Page 16 of The Bratva's Nanny

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand why you’re choosing to speak in the vaguest manner. You can talk to me without sounding like a cryptic bot.”

Again with that confidence.

I raised a brow at her tone.

If she wanted to be straightforward, then I could do straightforward.

“Hamilton.”

My words dropped like a heavy weight in the silence.

Realization flashed through dark hazel and green, and I caught her throat bob with the most subtle gulp.

Good.

She’d been caught. Now, she remembered, even if I doubted that she would ever forget.

I leaned forward, tilting closer.

The air between us was warm, as opposed to the chill in the room, and I was close enough to know what she smelled like: bergamot and a mix of gardenia. I ignored the whiff of distraction and focused instead on her big doe eyes.

“Eighteen months ago, you were there, weren’t you? At Hamilton? You saw me,” I heard myself say, like she had seen beyond the surface. “I know who you are, Maria—”

“I’m sorry....” Her intrusion was curt, with shifty eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“I strongly advise that you desist from finishing that sentence, Miss Simmons.” I was in no mood for games, and I made sure I let her know with a cutting tone. “The last person who tried that fucking line with me took one silver souvenir to the stomach.”

Her eyes widened, and I pointed at her.

“You know exactly what went down in that hotel that day. Now’s not the best time to play stupid.”

After a moment of self-reflection, she responded quietly, “Understood.”

I couldn’t help it; I watched the girl seated on my couch. Her sudden silence and submission spoke volumes. I expected someone as audacious as her to try and challenge me, but she didn’t. It was a technique, one I recognized all too well.

When the enemy had you backed into a corner, the smartest thing to do was play along. Pretend to be on the same page with them, and, when they least suspect it...strike.

For whatever reason, I wasn’t sure why the girl in front of me would want to strike. I had barely given her sufficient reasons to believe I was the enemy. But I sure as hell knew that, from the minute her eyes had met mine on the deserted road, she felt threatened, backed up into a corner.

I decided to tread carefully, to tell her exactly what I wanted from her without scaring her off.

“You’ve got skills, the type that’s very rare amongst the womenfolk. Confidence, courage, audacity. You possessed them that day and even now.”

The room fell quiet. Then, more silence.

I made a sound with my throat.

Her blank stare was more irritating than watching her gape.

She looked on, unsure of how to respond, so I said, “Thank you for saving Polly.”

Maria had already begun shaking her head and edging closer, her voice softer than anything I’d heard before. “Please, Mr. Varkov. You don’t have to thank me. Polina is my student, and a favorite of mine. I would never stand and watch anything bad happen to your daughter. Never.”

I gave a curt nod. “I know.”

She relaxed.

“That is why I want you.”

---