Page 100 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

Below, the surrounding water is flooded with light. The bridge is down and filled with vehicles. The quiet pop of gunfire drifts up like a whisper.

“Ivan?”

He ignores me, intent on dragging me toward the landing pad. Panic takes over. Where the hell are we going? Was the great Ivan Shinsky running away from a fight?

And taking me. I could end up God knows where.

“Ivan, where are you taking me? Where are we going? Ivan!” My yells pitch and I start to fight against his grip with all the strength I have. Too many horrors flash through my mind; being pushed off the roof for pissing him off, getting carted away to the middle of nowhere, and being forced to live out my days until my child is born, or worse. All of it fuels the terror in my heart.

I scratch and twist, turn and fight, kick at his knee, and even reach up to pull his hair. Anything I can think of to get him to break his grasp on me.

“Shut the fuck up!” Ivan turns around and whips the butt of the pistol in the air. The gun impacts my face, smashing into the bridge of my nose. My vision flashes white and my head spins. It’s a struggle to keep my feet underneath me until a roaring fills the air. Ivan finally comes to a stop.

As my vision returns, blurred from the tears that flood my eyes, the smoke around us whips up into the air. Flames pull upward, reaching out to the source of the noise as if to coax the noise down. Out of the darkness melts a helicopter with red lights blinking along the bottom.

This must be for Ivan. His ticket out of here. If I let him take me, there’s no telling where I might end up.

“Let me go,” I sob, twisting my arm so fiercely in his grip that my skin burns at the point of contact. “Please!”

“No!” Ivan roars, pulling me closer to him as the helicopter descends.

For some reason, it doesn’t land. It hovers in the air and then begins to rotate slowly until the side door is visible. With a dull clunk of metal, the side door slides open and my eyes widen as a tell-tale sexy man in sunglasses slides to the edge with a large black rifle in his hands.

“Daniil…?” My heart starts to lift, but before I can fully comprehend that Daniil is above me, the door Ivan and I just ran through is kicked open with a loud clatter. Ivan drags me against his body and presses the cold, hard metal of the handgun against my cheek while we turn to the door.

Smoke billows out of the open door, drawn forward by the helicopter and then cast aside by the wind from the blades. Orange and red flames dance through the smoke, but they don’t quite make it through the door. Someone else does, though.

Someone tall, with dark hair and tanned skin streaked in dirt from the smoke and sweat from the fire. His white shirt is ripped open at the chest, and his black suspenders look like they are the only things holding the fabric together. Blood stains his shirt and his pants. His dark, dangerous eyes glint as they reflect the light of the helicopter. He strides forward without hesitation, pumping the shotgun in his hands and then taking aim toward me and Ivan.

Fyodor.

Never in his life has he looked as fucking sexy or dangerous as he does now.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m terrified and aroused all at the same time. Why are they here? Did they come for Ivan?

“Give her back!” Fyodor roars, continuing to stalk forward. The wind from the helicopter pulls at clothing and hair alike, and I squint, trying to peer through the wild strands of my hair. Ivan stumbles backward, dragging me with him despite my best efforts.

“You’ve got nowhere to go, Ivan,” Fyodor continues, his voice deep and feral as he shouts. “It’s over, do you understand? Your men? Dead. My men? Shitting in the carved-out skulls of the assholes that tried to defend you. You want real power, Ivan?”

Fyodor spreads his arms wide, tilting the shotgun off to the side.

“This is power. You see, Ivan? Men and women who are loyal to me because they know I will have their back and lead with compassion, not blood.”

“Fuck off,” Ivan snarls. “I’ll kill her, don’t you realize that? Your arrogance is fucking boundless!”

Fyodor doesn’t stop walking forward. Doesn’t he care? Doesn’t he see the gun imprinting on my cheek?

“I’ll kill her and the baby!”

Fyodor stops suddenly and Ivan scoffs out a victorious noise. “This is power,” he spits. “All that shit you have, and yet you stop for me. Because I hold the power here. I hold the one thing that matters.”

I can’t take my eyes off of Fyodor and when his dark eyes lock onto mine, it’s like he’s punched me in the gut. I can’t breathe.

“Naomi.” The warm way he says my name makes my knees knock together. I can’t believe he’s really here. “I’m sorry. I know right now, that might not mean much, but I am sorry. There’s so much for us to talk about, but I need you to know right here, right now that I am sorry. And I love you.”

More tears flood my eyes and I dig my nails harder into Ivan’s arm. This has to be some kind of dream. Too many days spent in solitude, too much pain from being captive that my psyche surely cracked, and this is all a dream.

And if it is, then…

---