Page 71 of The Bratva Bosses' Nanny

Aleksandr pulls out a chair for me. “Simple but perfect,” he adds, giving me a warm smile.

As we settle in and begin to eat, the conversation flows easily. We tell each other stories about our childhoods, moments that have shaped us into the people we are today.

Dmitri shares about his days in the army, while Nikolai talks about his time as a professional race car driver. Aleksandr tells stories of growing up in a small village in Russia before he became the powerful man he is now.

At one point, Nikolai tries to steal a shrimp off my plate, but I’m quick to slap his hand away. “Get your own,” I laugh.

Dmitri raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his eyes. “I bet I can guess your favorite part of the meal.”

I lean back, amused. “Oh, really? Let’s hear it then.”

He eyes me mischievously. “It’s not the shrimp, and it’s not the pasta. It’s the chocolate cake.”

I can’t help but laugh, impressed and slightly taken aback by his accuracy. “You got me. I can’t resist a good chocolate cake.”

Nikolai butts in, a sly grin on his face. “Well, for me, it’s all about the drinks. This wine is top-notch.”

Aleksandr nods in agreement. “Nikolai and his fine tastes in wine. Remember the time he almost cried when that rare bottle got smashed?”

Dmitri chuckles, joining in. “Oh, I remember. He mourned it like a lost friend.”

Nikolai rolls his eyes but can’t hide his smile. “It was a good bottle, okay? You guys just don’t understand the finer things.”

I tease him, “Like your collection of Hawaiian shirts? Those ‘finer things’?”

He pretends to be offended. “Hey, those shirts are classic. You’re just not ready for that level of style.”

Dmitri shakes his head, still laughing. “Sure, Nik. Next, you’ll be bringing back bell-bottoms.”

Aleksandr raises his glass. “To Nikolai’s fashion sense, may it always be unique.”

We all laugh, clinking our glasses. “To Nikolai’s fashion,” we echo.

The banter continues, light and full of inside jokes. Aleksandr shares a story about a disastrous fishing trip where Dmitri ended up catching his own shirt instead of a fish.

Dmitri defends himself. “That fish was cunning, okay? It was a battle of wits.”

“A battle of wits with a fish. Sure, Dmitri. We believe you,” I tease.

Nikolai adds with a laugh, “A fish outsmarting Dmitri. Now, that’s something I wish I’d seen.”

The conversation turns to me. “And what about Emma? Any secret talents we should know about?” Aleksandr asks, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

I ponder for a moment. “Well, I can make a pretty mean chocolate cake. That counts, right?”

Dmitri nods seriously. “Absolutely. Your baking could probably bring world peace.”

Nikolai chimes in. “Or at least peace among the Bratva.”

We all laugh again, the sound mingling with the music and the waves.

As the evening wears on, the stars above us shine brighter, and the atmosphere around our table grows more intimate. We’re all relaxed, the laughter and teasing still flowing freely.

Aleksandr leans in close to me. “You know, this night could get even better,” he says, a hint of suggestion in his voice.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how’s that?”

He whispers something in my ear, and I can feel a blush rise to my cheeks. Dmitri and Nikolai are watching us, their expressions a mix of amusement and anticipation.

---