Play It Right

2. Detour

Mishti Reis wanted to believe that routine wasn't necessary in order to live a well, balanced life.

Right?

She watched the energetic boys, who were supposed to be in their lessons for the day, run around the large private jet making quite the ruckus. With plastic pirate hooks on their hands and eye patches on, her frown deepened.

They were trying to duel one another, aiming for each other's stomachs and chests. She wanted to shout at them to be careful but she knew there was no point in trying. They wouldn't listen anyway.

Her thoughts of being a bad mother returned and she took a look over at the two bodyguards sitting across from her. They were in suits as per usual, however, she spotted large scribbles and messy red lipstick over their faces. A toddler sat between them on the table, a mess of open chip packets and sweets scattered on the surface alongside her mother's makeup bag.

The same one she begged and cried for until the older woman was reluctantly agreeing.

"Mommy, look! I make pretty!"

The toddler turned her head around, catching her mother's warm gaze as her lips twisted into a smile.

"You did? Oh, they look so beautiful, sweetheart. Now can you finally come here and eat your food, please?"

If anyone was wondering, her answer was no. It was a firm no.

Ayla whined, shaking her head wildly before returning to her masterpiece.

The woman gave one of the guards a look, raising a brow. She knew they looked after her daughter like their own, and wouldn't mind her asking, "Would one of you be able to feed her at least? She hasn't eaten anything since lunchtime."

"Of course, Miss. Reis. You get some rest, we will handle everything." Demir, the man with light brown hair and supporting lipstick up to his eyebrows said.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I mean I haven't gotten any rest for five straight years. I doubt this plane ride will magically solve that problem."

He laughed at that, not needing her to elaborate. Where the toddler was going through an awful case of terrible twos, she had no excuse for the five-year-old boys further down.

They had been truly nightmares since the day they were born. Although they were adorable and very hard to resist, it was all an act of how badly they could misbehave when no one was watching.

She had tried the whole gentle parenting thing, trying to solve tears and temper tantrums with gentle solutions but nothing seemed to work.

Nothing but the one person who chose to make himself known at that very moment.

The little curtain at the back ripped apart and out he came from the bedroom he had been locked up in since the moment they got on the plane.

In a matter of seconds, the constant noises and pretend fighting ceased to a complete halt.

"Hey, hey! Sit down!" The strict order was said with a lot of emphases, and then she heard more of it. "I said sit down and give me those. You two are supposed to be doing your colouring in right now, huh?"

"Yes, Baba." The tiny voices huffed in sync.

She couldn't help but hold in her laughter when their bodies shuffled into their seats and guilty expressions splayed onto their faces.

God, they were so freaking cute.

"And why haven't you touched your food yet? I don't pay people so much money for you two to disrespect them. Eat." His hard tone sliced through the whole area. "And when you're done, I'll think about letting you have these back."

The chubby cheeks were filled with piles of mashed potatoes and string beans as they ate in utter silence.

They were terrified their father would throw away the new toys he had gifted them and so they were trying to get into his good books.

She wished she had that superpower, for some reason, the boys behaved extremely well around the older man.

With a motion of his hand, the two bodyguards dismissed themselves and dipped their heads in a curt nod at Mishti. She could only smile and wave back whilst they slipped behind the curtain at the back and went to do whatever it was they were ordered to do.

Emir let out an annoyed huff, picking the little girl up from the table where she was sitting and placing her in his lap.

He had slipped into the seat where the guards had been sitting in front of the sleepy mother.

He took ahold of the baby plate, the same food that was on the boys plates was in this one, but only in much smaller portions.

He started with the sweet potato mash, pretending to fly the soft rubber baby spoon in her mouth.

Ayla giggled, opening her mouth wide and quickly swallowed the delicious mash.

Mishti gave him a curious look, the plane had suddenly gone from loud to a peaceful calm. "So, are you ever going to explain where on earth we're going now and why I needed to take the boys out of school for a week?"

He frowned, looking down at the gold watch wrapped around his wrist. He then returned to swooping the spoonfuls in little airplane motions for the toddler.

"I told you not to ask questions." Pause. "And I said three weeks not one."

She pursed her lips in heavy thinking. "Three weeks? What the hell did you do that could be so wrong that we would need to spend three weeks of our life away from California? The kids need their routine, Emir."

"And I need to fucking get business done. What the fuck do you want me to say?" He snapped, lifting his eyes up to finally look at her.

Her eyes narrowed on him darkly. "Don't swear."

He laughed, although it was prickly and soaked in sarcasm. "Oh really. You're gonna pretend we're that type of family, now?"

Mishti sunk her body back into the plush leather. "I'm just saying, we should try to be more mindful of the words we use. The twins's teacher told me just the other week that they're going around the playground shouting bullshit at everything like it's a game or something. That's pretty alarming."

Emir rolled his lifeless eyes.

"You're an ex-convict. If anyone is going to ruin their perfect image in the near future, it would be their unfortunate mother."

That was enough for her to jut her foot out and aim for his shin underneath the table.

He didn't flinch or grunt, a slippery smirk crept onto his face.

"If you really want to know, we're going to Russia for a while. There seems to be a little problem that I can't figure out how to get rid of without making a visit to the source itself. And you, my darling wife, are going to help me. After all, you didn't think having kids would mean your work is over, no?"

Her face hardened.

"They aren't staying in a safe house." She warned. "I'm serious, Emir. I won't let you do that."

The Turk let out a dramatic sigh, moving his head down to wipe the toddlers mouth with a napkin and squeezing her chubby cheeks playfully.

"Of course not. Only the best for my family."