Page 18 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

Fyodor glances at me. “Out with it.”

“Naomi. You said it before; she’s not part of this world, and she already tried to call the cops once. I’m not saying she’s a full liability, and she might be too scared to talk to anyone, but if the guilt gets too much for her…”

“She might turn herself in.” Fyodor sighs, shaking his head hard enough for a few curls to fall across his forehead. “Fuck. How was she when you were with her? Was there any indication she’d try to reach out to someone about this?”

“Uncertain.” It’s impossible to keep the smirk from my face. “She was having a lot of trouble sleeping but I helped with that.”

“Did you fuck her?”

His question is sharp. It'd almost be threatening if I didn’t know him so well.

“No,” I reply easily. “But I did taste her and she was divine. Why, are you jealous?”

Fyodor rolls his eyes and his tense stance relaxes a fraction. “I don’t get jealous. I get even. Besides, you’re a mere appetizer compared to the meal I provide.”

“Ouch.” Pressing my hand to my chest in faux hurt, a snort of amusement rises while I follow Fyodor out of the room. “She was out like a light when I was finished.”

“Because your technique was so boring?” Fyodor glances at me with one arched brow and I laugh.

“You are jealous.”

An elbow to the ribs is my only reply. With just a glance, two guards take up position outside of Zasha’s room, and together, we head for the main staircase. Already, the world is turning pink with sunrise outside the large windows lining the hall, and tiredness teases at the edge of my mind.

“I know you want to keep this a secret, but how do you plan to keep Zasha and all of this a secret from your father?” Vladimir Dunayevsky has one of the bloodiest reputations in Bratva history and he’s never once been able to let things go. It was a stroke of luck that Fyodor was able to take control when he did, but it’s an open secret how much Vladimir hungers for the throne he once had.

“He won’t find out,” Fyodor remarks, hurrying down the stairs.

“If he catches wind that the enemy is under your roof, he won’t let that slide,” I warn him. “You know how long I’ve suspected he still has people on his payroll here.”

Reaching the next floor, Fyodor takes a turn toward Dariya’s room and sighs deeply. “I know, and I appreciate your concerns. I’ll make sure that only men vetted by either one of us are allowed up on the third floor. No one else. And if he finds out then…”

We pause outside Dariya’s room and Fyodor reaches for the handle, but he doesn’t enter.

“We will keep this quiet for as long as we can. With Ester, the chances of recovery are high. In the meantime, I want you to do some digging. Find out what’s happening in the Chernykh pipeline. Surely they’ve noticed their Pakhan is missing. If they suspect us, even slightly, I want to get ahead of them.”

I nod. “Understood.”

Fyodor steps into Dariya’s room and then pauses, turning to face me.

“One more thing.”

“Sir?”

“Don’t let Naomi out of your sight.”

“Understood.”

7

NAOMI

“Why so glum?”

Tearing my gaze from the tiny piece of rubber flapping against the window, I glance at Daniil who keeps his attention focused on the road.

“I’m not glum.”

“Is it the car?” His knuckles tighten slightly around the steering wheel. “Flashbacks?”

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