Nanny and the BRATVA BOSS

by Daiko, SC

  “Taras Melekhov took over from Gleb Sokolov, Catrin’s brother-in-law…”

  My mouth fell open. “Did he? What a coincidence!” And it was. I had no clue about the connection. Catrin and Mum had been besties since high school. Likewise, Livvy was best friends with Cat’s daughter, Becca. But it was my sister who visited them in Colorado, not me. And she hadn’t told me any gossip. I wondered if she’d put two and two together when I revealed who I was working for. Nah, she’d have mentioned…

  Silence from Mum, and then she said, “Your daddies are out at the moment, but I’m going to have to tell them.” A pause. “Why did you lie to us?”

  “I didn’t lie,” I flipped a lock of hair out of my eyes. “Just left out some details… I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “You still haven’t explained what made you do it.”

  “The roof repair fund. Taras is paying me hundreds of thousands of dollars.” I caught my lip between my teeth. “I wanted to help.”

  “That’s the trouble with you,” she lilted in her Welsh accent. “You worry too much about other people’s problems when you should be worrying about yourself.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” I tried to reassure her. “I’m only Taras’ nanny. My job is to look after his daughter. And it’s a good thing I’m here. The poor kid needs me.”

  “You’re too warm-hearted, Zoe. I hope this doesn’t end in tears…”

  “What could possibly happen? I spend all day in a mansion surrounded by security. Taras doesn’t let Emma leave the place…”

  “Where are you now?” Mum interrupted my spiel.

  “It’s my day off. I’ve been sightseeing in New York.”

  “On your own?”

  “Yes, Mum,” I groaned.

  “Take care, Zoe. Men like Taras Melekhov have enemies, and they might try and use you to get at him.”

  I laughed, but in a gentle way. “You’ve been watching too much TV.” Even so, my skin prickled, and I stared around. Only a few joggers. Phew! “I’d better get a move on. I’m starving and want to grab a bite to eat before I catch my train.”

  “You’ve always been far too independent,” she muttered. “Be careful.”

  “I will,” I promised. “Give everyone my love.”

  We signed off and I strolled past the Turtle Pond before heading toward a café next to the theater. At the take-out window, I ordered a hot-dog and a Coke then found another bench to sit on.

  As I ate, my thoughts drifted. Last night, standing next to Taras while he’d watched Emma dance, I’d seen a different side to him. Briefly, his barriers had crumbled, and he’d revealed himself to be a father who plainly loved his daughter and was proud of her.

  For the first time since I’d met him, he’d smiled with his eyes as well as his mouth.

  Eyes that had lost their usual gemstone coldness.

  Eyes that had gleamed with the warmth of the summer sun.

  He’d almost blown it when Emma mentioned she wanted to dance professionally in the future. I remembered what she’d said to me about him arranging a marriage for her when she turned eighteen and my heart sank.

  After I’d taken her up to bed, I sat by the window, letting the air cool my heated skin. Being near to Taras had made me flushed with awareness of him.

  I nearly fell off the chair when I heard him playing. Ever since I’d asked to watch him at the start of the week, he’d shut me out. It had hurt, and I’d felt stupid for suggesting it. I was merely Emma’s nanny, he’d made that obvious, and I’d have to accept there could never be anything other than a professional relationship between us.

  Except, there was nothing professional about duetting with my boss. Taras leaving his window open was an overt invitation to join him. I tried to resist, but the evocative melody drew me in. Hallelujah has always been one of my favorite songs and I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from joining in straight away. The third time he played it with such emotion I could resist no longer, and I sang the words with an inexplicable longing to reach out to him.

  Focus on looking after his daughter, that’s your job, I reminded myself as I finished my food. I scrunched up my eyes against the bright sunlight. A jogger was approaching. A man from the size of him, although I couldn’t see clearly. He came to a halt in front of me. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

  “Sure,” I shot him a quick glance. Shades pushed up over dark blond crew-cut hair, square jaw with light stubble, pale blue eyes. “I was about to leave, anyway,” I said cautiously.

