Page 80 of The Bratva's Nanny
And just like that, the moment was gone.
As if on automatic, my mind snapped back to reality. Benjamin, the vendetta, the danger—it all came flooding back.
I remained silent, my eyes still locked on hers but my thoughts elsewhere.
The sound of my seatbelt unclicking pricked the tension, and I opened the door. “Don’t stay put. Don’t stay inside the car.”
Her brows knitted together in confusion. “What? Isn’t that supposed to be, I don’t know, the other way around?”
I sighed and rubbed between my eyes. “It is. But if I say it straight, you’re just going to go ahead and do the opposite. So, do the opposite with the instruction I gave now. And that is not a fucking joke,” I added, slamming the door shut.
Shoving all of my feelings back inside the big black box they’d escaped from, I looked around.
Open skies. Green grass. Animal stench. Farmhouses erected around the vast grassy slope. I inhaled and exhaled—clean, fresh air in the countryside. But I knew a moment later, the air would be tainted with the smell of fresh blood. Human blood.
My men lined up behind me. Lev fell into step beside me, and Finn walked alongside us, his hands bound behind his back.
I muttered to Lev, “I want it to be quick. In and out. I’m not up for hearing any of his bullshit stories about the torture my father made him go through.”
Lev nodded. “Copy that.”
We approached the house, our weapons at the ready. I nodded to Lev, and he took point, moving stealthily toward the entrance.
On my count, they busted into the house, their guns drawn. The security team was caught off guard but quickly regained their composure. A hail of bullets flew our way, and we returned fire. The sound of gunfire echoed through the halls, the smell of smoke filling my nostrils.
I ducked behind a pillar and yelled out, “No time! We have to move!”
Lev nodded, and we pushed forward, our guns blazing. Finally, we made it inside.
I was surprised when I caught Benjamin seated on one of the sofas in his living room. He was completely unarmed, wearing a sulk and quivering lips.
I signaled Lev, and they had a gun trained on him.
Lev and our other man, Vasili, flanked me, their eyes fixed on Benjamin’s security team. Benjamin sobbed, and I could see the fear in his eyes.
“Not falling for that old man bullshit. You can’t get away that easily after hurting my family like that.” I cocked my gun, aimed at his forehead, and barked in Russian, ordering Finn to kneel down beside the sofa. Lev shoved him, and he fell on his knees. “Your stories end now.”
***
“Wait!” he screeched, his fingers trembling as he slowly edged forward on his seat.
Fucking pathetic.
I had my gun still trained on him, but my finger hesitated on the trigger. His eyes were downcast, his face etched with defeat. He shook his head, his voice cracking when he spoke.
“You can kill me if you want to, Roman. I know I deserve it. But I never intended to hurt Polina. I was doing what I thought was best for her.”
I frowned, ambushed with waves of confusion.
“Best for her? What the fuck does that even mean?”
But his eyes flashed with conviction. Undeterred, his voice gained strength.
His eyes seemed to bore into mine, searching for something, pleading for something. It was a look that spoke of deep sorrow, regret, and longing. “Polina doesn’t deserve to live in this cruel world, Roman. She deserves better, and you know it. She deserves a life free from violence and fear.”
I glanced at Lev, exchanging our doubts with just a look. Benjamin’s words didn’t add up. He was our enemy, my father’s nemesis. But at that moment, he sounded like anything but the monster I had known him to be for all those years.
Hastily, he reached for his pockets and pulled out a photograph. Cautiously, he handed it to me. Lev took it from him, and for the first time in years, his expression conveyed shock.