Page 8 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

FYODOR

“Hello?”

At first, nothing but fuzzy static comes through the phone and my brow tightens. Pulling the phone away, I double-check that it’s definitely Naomi calling, then I press it back to my ear.

“Naomi? Are you in a tunnel?”

It strikes me then that she didn’t tell me where she was going, but I don’t have to worry when Daniil is with her. More fluffy static comes across the line and my irritation rises. Did she butt-dial me?

I don’t have time for this.

Just as I consider hanging up and calling Daniil instead, Naomi’s voice finally comes across the line and my heart plummets. Her words tremble and what does come through clearly sounds slurred and panicked.

“Fyodor?”

“Naomi.” My grip tightens tenfold on my phone. “What has happened?”

“—crashed.”

“What?”

“I-I crashed,” she repeats. “I hit someone. I-I’m so sorry. I ran someone over; they were in the middle of the road, and I didn’t see them, and now I think they might be dead, and I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Fyodor. What do I do?”

I’m on my feet within her first sentence and by the time she finishes talking, I’m down the hall and running toward the entrance foyer.

“Naomi, I need you to listen to me.”

“Mm-hmm.” She doesn’t sound very sure of herself.

“Naomi, I mean it. I need you to tell me exactly where you are.”

“Um …”

Static silence follows which I now reason to be the wind after glancing outside to see snow whipping past the window. I never should have let her leave. Usually I wouldn’t have, but in all the time Naomi has worked here, she’s been honest and absolutely doted on my daughter. That, in its own way, earned my trust, and if she said she needed to leave, I didn’t have the heart to say no.

Not when she was standing before me, utterly captivating and daring to talk back. Having an outsider here, someone not bound by old laws or loyalty, has been refreshing and exciting.

Until now.

“I don’t know,” Naomi finally sobs. “I can’t see anything. I was just driving b-but I don’t know how far I got. He came out of nowhere, I swear. I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you hurt?” That should have been my first question, and my next is about Daniil until I reach the kitchen and spot him standing near a counter, spearing pasta bows onto a fork.

Why the fuck isn’t he with her?

One thing at a time.

“I don’t know,” Naomi sobs and her voice grows faint as the wind grows louder.

“Naomi. Listen to me. Stay where you are. Don’t move. Don’t touch the body. If you see anyone who isn’t me, you get inside and lock the door in that jeep. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she replies shakily.

“Repeat it back to me.”

As she does, I snap my fingers to get Daniil’s attention and his calm face tightens the moment we lock eyes. Abandoning his pasta, he approaches and reaches me just as Naomi finishes reciting my instructions.

“Okay, good. I’m coming to get you. Do you hear me? I’m coming.”

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