Page 61 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

“No.”

Her eyes narrow to slits. “No?”

“No. I don’t care. The battles you insist on waging are not mine and I…” I pause, struggling to speak confidently over my trembling jaw. “I don’t want to hurt the people I care about.”

My mother freezes. She’s a statue without even a strand of hair moving. “That you care about?”

My legs feel weak and the nausea intensifies.

“Have you fallen for him? Is that it? Seen a little dick and changed your tune? You’re not pregnant with his spawn are you?”

Even on her worst days, my mother would still try to be kind, but this is well beyond that. I’ve unlocked something awful inside her. Even if I try to reason that she’s just hurt, her words are cruel.

It takes all my strength to stand but once I’m up, I stay strong and stare down at her with as much compassion as I can muster.

“This is over. I’m not working for you anymore, and I’m not letting you manipulate me into your plans. And if you value your own health and well-being, you will turn away from this path, too. There’s nothing down it but darkness. You deserve better. You deserve peace, Mom.”

If looks could kill, I would drop dead right there and then.

She doesn't respond to me, so I turn and leave. The waiter appears with our drinks, but I pass by him without a glance and make a beeline for the door. This doesn’t feel real.

It’s like some kind of dream where I’ll wake up in bed with a text from her telling me that I’m late.

Outside in the warm afternoon air, it begins to sink in.

I stood up to her.

I told her no.

The joy of that rises, but then it halts abruptly as her words finally register in my mind.

Pregnant? I hadn’t given it much thought but now that she’s mentioned it, when was my last period?

23

NAOMI

Sneaking a pregnancy test into the house is going to be tough, especially when everything is checked and double-checked.

Things have been stressful, which could easily explain my lack of period, but my mother’s words are in my mind, and I can’t shake them. I’ll need to work out a way to get a test without raising suspicion.

That ends up taking a back seat for a few days because something much more fun crops up.

A late-night discussion with Zasha revealed that he missed his birthday while his memories were still nothing but fog, so I take it upon myself to throw a celebration for him. It’s also an excuse for a party which will help everyone loosen up given everything that’s happened.

Dariya takes charge of the food and decorations, so I throw myself into planning everything else. By the time Saturday rolls around, we’re all set for the garden party that Zasha agrees to pretend to be surprised about after all the work Dariya puts into keeping it a secret.

It’s nice to focus on something fun, especially with the weight having shifted from my shoulders. I’m not a snake if I’m no longer trying to get intel to my mother, right?

And the only information I let slip was that Zasha was here but my mother can’t do anything with that since she only knows the bare bones and has no idea that Zasha is still here.

Right?

I tell myself this each time doubt creeps up during the garden party.

Every time Fyodor takes me in his arms and thanks me for doing this nice thing, I tell myself that life as the nanny will be so much simpler now. Each time Daniil teases me over the top of his cocktail glass, I tell myself that enjoying their company is now perfectly innocent because I’m no longer trying to get dirt on any of them. We’re all just people. And every time Zasha thanks me for caring enough to do this for him, I tell myself that I will make up for the sneaking around I did just so I can sleep a little easier at night.

Music blares, drinks flow, and even a few of the guards join in the merriment to celebrate Zasha’s late thirty-seventh birthday. It warms my heart to see them all laughing and joking together. There are no lines in the sand here, no arguments about loyalty, and no family obligations. For this day, this single day, there are just three happy men, a boisterous child, and chilled-out guards.

---