Page 17 of The Bratva's Nanny

A sound filled the gap between us, a sound between a cough and a hiccup.

I began to think it was my ears until I realized she had physically choked. Rosy cheeks were now a deeper shade of scarlet, and the blank expression was gone. Something else masked her features, something strangely appealing.

I’d been around women long enough to know desire when I saw it. Seeing her eyes light up with that flickering glow was, indeed, amusing.

For the first time in a while, I couldn’t control it; I felt the corner of my lips curve to a grin. “Before you get it twisted—”

“I wasn’t getting anything twisted,” she interrupted, clearly defensive.

And I felt my smile slip.

I rubbed the crease between my brows. “Sure, you weren’t. Back to what’s important. You’re good at what you do, no doubt, and I know you don’t know me, but you will in due time. You see, Miss Simmons, the life I live is not as colorful as yours....”

She made a face, probably calling me shit in her head for immediately summing up her life without knowing her. But I ignored her.

“You might have already figured it out, but I am not a man of assumptions. I will not assume that you know anything. So, let me enlighten you. I belong to the Bratva. And all you should know is that we’re what you might call a Russian crime family—even if I don’t fucking care what you call it. There are things you consider to be part of a normal life. Well, I don’t have that...that normal life. I sleep with a gun under my pillow. That couch you’re seated on? There’s a Glock 19 and S&W Shield Plus hidden below.”

If I thought her eyeballs couldn’t grow any wider, she managed to prove me wrong.

“Do you know what that means? It means I have danger and violence on my fucking daily to-do list. The life I’m living now is incomplete if I don’t check those boxes to make sure shit happens somewhere, but that shit happens in my favor. Are you following?”

The fear in her eyes had returned, and her fingers folded into the couch. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you? I mean, it only makes sense that you will. The only reasons you could be telling me this is because you either trust me or want to end my life.”

“Your body would’ve been thrown into the van and incarcerated alongside that fucking pig’s if I wanted to kill you.”

She swallowed. It was surprising to see her—the brave and bold one—cower in apprehension, and it made me want to prey on her a little while longer.

I combed my fingers through my hair.

“I have one rule: No witnesses. With the exception of my men and direct parties, anyone else who witnesses my crimes has to die right there. There is only one reason you’re still alive, Maria. And it has everything to do with my daughter.”

Confusion lingered in her eyes. “Because I saved her?”

“Yes, that. Polina is a huge part of me; one I cannot ever ignore. But it doesn’t matter that I have to go through this black-and-white painted world; she didn’t choose the life she has. It is my responsibility to protect her with my life.”

I didn’t expect her to nod, but she did. “Was that why you got her enrolled at PMAA? So she could learn how to defend herself?”

“You truly are a smart one.” I’d meant to keep my thoughts to myself, but they went leaking out. “However, I’m pulling her out of the Academy.”

With immediate speed, she sprang up on her feet, her hair falling forward as she glared knives at me. Her jaw dropped, and her small mouth hung open. “What?”

***

She was firing rapidly, not bothering to hold in her concerns.

“Why would you do that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I understand your protective instinct. As her father, you’d want to take her away from any dangerous spots. But she’s making so much progress already. You should’ve seen her when she shoved that bastard and pulled the brakes. Stopping her now won’t help her.”

When she finished, she was breathing fast. Her chest went up and down, and her breasts caught my attention through the thickness of her cashmere blouse. Not overly voluptuous, but also not flat. They had the perfect shape, like they would fit into my hands if I molded them.

She looked at me funny, and I frowned.

“Sit the fuck down.”

Nothing prepared her for my harshness, and she flinched, like she’d been bitten by a snake—bitten by me. But I didn’t take it back, even if she recoiled like a scolded child and retook her seat.

I kept her gaze locked with mine when I said, “My enemies are my daughter’s enemies. They’re not about to stop coming after her, and trust me: I don’t need a nanny who will fucking run away at the first sight of danger.”

My jaw clenched.

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