Page 85 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

“Yeah, I appreciate that,” I snort dryly. “Gotta thank the guard for striking me so hard on the head, fucking asshole.”

“It makes sense now; when Vladimir tried to kill me and Naomi at the bar. I thought he was just insane but I…I used to work for Ivan. He knows what I’m capable of.”

“So he wanted you out of the way?” I climb to my feet slowly. “Because you’re the one protecting Fyodor.”

“Maybe. Only, Fyodor saved my life and ruined that plan, so…so what? They found out you were here? They found out about Naomi?” Daniil drags a hand through his sopping wet hair and paces.

Then, I spot the intense scarring Daniil has around one of his eyes. I’ve never seen him without his glasses before; somehow, it makes him look more human. I don’t need to know his history to know Ivan’s probably responsible for that.

“I don’t have the answers to that piece of the puzzle,” I murmur, “but there has to be more to it. I know my men, and they wouldn’t do what they did unless they thought I was in terrible danger.”

“There’s something we’re still not seeing,” Daniil mutters, and then his eyes snap to mine. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Not right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Fyodor is in there with Vladimir and he’s not thinking straight because of Dariya. We have to get to him. We have to save him before Vladimir can make good on his threats. Like fuck am I letting him destroy this family for a second longer.

“What about Naomi?” I ask, still trying to work out how she fits into all of this. What little I heard of her past makes her a target of Vladimir’s for sure, but was she really a threat?

Or is it just another way to hurt Fyodor?

If he cares about her half as much as I do, maybe that’s the answer. The fastest way to take down a Pakhan is to rip out his heart.

“Later,” Daniil says, sliding an arm around my waist to support me as my steps become unsteady. The pain in his voice is unmistakable and I feel it too, in my own heart. “Naomi is a painful truth for later. First, we’ve got to get you fixed up. Then we save my brother.”

33

NAOMI

How is this happening? How did things get so fucked-up so quickly?

It’s been nonstop since the restaurant. Laying face down in the grass, I contemplate staying there. So what if Daniil is letting me live? What kind of life am I going to have now?

I can’t think. My thoughts cloud and the tears just keep coming. They blur my vision and strip my cheeks raw. I lay there unable to move, unable to do anything as Daniil walks away and leaves me in the darkness.

Then, another gunshot rings out like a crack of thunder, followed by a splash.

Zasha!

No, they didn’t! They couldn’t have!

It spurs me up onto my hands and knees, terror gripping me like a vice. I have to get out of here. I have to get as far away as I can and then…then…

I have no idea. No fucking clue what I’m going to do.

I crawl on my hands and knees through the garden, scarcely feeling the bite of twigs and small stones against my knees and palms. I reach the small stone wall that leads to the garage and follow it, not stopping for anything.

I have to get out of here.

It repeats like a mantra, the only thought in my head by the time I break into a sprint and run as fast as my bare feet will take me. Reaching the garage, I fling open the side door and make a beeline for the wall display where all the keys hang. Grabbing the first one I see, I press the button repeatedly until the lights on one of the cars blink into life.

I’m inside before I can even consider whose car this might be. A turn of the key, a flick of the locks, and I race out of the garage and down the driveway. No one stops me, and the gates are already open.

I don’t question why.

I can’t.

I slam my bare foot on the pedal and grip the steering wheel like my life depends on it. Out past the gate and onto the main road, I leave Dunayevsky Estate in the rearview mirror, and drive with no destination in mind.

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