wouldn't give to her. For the first time in my life, I actually cared about someone else's opinion of me. My daughter had the same effect her mother had on me when we first met, but on a much larger scale.

“I'm Elara,” she introduced herself, her cute smile spreading across her face. “What's your name?”

I swallowed, taking a moment to digest the fact that she didn't see me as a monster. I could sense her reservation, but she definitely wasn't afraid of me.

“Lev,” I replied, my lips curling into a bright grin.

“What does it mean?” she asked, squinting her eyes, curiosity lacing her tone.

“It means 'lion,’” I answered, amused by her inquisition.

Elara giggled, her whites flashing as her lips curved into a smile. She jerked her head, met Ravyn's soft gaze, and returned her eyes to face me. “Are you a friend of Mom's?”

I hesitated, stealing a glance at Ravyn before refocusing my attention on the cute little one. “I am.”

“Cool,” she said, her eyes shining with mirth.

“You know what's even cooler?” I asked, a mischievous grin twitching at the corners of my lips.

She stared at me with anticipation flickering in her gaze, her cute smile gradually broadening.

I leaned forward and palmed the side of my mouth as I whispered in her ear. “I'm your father.”

She lifted her head, her eyes widening in shock. Elara squinted like she was studying me, unsure of what to make of this revelation. A puzzled expression settled on her face, and her head tilted to the side. The girl was just four years old, and only God knew what story her mom had told them about their father.

Elara went silent, her expression blank and almost unreadable. I hated that I couldn't read her at that moment, and I realized just how frustrating it was for people who couldn't read me.

So that's how it feels , I thought.

A faint, nearly imperceptible smile flashed across her face, and her hand gripped her mother's. The smile wasn't a symbol of her acceptance of me as her father—at least not yet. However, it was something I could work with.

There was an awkward silence between us, and I could almost hear Ravyn's heart beating in her chest. She was uneasy for reasons best known to her, but I thought it had something to do with me telling the girl that I was her father.

I caught my son's eyes, his expression stoic as he stood by his mother's side. The air was thick with tension, and the awkward silence was growing deafening by the second.

Andrey materialized by the stairs and conspicuously cleared his throat. “Boss,” he began, his deep voice cutting through the silence. “Should I get the maids to prepare the rooms?”

Without taking my eyes off my little girl, I replied. “Yes. Make sure my kids have everything they need.” I rose to my feet, adjusting my blazer.

It sounded weird saying that out loud, but with time, I'd get used to it. This was my reality now—being responsible for two children. As thrilling as that was, a part of me was afraid of parenting, especially because this was a new territory for me.

But if Ravyn could do it on her own for four years, I would have to give it my all.

“Come on,” Andrey said to the kids, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he mustered a faint smile. “I'll show you to your rooms.”

They looked at their mother as though seeking her permission before going with this strange man with a terrifying look.

She nodded, forcing a smile good enough to have them let their guard down.

Deep down, I was just as jealous as I was intrigued by the way she raised these kids. I could only hope that one day, they would look at me the same way they looked at her, with respect and reverence.

As they followed Andrey up the stairs, Nik held on to his sister's hand like a guardian keeping her safe. I watched them in silence, and the sight tugged at something deep within me—something I wasn't quite ready to name yet.

This wasn't a parenting competition. But if it were, I'd have to work twice as hard just to have half the effect Ravyn had on these kids. She'd taken her time to mold them the right way, and despite my reservations, I couldn't help the pride simmering underneath.

She'd given me two beautiful souls—the best of both worlds—and now it was up to me to keep them. I had no idea where to start, and I had no clue what to do, but I was going to figure something out.

I felt her gaze lingering, and when I turned to face her, she crossed her arms ove r her chest. In her eyes was a glint of defiance, vulnerability, and mockery, as if daring me to figure out the concept of fatherhood on my own.

This was more than enough reason for me to think fast and act even faster. I couldn't have her gloating over my failure, so I mustn't fail.

As tedious as this journey might be, I was willing to see it through to the end. Those kids were mine, and even though, at the moment, I had no idea what it meant to be a father, let alone a father of two, I would definitely figure it out.

One thing was certain, though: Those kids would never lack anything. And as long as I still had breath in my lungs, no harm would ever come their way. Not while I was still alive.