Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One

Hailee's POV

The moment we stepped into the suite, I guided my boys to the couch and squatted before them. "Listen," I whispered, leaning close so only they could hear. "There's something you'll have to do for me, okay? Something small, but very important. You have to tell a little lie." Their brows shot up in unison, curiosity lighting their young faces. Oscar's eyes narrowed, sharp and suspicious. Oliver's mouth shaped a round O. Ozzy just waited, silent, eager to hear what I had to say.

"You mean like… fibs?" Oliver asked, his voice small.

"Yes." I swallowed and forced a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Only this once. I need you to say that your father—your real father—died when you were two. Say we were married, and say he passed away. Say it like you believe it."

Their faces changed slowly. Confusion, then tentative acceptance. "Why?" Ozzy asked quietly.

"Because there are things people will do if they know the truth," I said, my voice tight. "There are men who will come for you if they know where you came from. I'm trying to keep you safe. Sometimes grownups have to tell small lies to keep children safe."

Oscar's green eyes scanned my face. "Are you saying our father is dead, Mama? Is he really dead?"

My throat closed. My hands ached to tell them everything, to confess the mess of my life, but the words would only complicate things. So I lied with the steadiness of someone who'd practiced doing it for their children before.

"Yes," I said softly. "He's dead."

Oscar didn't look entirely convinced. He was too sharp for that. He lifted his chin, and before I could stop him, he asked the question I had feared.

"Is Alpha Nathan not our father?"

My heart hammered so loud I thought they could hear it. I kept my voice level, careful. "No," I said quickly. "Nathan is not your father."

A tiny, incredulous sound came from Oliver. Obviously, he didn't believe me.

"I did have a romantic relationship with Alpha Nathan once," I admitted, because folding every lie into more lies would break me. "But your father—your real father—was a different man. I… I made mistakes. I cheated on Nathan with your father. That's why things were complicated. But he—your father—he's gone now."

Oliver's face crumpled. "So he hates you?" he whispered, the way children ask about monsters.

"Yes," I said, swallowing hard. This was actually not a lie. Nathan did hate me. "He does. He's hurt. He's angry. He may never forgive me."

They stared at me, with small frowns spreading across their faces. I could see the ways they were trying to understand the situation. I hated every second of the deception, hated that my guilty choices had turned them into collaborators in my escape.

"I will tell you more someday—when it's safe, when it won't put you at risk. For now, we say your father died when you were two. Do you understand?"

They nodded slowly, solemn as if swearing to a treaty.

"Good." I forced my smile again and reached out to pull them into a quick, fierce hug. "We'll wash up. We'll eat. We'll rest. I promise I'll explain when the time is right."

They nodded in unison, but I could still see the questions lingering in their eyes. I helped them prepare for their bath, then waited while they washed. When they were clean, I laid them on the couches. I didn't put them on the bed—I was afraid Nathan might be angry if I did. He seemed so different now. Cold. Distant. Like he hated me.

I sat by them for a while, brushing their hair back as they drifted off to sleep. Their small chests rose and fell, peaceful at last.

The door opened then. Nathan walked in without looking at me and went straight to the bathroom. I listened to the shower running, my heart beating too fast. I told myself not to look when he came out, but I couldn't help it.

The bathroom door opened, and steam drifted out before Nathan stepped into the room. A white towel hung low on his waist, water still running down his chest. My heart thudded so hard it almost shook me apart. His body was harder, stronger than I remembered—his shoulders broad, his stomach carved with muscle. He was damn Sexy.

My eyes slid lower against my will, and heat shot up my face when I caught sight of the heavy bulge beneath the towel. I jerked my head away so fast my neck hurt.

"F-Fuck," I whispered under my breath, pressing my hand to my chest. I forced my eyes onto my boys, their small bodies curled on the couches, breathing softly in sleep. They were my anchor.

Movement drew my eyes back to him, despite how hard I tried not to look. Nathan's hands went to the towel. My breath stopped as he dropped it right there in front of me without shame. My cheeks burned, and I spun my head away as quickly as I could, but not fast enough to miss the sight of him reaching calmly for black pants. He pulled them on like nothing had happened. Like it was normal to go naked in front of me.

"Follow me," he said, his voice deep, commanding.

I froze, but my feet moved anyway. He led the way into the living room. I followed, my heart pounding, my palms damp.

He sat down in one of the chairs, stretching his legs out, his green eyes hard as stone when they landed on me. "You asked me before what I want," he said, his tone sharp but almost too calm.

I nodded slowly, afraid of the answer. "Yes."

"Nothing," he said flatly. "I don't want anything from you. Just pay me back the money I used to buy you—and then you're free."

His words punched the air from my lungs. Pay him back? With what? My chest squeezed tight, panic racing through me. I had no money. Nothing close to what he must have spent.

I swallowed hard, my voice cracking. "Nathan… I—I don't have that kind of money."

He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening, his eyes never leaving mine. "Then you'll find a way."