Page 15 of The Bratva Bosses' Nanny

I straighten up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. “We’re managing, aren’t we, Alina?” I say, looking down at the little girl, who’s now watching Dmitri with cautious curiosity.

“Yeah, you’re doing just fine,” Dmitri agrees, pushing off from the doorway and taking a few steps closer. “She hasn’t taken to everyone like that.”

I nod and smile. “Can I talk to you... in private, Dmitri?” I ask with a low voice.

He glances around the empty kitchen and raises an eyebrow. “We are in private.”

I gesture toward Alina, who’s still standing close by, her small hand finding mine. Dmitri nods in understanding and kneels to Alina’s level, speaking to her gently in Russian.

Alina nods, seemingly satisfied with whatever Dmitri has told her, and she scurries off, leaving the room without a backward glance.

I watch her go, feeling a pang of protectiveness. “I hope you didn’t say anything harsh to her.”

Dmitri stands, facing me. “I simply told her to go play in her room. Nothing rude, I promise.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he casually picks up an apple from the counter and takes a bite, still facing me. “So, what did you want to talk about?” he asks, crunching into the fruit.

My gaze falters, dropping to the floor as I feel a warm blush creeping up my cheeks. “I... uh, Alina spilled some juice today and...” I trail off, forcing myself to meet his eyes again. They’re deep green, almost mirroring the shade of his suit jacket. “She covered her head as if... as if she was expecting to be hit. Do you...”

Dmitri’s expression doesn’t change. “Do we what?”

The words stick in my throat, but I push them out anyway. “It looks like she’s been abused. She’s always so jumpy, flinches at sudden movements, and there’s a fear in her eyes that’s just... it’s not normal.” My own eyes are hard now, challenging him to deny it.

He scrutinizes me, his gaze scanning me from head to toe. “Don’t worry, Emma. It’s her... parents. Not us.”

I press on. “What happened to her parents?”

Dmitri’s eyes narrow slightly. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

“I need to know these things so I can make my decisions accordingly. I would ask Grace, but I haven’t seen her all morning.”

At the mention of Grace, the color drains from his face. He pauses mid-chew, his casual demeanor faltering. “She... took a day off,” he says eventually, “What do you know about Grace?”

I feel a ripple of unease at the shift in his tone. “Not much. She interviewed me, showed me around,” I explain. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

Dmitri finishes his apple with one last bite and disposes of the core in a bin nearby. “Grace is... a complicated subject.”

I cross my arms. “I’m not just some girl who wandered in off the street, Dmitri. I’m responsible for Alina now, and if there’s something I should know—”

He holds up a hand, stopping me mid-sentence. “I know, and you’re right to ask. But Grace’s affairs are her own. As long as you’re here, your job is to look after Alina. And you’re doing a good job with that, Emma. Don’t get distracted.”

“But—” I start to protest.

He steps closer, and there’s a firmness in his stance that wasn’t there before. “That’s all you need to focus on. Trust me.”

Before I can press Dmitri for more information, the kitchen door flies open. A man I’ve seen skulking around, probably security, bursts in, his face etched with panic.

“We’ve got trouble,” he says, his eyes darting around the room until they land on Dmitri. “Word is out about Alina’s location. We need to move her—now.”

Dmitri’s reaction is instantaneous, his body coiled like a spring. “Fuck,” he turns to me, “Emma, you’re coming with us. We can’t leave Alina with anyone else.”

I’m startled, “What’s happening? Who’s found out what?”

“No time,” Dmitri cuts me off, taking charge as he moves towards Alina, who’s peeking around the corner, drawn by the commotion. “We need to go, now.”

“But, my things—”

“Forget your things!” he snaps.

---