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“I’m not having sex with you,” she stammers and pulls her feet from my grasp, bringing her knees back to her chest.

“Of course,” I say, “you’ve made your rules clear. We will be co-parenting.”

Her gaze tightens as she pushes her legs off the sofa and stands. “What about you? Do you intend on bringing random women home to fuck?”

I chuckle at her remark. Is she jealous? “Who said anything about them being random?”

Aleksandra’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh my gosh. Are you seeing someone?” The color drains right out of her face as she steps farther away, pacing the length of the room.

The afternoon light cascades in through the windows, shining down on her. “Come sit,” I say and pat the sofa beside me.

“Are you?” she asks again. There’s an urgency in her tone.

Why does it matter to her if I’m seeing another woman? She’s made it clear that nothing will transpire between the two of us. Is it because of the twins?

“I’m not,” I say and stand from the sofa. Methodically, I approach her, slow and patient, as I reach for her hand. “Sit with me.” I try again to get her to calm down.

What has her in such a tizzy?

She pinches her lips together, and a soft sigh spills out past her mouth.

“You seem relieved that I’m not dating anyone.”

Aleksandra avoids my stare and fiddles with the single piece of lint that she’s managed to discover on her black leggings. She picks at it as though she were picking apart a flower, petal by petal.

“It’s not that.”

“Look at me,” I say, and I wait for her attention to return to my gaze.

After a moment, she must realize I’m staring, and she glances up at me. “Yes?”

“Why would it bother you if I were dating someone else?”

“It wouldn’t,” she blurts. “I mean, I don’t care. It just seems unfair that you get to traipse women through this place, and I don’t.”

A smirk etches my face. “Oh, you can bring all the women into your room that you want, but I get the privilege of watching.”

Aleksandra’s cheeks burn, and she rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

It may not be, but a guy can fantasize. “I’d have thought after having twins, you wouldn’t have cared about bringing random men into your bedroom.”

Her brow furrows, and she folds her arms across her chest. “You don’t have the right to dictate my life or with whom I sleep, Antonio.”

“Don’t I? You’re living under my roof, free of charge. You’re eating the food that my staff cooks for you. They clean up after you. Wash your laundry. You have it pretty damn good if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you,” she snaps, and her top lip scowls with indignation. “And tell me how much I owe you. I’ll pay my fair share.”

I glance her up and down. “How do you intend to do that?”

She’s never mentioned a job, and from what I had gathered, she lived under Mikhail’s roof without any expenses.

“I’ll get a job,” she says.

“I’d rather you stay home with the twins, and I’ll provide your room and board, along with a stipend.”

She scoffs at my suggestion.

“What?” I ask.

“They’re four. Pretty soon, they’re going to be in elementary school.”

“Yes, but they need someone at home to help them with their homework when they’re done at school. I either hire a nanny to look after them or let you do it.”

“Because you’re too busy.”

“What do you think?” I snap, tired of her antics. I’ve tried to be kind, warm, open to her suggestions and what she wants.

It’s not exactly easy for me, to show this side to someone else. I’ve locked it away all my life, and for her to think anything else would be foolish.


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