  “Don’t go on my account.” He sat and stretched out his long legs.

  I inched away from him, grabbing my bag. What if he wanted to mug me?

  He turned and held out his hand, plainly expecting me to shake it. “Name’s Justin Ward,” he raised an expectant brow.

  “Zoe Addison, pleased to meet you,” I smiled. Was he hitting on me? If so, he had zero chances.

  He clasped my fingers, then flipped the shades down over his eyes.

  A jolt of recognition rushed through me.

  I’d seen this man before, but where?

  Oh. My. God.

  He was the suit on the train last Sunday!

  I leapt to my feet. “Sorry, just remembered there’s somewhere I need to be.”

  “Best sit back down, Zoe,” his voice grated. “If you know what’s good for you.”

  My knees shaking, I did as he asked. “You’ve been following me,” I said, my stomach churning. “Why?”

  He leaned in, a hand on one knee. “You work for Taras Melekhov. We’re interested in everything to do with him.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m only his nanny.”

  “We know that. Know you’re on a six-month visa, which was obtained for you by fraudulent means.”

  “I have no clue about any fraud,” I gasped. “Everything was arranged for me here in the States.” My heart stuttered. Mrs. Konin had gotten my entry permit in record-breaking time. God, what if I was here illegally?

  “Are you with the immigration department?” I asked Justin Ward in a shaky voice.

  He fixed me in his gaze. “I’m a federal agent, Zoe. We’ve had Taras Melekhov under surveillance for months.”

  My breath caught as Mum’s warning rang in my head. I was completely speechless for a couple of seconds before I managed to murmur, “I’ve seen your car parked outside the front of the estate.” The black sedan I’d noticed my first day in Fairwood was there every morning, without fail. I’d gotten so used to it I no longer questioned its presence. But the fact the feds had also had me in their sights made me shake in my shoes.

  “Did you know your boss is a notorious arms trafficker?” Justin Ward’s demeanor turned serious. “His business dealings bring death and destruction to thousands, if not millions of people all over the world.”

  My jaw dropped, and I didn’t know what to say. Death and destruction to millions of people? Sudden coldness hit at my core.

  The fed reached for something under his belt.

  God, was he drawing a gun on me?

  My heart practically beat out of my chest.

  Slowly, he handed me a black folder.

  With trembling fingers, I opened it.

  Pictures.

  I stared at the one on top.

  Dead bodies piled in a heap.

  Bile rose in my throat.

  I swallowed it down, shut the file, and shoved it back at him.

  “We’d like you to help us, Zoe.” He put the dossier back under his belt and adjusted his t-shirt over it. “Get close to him, earn his trust, and we can take it from there. Taras Melekhov needs to be stopped before there are more photos like that one.”

  I shook my head. The Bratva Boss doesn’t let anyone get close to him, I felt like saying. But I didn’t. “I don’t think I have what it takes,” I said instead.

  Justin Ward barked out a laugh. His eyes travelled the length of my body, making me cringe. “Use your feminine charms.” He winked, the creep. “I’m
sure you know what I mean.”

  “You want me to become a whore for the American government? What if I refuse to help you?” I pressed my lips flat.

  He leaned back with exaggerated casualness. “You’ll be on the next plane out of here and will never be able to return.”

  The douchebag was blackmailing me, I suddenly realized. And what about Emma? I couldn’t abandon her. I wrapped my arms around my middle and whispered, “Can I think about it?”

  Justin Ward unleashed a vile smirk. “I forgot to mention. We’ll pay you a hundred grand for every piece of information you relay to us.” He jabbed his finger at me. “It’s a win-win situation. For you and for us.”

  “Win-win, yeah,” I snarked. “America pays me to be a whore while I grass on the man who hired me, not to mention tell lies to his child. Not seeing the winning part for me. I need to think about this. I’ll give you my answer next week,” I avoided eye contact with him. “Same time, same place?”

