Page 9 of The Bratva Bosses' Nanny

Slipping out of my clothes, I decide to embrace the comfort this luxurious bed promises. I’ve always slept naked—it feels liberating, natural.

Dmitri, with his gentle words and kind smile, and Nikolai, whose piercing eyes make my heart race—my mind toggles between their distinct personas. They both exude a sense of raw power, veiled behind different facades. I can’t help but think about their strong arms, the veins that mark them as warriors of some sort.

My thoughts drift to Aleksandr—brooding, intimidating Aleksandr. He’s a tower of a man, easily over six-foot-three. He’s hot, in a way that’s as unsettling as it is magnetic. A gravitational pull I know I should resist but find myself questioning if I even want to.

But then, the unthinkable happens.

The door bursts open and Aleksandr strides in, no knock, no warning. Before I can react or gather my clothes, he is already in the room. To my horror, I remember I am completely exposed.

Chapter 4: No Warning

Aleksandr

What the fuck is she doing in my room?My head is pounding, my vision blurry from alcohol. But through the haze, I can still make out a figure—Emma—clutching the sheets to her chest like a shield.

“What are you doing in my room?” I ask.

“This is MY room!” she stammers, eyes wide with a mix of indignation and fear.

I squint, looking around the room. Shit, it’s dark, but even in my drunk state, the differences slowly creep in. Wrong rug. Wrong color on the walls. Hell, even the scent is all wrong—floral, not the smoky blend of my own cologne and leather.

“Why the fuck are you naked?” I manage to spit out. “Aren’t you supposed to be the nanny?”

Emma’s face flushes a deep shade of red as she struggles to cover herself with the sheet. “I-I always sleep this way. I didn’t expect anyone to come in!”

I can feel my anger rising, fueled by the alcohol coursing through my veins.

“That’s not exactly appropriate behavior for a nanny, is it?”

I step closer to her, towering over her petite form. Her eyes widen in fear as she tries to back away, but there’s nowhere for her to go. She’s trapped between me and the bed.

“I don’t appreciate this kind of behavior in my home,” I growl, grabbing her wrist tightly.

Emma flinches, her eyes darting from my grip on her wrist to my face. “I didn’t invite you in. And for the record, this is my room! Nicolas gave it to me.” Emma snaps, pulling her gaze away from my clenched fist.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Is this the only thing he gave you? The room? Or are you here to seduce us?”

“Let me GO!” she yells.

And I let go of her wrist. Her face turns a deeper shade of red, indignation flashing in her eyes.

Emma scrambles, grabbing the first pieces of clothing she finds—a shirt and a pair of jeans—and starts hastily putting them on.

Just as she’s pulling the shirt over her head, the door bursts open again. It’s Dmitri, his eyes darting from Emma’s semi-dressed state to my clenched jaw.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

His voice is calm, but the tension ratchets up another notch, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Emma quickly finishes dressing and steps away from me, putting as much distance between us as possible. Dmitri seems to notice this and takes a step towards her, his hands held out in a non-threatening manner.

“What happened here?” he asks softly, trying to defuse the situation.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “She’s in the wrong room, and she was naked,” I say through gritted teeth.

Dmitri’s eyes widen slightly, but he remains calm. “Is that so? Emma, what’s going on?”

Emma glares at me before turning to Dmitri. “I was given this room by Nicolas himself. I didn’t know it belonged to Aleksandr.”

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