Page 103 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

My brow dips and my teeth sink lightly into my lower lip. Ivan’s mockery of that had been one thing I had yet to bring up to Zasha. I’d told Daniil and asked him to do some digging to see if there was any truth to Ivan’s claims before I broke Zasha’s heart.

As it turned out, the truth was even more painful.

I cup his face with both hands and study his eyes. “Zasha. I learned something when I was with Ivan, and I had Daniil check it because I needed to make sure before I said anything.”

“What is it?” His face turns serious, but his tone remains warm. “You can tell me. You know you can tell me anything.”

“Your mother…her death wasn’t a suicide. Ivan had her killed.”

“What?” He speaks hoarsely, his eyes fluttering.

“Daniil went digging into Vladimir’s stuff, and he found some communication between her and Vladimir after your father’s death. Apparently, they knew each other, and she was seeking comfort. He directed her to Ivan, who pretended to be her friend. Grieving, she confessed to Ivan what you had done. He saw an opportunity, and I’m so sorry, but she was assassinated by someone in your house loyal to Ivan. Ivan hoped that your own people would kill you in retaliation and then your family would crumble to dust, leaving him a step closer to power. In some letters, it’s clear he did not expect you to fight so hard to stay relevant.”

Thank God for old dogs not trusting technology and communicating with a paper trail.

Zasha remains silent. I stroke his cheek and then cradle his head with my fingers buried in his hair.

“In her letters to Ivan, she spoke often of how she loved her son and knew he would always do the right thing to protect people. She never blamed you, and Daniil reckons the suicide note you found was a fake. She was never ashamed of you. She loved you.”

A flash of hurt crosses Zasha’s features, and then he nods very slowly. “I…I do not know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I wanted you to know. I just wanted to make sure I had all the details first.”

“I have carried guilt over her death for two years and it was not mine to carry.” Zasha’s jaw trembles and his eyes shine. He grits his teeth. “Thank you for telling me. Fuck. If Ivan wasn’t already dead I would kill him again.”

“You could always break into prison and kill Vladimir,” I point out gently. Fyodor’s decision to have his father arrested for the shooting at the hospital was a quick and dirty way to get the eyes of the law looking away from the family, but I would sleep easier if that monster was dead.

“I could.” For a moment, he seems to contemplate it, then shakes his head. “No. That man doesn’t have any time left; and having to live with seeing Fyodor—all of us—succeeding is a better punishment.”

I kiss him sweetly on the lips and then on his brow. “Okay. If you need anything, though, I am here for you.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Zasha.”

He steps away, wandering slowly toward the pool. Daniil appears a second later and slides an arm around my waist. He pulls me away from the buffet table with a grin and plants a deep, powerful kiss on my mouth.

“Hey, lover,” he grins, then glances at Zasha. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I told him about his mother.”

“Oh.” Daniil’s happy face falters for a moment, but it warms my heart to see. We’ve come so far from these men wanting to kill each other.

“He’ll be okay, I think.” I stare at him. Should I have told him sooner? Later? I’m unsure.

“Naomi!” Dariya’s cheery voice reaches my ears. Turning, she comes sprinting from the house, followed by a concerned Fyodor.

“Be careful!” he calls.

Dariya sprints toward me, her hair flying. The moment she reaches me, I bundle her up into a tight hug.

“Dariya! Oh sweetie, look at you!”

Despite her pale skin, her eyes sparkle with warmth, and her smile is as toothy as ever. Fyodor stops a few feet away, and I kiss Dariya on her forehead.

“Daddy told me I’m going to be a big sister!”

“Oh!” I hadn’t been sure when Fyodor was going to tell her that I was pregnant, but her excitement is infectious, and I laugh. “Yes, yes, you are! So you will have to practice being so good and grown up. After some rainbow cake, of course.”

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