  “I’ll look forward to welcoming you on board, then. You know it makes sense.” He beamed a smarmy smile and pushed himself to his feet. “Don’t speak of this to anyone, though. Remember we’re watching.” His tone had turned harsh. “If you warn your boss, you’ll be arrested, convicted and deported from the country.”

  He thrust his shades back on top of his head, then began jogging away from me down the track.

  I collapsed on the bench, totally shocked. To think I’d only a few minutes ago accused Mum of exaggerating the danger I could be in. Jesus, what a clusterfuck! I chewed the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted the tang of blood. I told you so, I imagined her saying.

  Closing my eyes, I thought about Taras. In the two weeks I’d known him, he’d never once made me feel unsafe.

  Justin Ward, on the other hand, gave me bad vibes.

  I didn’t trust him. Period.

  With dragging steps, I made my way toward the exit of the park. The entire ride back to Fairwood I weighed up my options while longing to get home and spend time with Emma. Although it was my day off, I knew she’d want me to take her up to bed. Just thinking about her brought a lump to my throat.

  Jesus, what was I supposed to do?

  One thing that was clear to me, though; I wasn’t a traitor. Apart from the fact that Taras would probably have me killed if he found out I was a rat, it simply wasn’t my nature to snitch on anyone.

  Not even if they trafficked weapons that brought death and destruction to thousands, if not millions of people all over the world.

  Chapter Nine

  Taras

  The sound of a car motor rose from the driveway. I got up from my desk and went to the window. My limo was rolling to a stop by the front door. Oleg bringing Zoe back from the station. She ran up the steps, her impossibly long legs encased in those tiny little shorts. Hmm, she looked a tad upset. Mary Poppins was normally cool, calm and collected; I wondered what had gotten into her.

  I spent the rest of the evening talking on the phone to clients in the Far East. Except, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zoe. Hell, she was beautiful. Beautiful and caring and goddamn sexy. She seemed to have no idea of the effect she had on me. Last night, I’d put a lid on my desire. Reasoned with myself that I didn’t give a fuck about her.

  Be honest with yourself, Taras. You’re in lust.

  Yep, if she weren’t Emma’s nanny, I’d seduce her. Cup her lovely tits while kissing up and down her swan-like neck, then undress her, pin her beneath me, and fuck her until she came again and again.

  She was like an itch that needed scratching, but one I couldn’t scratch. I should look elsewhere. There were plenty of girls available in my clubs. They would sit on my lap and rub their hot pussies against my crotch, dollar signs in their eyes. Been there, done it, bought the proverbial t-shirt. They simply didn’t attract me anymore.

  With a frustrated groan, I decided to check through my emails. I scrolled down until I came to the usual weekly report from the facility in San Diego I’d entrusted with my ex-wife’s care. I pulled at my collar and read the missive.

  No change.

  Nina was still deeply psychotic, even after all these years.

  Heat rose behind my eyelids. Jesus, if I hadn’t gotten to her in time and stopped her from giving Emma her bedtime cocoa laced with mashed-up sleeping pills, God knows what would have happened.

  My daughter could have died.

  I would have killed her if she’d murdered Emma. No question. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself, afterwards. Not because of what I’d have done to Nina, but for the loss of the only pure thing to have emerged from my train wreck of a marriage.

  Emmochka.

  Shaking my head, I shut down my computer and went to have dinner. I stepped into the dining room, pleased to find Emma waiting for me, standing by my chair ready to say goodnight.

  I stared at the empty space behind her. Mary Poppins hadn’t appeared for the first time since she’d started working for me.

  “Where’s Zoe?” I asked, creasing my brow.

  “She said she was tired. Mrs. Konin will take me up to bed.”

  “Well, it is Zoe’s day off.” I lifted Emma’s chin and planted a swift kiss on her forehead. “Are you getting on with her alright?”

  “I love her, Papa. She’s strict, but she’s also fun. I wish she could be my nanny forever.”

  A smile lit up my daughter’s sweet face and I touched my hand to her shoulder. “We’ll see about that…”

  “Papa, you can’t let her leave like all my other nannies did.” She stamped her foot. “Zoe’s, like, the best nanny in the world.”

