Page 22 of The Bratva Bosses' Nanny

I feel the ghost of that cold fear as I remember the weight of Alina’s trusting gaze on me. “I couldn’t, I just couldn’t do it, Zoe. I told them no. Told them to take me instead.”

Her hand tightens around mine, her nails pressing into my skin. “Emma, that’s... that’s brave. That’s insane.”

A half-hearted chuckle escapes me. “Maybe it was both. But in that moment, all I could think about was her. I couldn’t let her think she was alone, not again.”

She stays silent for a minute. Then I continue, “And the worst part? It was all a setup. A test, to see if I could be trusted.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it’s hollow, no real humor in it.

“That’s messed up. That’s not a test, that’s torture. And here I was, thinking my job at the theater was drama-filled.”

I shrug, a bitter acknowledgment.

She continues, “That’s like some kind of mafia movie stuff.”

“Yeah. I suspect they might be,” I confess, dropping my voice even though the buzz of the cafe would swallow up my words anyway. “You know, like the Bratva or something.”

“Bratva? As in Russian mafia Bratva?”

I nod, feeling the gravity of the situation settle in my stomach like a stone. “I don’t know. I—”

“Girl, you better spill every detail. This is too crazy to be real.” She leans forward.

I can’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. “Tell me about it. And then, there was the kiss.”

“The kiss?” Zoe perks up.

“Yeah, after everything settled down, and we knew it was all a setup, Dmitri and I, we had this moment, and we just...” I trail off, the memory of the kiss sending a warm shiver down my spine.

“No way! Do you have that thing? Oh, what’s it called? Stockholm Syndrome or something?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, shut it, Zoe. They didn’t kidnap me, they only acted like they did.”

“But still, Emma, they sound dangerous,” Zoe’s voice lowers, but she can’t help adding, “and this is the most action you’ve gotten since that day in class with Mrs. Singleton.”

I can’t help the giggle that bubbles up from my throat, the tension easing off as the memory surfaces. “Do you remember? We were in Developmental Psychology, and Mrs. Singleton was droning on about attachment theories. You were passing me that note—”

Zoe snorts, her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the laughter. “The one where I drew that ridiculous diagram suggesting Mrs. Singleton had an ‘avoidant attachment style’ with her briefcase because she never put it down?”

I nod, grinning widely now. “Exactly! That one, and of course, it had to fall right off the desk just as everything went quiet.”

Zoe’s laughter is uncontrollable now, and I join in, “And she picked it up, read it out loud, and her face,” I pause for effect, “it went from zero to ‘Russian winter’ in two seconds.”

Zoe clutches her sides, shaking her head. “Her face was redder than my hair, and you, you were trying so hard not to laugh, your face was all scrunched up like you were in physical pain.”

I wipe away a tear of laughter from the corner of my eye. “I thought I was going to explode trying to hold it in. And then you, with the most innocent face, asked her if she needed a moment to ‘secure her attachments’.”

We’re both laughing so hard now we can barely breathe. “We were such brats,” Zoe manages to say between gasps for air.

“I can’t believe we’re comparing this to what I went through,” I chuckle slightly.

“So, tell me more about this Dmitri guy,” her smile turns mischievous as she sips her coffee. “And what about the others?”

I sigh, “That’s the problem, Zoe. I think I have a thing for all of them.”

“All of them? Emma, that’s not a thing, that’s a miniseries waiting to happen.”

I smile at her description. “I know, it sounds insane. There’s Aleksandr who’s like this brooding force of nature, Nikolai who’s all charm and mischief, and Dmitri. He’s different. Kind, you know?”

“Girl, it’s like you’re living in a reverse harem fantasy.” Zoe sets her cup down, “But seriously, be careful. These guys are intense, and you’re, well, you’re you.”

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