Page 10 of The Bratva's Nanny

That was what I liked to hear.

“Yes....” Another cough, and more blood on my shoes. “I just need to...I just need to....”

“You just need to what?”

“Rita.”

“Who the fuck is Rita?” Lev glanced around the room.

The restlessness and tension in the room were high. My men were eager, their guns aimlessly moving from head to head. All they needed was a word, just a confirmation, and the whole place would be a chaotic mess.

Not yet.

“Rita....” He wriggled like an earthworm, pleaded, and couldn’t look more miserable than he already did. “My secretary.”

I eyed Lev, and he gave the word to Evgeni to fetch Rita. In seconds, a slender redhead with teary eyes, horn-rimmed glasses, and shaking knees was shoved into the room. She met my gaze, and I watched her hold her breath, like she was holding onto her last bubble of life.

“Your boss owes me some money, and he says you have access to it.” I pointed my gun at the man on the ground. “I want it now.”

“Get to work,” Lev barked, and I could almost see her soul floating out of her body.

Evgeni had one strong grip on her arm while she staggered to the back of the room, opened a hidden safe behind a chess wall painting, and extracted a black bag that hopefully had all of my money and not a cent less.

After Lev carefully confirmed the amount and gave a thumbs up, I removed my shoes from a pale, shock-ridden Martin. My withdrawal didn’t do much; he could barely move.

I signaled Evgeni and told him in Russian, “Get two others to take him away.”

He nodded and immediately sprung to action.

Lev forced the girl on her knees, ordered her to look away, and jacked the bag while I walked away from the crime scene. He followed closely behind me, making sure no one looked up until we were out of the building.

The showdown with Martin Claude was not just about the money. In this city, the maintenance of fear and respect was dire. My reputation was at stake. If I let him go free, we could be perceived as weak. And I’d be damned before I ever let that happen.

The unfortunate bastard was just one out of many others. If anyone dared to fuck around with us, they had to be prepared to face the music.

Chapter Four – Maria

“Bye, Maria!”

Smiling, I waved to the chatty eight-year-old brunette, who couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was about the class for today. She waved back, flashed a toothy grin, and disappeared down the hallway with her jiggling Hello Kitty backpack.

“See you inside, Anita.”

I liked her. I liked all the kids at PMAA. Listening to them go on and on about various jiu-jitsu lessons or what they’d had for breakfast could be such a delight...if I didn’t have to stand outside under the guise of waiting for each of my students to arrive while, in truth, I was hiding from Mr. George and not facing reality.

“Hi, Miss. Simons.” Another kid with ginger hair, ocean-blue eyes, and a high-pitched, sing-song voice waved at me. Paula McCarthy. Small, quiet, but super smart.

I returned the polite wave. “Hello, Paula. See you inside.”

Thankfully, she didn’t bother to stop for a chat.

One by one, more kids appeared in the parking lot as their parents dropped them off. Anxiety pressed in on me like a stack of boulders on my shoulders. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, feeling the sweat form on my palms, and made efforts to take my mind off personal disturbances and focus on work.

But it proved to be difficult.

The darn hand dryers weren’t the only thing waging wars in my head. Finn Jameson haunted my dreams at night and remained in my waking thoughts.

How the hell was I going to pay him fifty grand in a month?

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