70 This

Nazar Yartsev:

The first day, if you can even call it that, passed unusually and strangely. My place had never had such a… domestic atmosphere.

No, sure, Kirill and Vicky sometimes come over with my nephews. But that happens rarely and not for long.

Usually, I’m the one on their territory. After all, they’ve got a huge house, and what can you expect from my apartment, even if it’s big? It’s cold. Sometimes it got damn hot in there, but… never warm.

Today, though, it felt like something had seriously changed.

The kids were washed, combed out, and in clean new clothes, sitting at my kitchen island, watching with interest as Ann scooped mashed potatoes with a cutlet onto their plates, while also making popcorn to watch some cartoons later.

Looks like I’m totally screwed and actually getting old. Softened up. Gone mushy.

Because this picture and this atmosphere… I like it.

Something weird and ticklish is happening inside, flipping my guts around. I feel like a puppy that finally found its owners, and that aching feeling… it’s damn unfamiliar and wild for me, but somehow pleasant and important.

“Hey, how long are you gonna stand there?” my panther calls out, noticing my sappy staring. “You’ve got a portion too. Come eat.”

How the hell can you refuse an invitation like that?

Grinning at my own thoughts, I join them, and we start eating.

On the table there are our portions, plus a bowl of salad, a few more cutlets, bread, sliced sausage, and juice in glasses.

“Hey, don’t rush like that,” Anya says softly, lightly touching Luka’s hand and stroking it. “You need to chew properly or your stomach will hurt.”

“We’re used to our stomachs hurting from hunger,” Masha cuts in with a full mouth. “Feed us up first, then we’ll act fancy at the table.”

Despite his sister’s remarks, Luka listened to Ann and stopped swallowing food like a turkey gulping grasshoppers. Smiling shyly, the boy started chewing slowly, looking at the brunette as if waiting for her approval. His cute dimples even made me soften. Good kid.

“Tomorrow we’ll need to do more serious shopping,” I lay out the plan for the morning, tearing myself away from staring. “We need to get you clothes for different weather, and in two weeks—school…”

“Oh, hell no!” Masha snorts, throwing herself back in her chair, even stopping chewing. “We didn’t agree to that!”

“We haven’t agreed on anything yet,” I look at the little brat sternly. “This point is mandatory. As I understand, Luka is already six and needs to start first grade. If you don’t want to study, that’s your problem, but don’t take away your brother’s chance at an education! And besides…” damn, what am I doing? Why am I even getting into this? “After our bet is over, I’ll help you financially. So you can finish school properly, the one I’ll enroll you in.”

I notice Ann looking at me in surprise and shock. She stays silent, lowers her gaze, and keeps eating, listening to our argument.

“That’s impossible,” the blonde argues skeptically but seriously. “We don’t have any documents, so nobody will accept us anywhere! And second, why the hell do you even care?”

“I don’t know,” I honestly don’t. “Call it a rich guy’s whim. You’ll be helping me a lot by participating in this bet, no matter who you choose.” Though I’m sure I’ll win. I simply can’t lose. And thanking these kids by giving them a chance at school is the least I can do for them. “As for documents, no problem. Money can arrange anything. A good friend of mine is the principal of the school my nephews attend, so getting you in won’t be difficult. I just need your consent. You’re the oldest and the most aware in your family, so you need to think this through and decide for your brother. Does he need this chance in life?”