41 Ultimatum

Vicky:

With horror, I watch my nighttime nightmare and the father of my children — all in one person — walk into the huge living room. My condition is very close to fainting; I’m truly trapped. He somehow found out and found us.

“Turns out,” Mr. Yartsev starts speaking again, coming closer, “that Kirill is my son, and your boys are my grandchildren.”

I feel sick — truly sick — and tears gather in my eyes, because only now do I notice how all the men present look alike. But I am not going to give up. These are MY children, and I won’t give them to anyone!

“Why didn’t you say at that charity event that we have children together?” Kirill looks at me angrily, and a volcano of emotions erupts inside me.

“And what was I supposed to tell you? ‘Kirill, I’ve got an interesting cashback for you here?!’ And besides, as far as I recall, you weren’t exactly in the mood for talking!” I snap, wanting to claw this seducer’s face off. “And what makes you think the kids are even yours?” I lift my chin proudly, holding Andry tighter and pressing closer to Valentina with Egor. I wanted to anger him — and it worked. The brunette’s fists clenched, and his gaze became even scarier.

I notice someone else entering the living room, holding a plate of sandwiches and humming something. Looking closer, I see another young man, identical to Kirill, absolutely the same. Many things become clear, and the most important—now the boys’ relation to these brothers is obvious.

“Oh, so this is your little game?!” Anger takes over despair. “Taking turns fooling girls?!”

“That evening, I told you I’m not Nazar, but Kirill,” the first brunette explains. “Nazar is my brother.”

“Oh, screw you all! Freaks!” I can’t withstand the moral pressure anymore and tears stream from my eyes. “I don’t need anything from any of you, I’m not claiming anything! I raised the kids without a father for a year, and continuing to do so won’t be a problem! Their father is an astronaut, and as for the biological donor — I have no claims!”

I can see that my words didn’t please any of the men present, except Nazar. He didn’t care about anything, but he watched everything happening with interest while chewing his sandwiches, sprawled out on the couch.

And how could the sons of such an influential and respected man like Oleg Yartsev turn into such bastards and sellout gigolos?!

“Victoria, we need to calm down and talk,” Yartsev Sr. addresses me in a silky tone.

“About what?” I look at the man through tears. “These are my children, and I guarantee that for your capital, business, and other property, they pose no threat. I’m not one of those who happily sue fathers for profit. You don’t have to worry about that; I can write a written refusal from everything that connects the children to you.”

“And here, it seems you haven’t understood at all,” the head of the family looks at me piercingly, angered by my words. “And stop standing there! Come on, sit down, don’t stand there with the children!” the man snaps and gestures toward the huge couch, ordering Nazar with his eyes to move. We cautiously sit down, instinctively pressing the little ones to ourselves, and then the man continues, “They are also my grandchildren and heirs. No one is planning to refuse them. The boys will not be kept away from me and Kirill, which is why you are here.”

“And for that, you had to kidnap us?” I look at the men defiantly. “Fine, if you want, I agree that their grandfather will be in their lives. There’s nothing bad about that — it’s fair to them and to you. Kirill, if he wants, can visit them too. Agreed. Now can you return us to where you took us from? We need to go home; the children are very tired.”

“You are already home,” Oleg states peremptorily, interrupting my tirade. “From now on, you will live here until Kirill looks at options for buying his own house.”