7

Focus, Nazar. There’s a rescue operation going on here.

I pull out a few wipes and gently clean the “injured” spot on Soli’s leg. She puts on a dramatic show, hissing and groaning, while the boys stand there, dark and silent, watching.

“Miss, thank you so much!” Egor says dramatically. “Ever since our mom left us, Dad’s been a mess! He didn’t even bring basic wipes to the playground. And he has three kids! At this rate, he’ll forget one of us somewhere out of sheer distraction…”

I shoot the little bastard a sharp look, silently telling him not to overact.

“I’m not forgetting anyone,” I grumble, pulling Soli’s leggings back down. “See, sweetheart? There’s nothing serious there. You got more scared than hurt.”

“It still hurts,” the little actress sniffles theatrically. “Dad… kiss my knee…”

I look at this manipulator, and I’m completely powerless. Tears in her eyes, and the faintest sly smile on her lips. What a tiny fox.

“Of course!” the brunette suddenly chimes in. “Didn’t you know that if you kiss the sore spot, the pain goes away immediately?” she says seriously, hiding a smile.

You witches teamed up on me. Fine.

I bend down and kiss the little rascal’s knee. Instantly, a smile spreads across the princess’s doll-like face, and she springs off the bench like nothing ever happened.

“Thank you again,” I tell the stranger, handing back the wipes. “I really can be pretty absent-minded…”

“I’m the one who should apologize,” the girl says unexpectedly, looking guilty. “I judged you by appearances and said a lot of unfair and hurtful things. It’s just… your image doesn’t look anything like a father of three.” She lowers her eyes shyly. “You know… usually fathers with a lot of kids look more… how should I put it… domesticated.”

I give a faint smile at the comparison, fully understanding what she means. But that description doesn’t fit everyone. Take Kirill, for example. He’s a shark in business, steel-nerved, ruthless in his decisions. Women stare at him constantly, even though he’s a happily married father of three.

Although… the moment his kids or Vicky enter his field of vision, his gaze softens noticeably, and nothing in the world can pull his attention away from his family. Maybe that’s what “domesticated” really means.

“Don’t take it to heart,” I wave it off casually. “I wasn’t always like this. After my wife left, I decided to change my image.”

Why the hell am I lying like that? Nobody’s twisting my arm. But for some reason, in front of this girl, I want to seem like the best version of myself. I don’t want her looking at me like some cheap womanizer. I want her to see a serious, worth her attention man.

“Dad,” Egor suddenly cuts in. “You seem to have forgotten, but you promised us ice cream and cotton candy,” he says slyly. “Let’s treat the lady too. She helped, after all…”

Clever little bastard. For creativity alone, I could shake his hand.

“Well, if the lady and her son agree…” I glance at the brunette with an unmistakable smile.

“We’d love to,” the girl answers shyly, a light blush touching her cheeks. “My name is Ann.”