Page 41 of The Bratva Bosses' Nanny

I get a message. I assume it’s from my tech team, but it’s an unknown number.

Let the snowflake go

An icy prickle runs down my spine. Not an email, a direct message. Traceable? Maybe. But they’d anticipate that. They’re not amateurs. What the hell is a ‘snowflake’?

Could they mean Alina? Emma? It’s too coincidental with this ‘Frostbite’ bastard floating around. Snow, frostbite... there’s a pattern here.

I forward the text to my tech team. Then I send it to Nikolai and Dmitri. I’m staring at the Kandinsky hanging on the wall, but I’m not seeing it—my mind’s racing through every damn scenario.

Nikolai’s response comes first.It’s obvious they want Alina

Dmitri chimes in the group chat.What would they want with an orphaned 3-year-old girl?

I type back.Maybe she has a relative we don’t know about?

Dmitri is quick to reply.No. We’ve checked

I push further.What about the mom’s side?

Dmitri’s answer is immediate and unsettling.No info on mom’s side. Sergey was no saint. Could be anyone

But Alina has a mom, a mom we know nothing about.

I respondI’ll have the tech team dig deeper. We need to make sure Emma doesn’t leave. For her safety

I set my phone down, the weight of command heavy on my shoulders. My team will handle it. Henry, my right hand and driver, will track the source.

Information should be in my hands by noon. Until then, I have a commitment—a swimming lesson with Emma. It’s a welcome distraction, a moment of normalcy in the chaos. It’s also a promise, and I keep my promises.

I stride back into my room. It’s still too early. My swimming shorts are exactly where I left them, laid out on the bed for today’s pool session. On the other side of the bed, an array of swim suits sprawl across the duvet — an assortment Henry brought over for Emma, ranging from small to large.

My eyes scan the sizes, and a mischievous idea takes hold. I reach for the small one, the fabric soft and defiantly pink in my hands. It’s sure to be a tight fit, but that’s the point. Just a little harmless fun to spice up the morning.

I leave the other sizes scattered on the bed. With the chosen suit in hand, I allow myself a satisfied smirk before heading for her room. This should make for an interesting start to the day.

I knock on Emma’s door, situated conveniently right next to mine. It’s early, too early for her to be awake by normal standards.

“Come in,” comes her sleepy response, soft and slightly muffled.

Pushing the door open, I step into her space. Her room’s changed since the last time I was here. It’s got her touch now, unmistakably Emma.

“You redecorated, huh?” I note, looking around at the subtle changes.

She gives me a look, part mischief, part challenge. “I thought I was allowed to. So that you don’t mistake my room for yours again.”

“Fair enough,” I concede, appreciating the spirit she’s showing. “Looks good.”

“Thanks. What time is it?” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes.

“Time for that swimming lesson.” I enjoy the disoriented confusion that crosses her face.

She groans a mock protest as she props herself up. “I was having the best dream.”

I hold up the small swimsuit, dangling it from my finger. “This should wake you up.”

Her eyes widen as she takes in the size of the suit. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I shrug, feigning innocence. “Henry picked it out.”

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