Page 62 of The Bratva's Nanny

He opened his mouth to say something when a tall, dark-haired man suddenly appeared beside us, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Roman with a casual air.

“You made it,” Roman said. His voice was neutral and handshake firm.

I watched with interest, wondering if this was another enemy in the making because, with these men, anything was possible. He could have been Roman’s childhood nemesis, yet they’d strike up conversations like the best of friends.

I listened for more, but to my surprise, they launched into a conversation in rapid-fire Russian, their words lost on me.

I felt uneasy, being excluded from the conversation.

The man mentioned Polina, and Roman responded easily to my amazement.

But my ears perked up, my mind racing, and his eyes flicked to me.

He smiled, his voice dripping with charm. “Finally, Maria…” he said in English, and then more Russian.

My heart skipped a beat, and I swore I normally didn’t eavesdrop on people’s conversations, but I was determined to learn more.

Thankfully, they both saved me the stress because he turned his attention to me now with an extended hand.

“Name’s Eduard. It is a pleasure to finally meet the Maria Simmons.” He wore a good-natured but impish grin. “I have heard a lot about you.”

Roman narrowed his eyes at the man, but it didn’t scorch long enough to cause any damage.

I shook his hand firmly before letting go. “Good things, I hope?”

“Only the best.” He dusted his jacket. “Thank you for saving my niece.”

Ah!

It finally clicked, the reason why staring at this man made me feel like Roman’s doppelganger had ambushed me.

The rich and throaty baritone, with a rumble to it like a manly purr, was exactly the same as Roman’s.

So were his eyes, that same ocean-blue color.

That same brilliance. That same brutality.

Their resemblance was so canny and yet so distinguished and unique.

He stood there in a perfectly cut black Armani suit and beautiful black leather shoes. His shoulders were wide and strong, like his brother’s.

Uncle Ed, also formally known as Eduard Varkov. The brother to the man that made my emotions go haywire. After Polina’s love for brownies, talking about her Uncle Ed came next.

The men got talking again, and I excused myself, slipping away from their conversation for a drink.

The music and laughter in the room seemed to swell, and I made my way to the bar. The bartender, a charming blond with tattoos on his forearm and a smile on his face, asked for my order.

"A glass of whatever’s the best tonight,” I replied, my eyes scanning the shelf behind him.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” a thick voice said from beside me, and I spun. “Whatever’s the best tonight might not be the best for you,” she added with a grin, her doe brown eyes sparkling under the light. Her hair was in a sleek ponytail, and she wore a complimentary black dress that stopped just above her knees.

She looked dazzling and familiar.

“Madelyn?”

She swished her ponytail, beaming. “The one and only.”

I enveloped her in a hug, my surprise and delight evident in my squeal of excitement. "Madelyn! Oh, my God, what are you doing here?”