  I laughed. “Then we’ll have to keep her, won’t we?”

  My words were said in jest. But when Emma threw her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek, I realized my mistake. How could I break it to her that Zoe would probably move on one day, just like the other nannies?

  She’d never be a permanent fixture in our lives.

  I squeezed Emma’s shoulder again, signaling it was time for her to go up to bed.

  Hmm, I’m not usually so tender with my little mouse.

  Maybe watching her dance last night and remembering today how close I came to losing her had gotten to me.

  Just a one-off.

  Evil coils inside you like a snake.

  Nina’s words rang in my head, an often-repeated refrain. I’d tainted her with my darkness. I wouldn’t allow myself to do the same to Emma.

  * * *

  Later, I left the window open again while playing my cello. It was hot as hades without the AC, so I stripped down to my dress pants and let the night air cool my body.

  Would Zoe duet with me?

  I’d soon find out.

  U2’s With or Without You seemed appropriate, and I started to play. I didn’t get far before a knock rapped at my bedroom door.

  I put down the bow and lifted my cello onto her stand. “Come in!”

  Mary Poppins.

  I motioned her inside, shut the door and closed the space between us.

  “I’m not going to play the cello in front of you, Zoe,” I said, thinking it was what she wanted.

  She took a small step back. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “Oh?” I smirked, liking where this was going even though I knew it wasn’t a good idea.

  Her cheeks reddened, and her gaze fell on my bare chest, taking in the thick scars from the fights when I was a raw recruit in the Moscow Bratva.

  “Something happened today,” she stood straight, but her voice wavered. “I needed to talk to you.”

  “What?” I scowled.

  She licked her lips, and the sight of her pink tongue made my balls grow tight.

  “A man approached me in Central Park. He said he was with the FBI.” She wrapped her arms around herself.

  Instantly, my lust for her took a backseat. I shuffled closer, every nerve in my body on edge. “What the fuck did he want?” I snarled, feeling the sudden urge to punch my fist into th
e wall.

  She flinched at the roughness of my tone but looked me directly in the eye. “He threatened me with deportation if I didn’t become an informer.” Her voice was now firm. “Is my visa fake? Because, if it is, then I’m here illegally.”

  Son of a bitch!

  “Did he give you his name?”

  “Justin Ward.” She shuddered. “I didn’t like him.”

  I rubbed a hand through my hair. “Any ID?”

  “N… no. But he had a file of photos. Dead people.” Her eyes became dark as midnight. “He said they’d been killed by the weapons you trafficked.”

  She turned her face away from me.

  My nostrils flared, and I lifted my hand, hooking my finger around her jaw and turning her back to me.

  We stared at each other. She opened her mouth to say something, but I got in first.

  “Bullshit,” I barked. “He was spinning you a line. There’s no proof those deaths were caused by me.”

  “You mean you’re not an arms trafficker?” her voice rose.

  “I’m a businessman, Zoe. Yes, I sell weapons,” I paused, gathered my thoughts. “Do you know who the biggest arms dealers in the world are?”

  She shook her head and caught her lip between her teeth.

  Tantalizing.

  Everything about this girl was fucking tantalizing, but I needed to focus on the task at hand.

  “The US and Russia, with the United Kingdom not far behind in the league table of weapons exporters. I won’t justify myself to you, Zoe, but you’ve been subjected to a con, I fear.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How do we know Justin Ward is who he said he was?”

  She swallowed audibly. “Who else could he be, Taras?”

  Her saying my name went straight to my dick, but I regained control. “I have enemies. I’m sorry they might have targeted you to get to me. I didn’t see that coming.”

  And I hadn’t. Jesus, fuck, they’d stoop to any means…

  I narrowed my eyes with sudden distrust. “Why have you told me about this?”

  “I’m not a snitch.” Her gaze flickered to mine. “But what am I supposed to do? Justin Ward said he’d be watching me.” She shivered. “Am I in any danger?”