His Wicked Temptation

Bonus

✈︎

EMILIANO

The moment I stepped into my house, the bone-chilling Russian air was replaced by the comforting warmth of the fireplace. The scent of my wife's mouthwatering meal greeted me, letting me know I was in for a very nice dinner, and perhaps an even better dessert later.

The soft laughter of my two children and my wife reached my ears, the sound so soul-wrenchingly beautiful that I had to place a hand on my heart to make sure the organ didn't beat out of my chest. Ten years, and still, this once-undead organ thrived to life whenever I heard the joyful sounds of my family. My home.

I don't necessarily believe in past lives, but if I had one before this, I must have been a saint. Then again, no amount of virtuous deeds could've prepared me for this. This solidarity. And just to spend another life with Rosabelle Nikolayeva, I would gladly become a good man.

I looked up to find my wife hurrying down the stairs, her eyes locked onto mine, a dazzling smile lighting up her face. As soon as she was close enough, I captured her lips with mine, savoring her taste on my tongue, while my arms worked their way around her body, holding her tightly.

She gasped but pulled me closer, recognizing the necessity of this moment. With two little devils running wild in the house, quality time with my wife had become more and more scarce day by day. And I didn't mind stealing a moment just for us, at least, until. . .

"Papa!"

Of course.

Rosabelle immediately pulled away from my embrace, and despite my displeased grunt, I let her. She's always been as shy as a wallflower when it comes to kissing her husband in front of the kids.

Leviathan and Sergei bounded down the stairs two at a time, probably competing to see who could reach me first. "Careful, malyshi," my wife said, stepping aside to make room for them. The moment they reached me, I scooped both of them up in my arms, their dissatisfied groans making me laugh. Rosabelle chuckled too as Sergei tried to push Levi out of my grip, with Levi doing the same a moment later.

"Eto nespravedlivo, papa!" Sergei whined as I kissed both their foreheads before letting them down. "So, little ones, did you listen to your mama today?"

Their eyes widened as they exchanged glances, and from the corner of my eye, I saw my wife smiling that beautiful smile of hers. I pulled her closer beside me, eager to feel her warmth as Levi replied, "We were good. But Sergei tried drawing hearts with mama's red lipstick. Of course, I stopped him."

His proud posture earned him a slap from his little brother. "Hey! You were the one who stole it!"

"Oh God, you kids really ruined my lipstick?" my wife exclaimed, though there was an amused glint in her eyes.

"No, mamma, non è successo niente con il tuo rossetto," Levi said, turning his glare from Sergei to his mom.

Pride swelled in my chest hearing the Italian rolling off his tongue so smoothly, as if the language were second nature to him. While Sergei was more physically agile than Levi, despite being smaller in frame, Levi was the intellectually gifted one. And I don't care if it makes me a boasting father, my son was a lot quicker-witted than most kids his age.