Page 82 of The Bratva's Nanny
He clenched his fist on the armrest and leaned back like a man resigned to his fate.
“My heart aches as I think about it. She was too innocent, too pure, to be caught up in our world. She was the reason I never retaliated against your father. Or you. By the time I came to my senses, it was too late. Lorelai was gone, taken from me by fate, leaving behind my beautiful granddaughter, Polina.”
Roman’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t interrupt the old man.
“I’m left with the memories of my mistakes, the what-ifs and the if-onlys. I’m left to pick up the pieces of my ruined past, to try and make amends with the only family I have left: Polina.”
“Nice try,” Roman snapped. He waved the gun in the air but didn’t aim. “Try something else. I’m not giving my daughter up for some sob shit, you hear me?”
“I’m not asking you to give her up, Roman. My deepest desire is to make things right.” Benjamin was almost begging now. “You have to listen. Everything I’ve said is nothing but the truth. I’ve lived a life filled with pain and loss. My sons, my precious boys, were taken from me by the vicious hands of the Morales cartel. They sought to destroy me, just like your father did. And they succeeded, leaving me with only my daughter, Lorelai. But even she was taken from me. I have no one….”
Hearing that, my heart moved for the old man.
Funny how we suddenly shared one thing in common: a sense of loss and loneliness.
“My siblings, my brothers and sisters, all gone. Killed by the same ruthless enemies who sought to destroy our family. I am all that’s left, the last remnant of a once-strong clan. And now, I have only Polina, my granddaughter, who carries my blood.
“Roman, you might not understand, and I don’t expect you to. I don’t even plead for your sympathy. But the weight of responsibility is crushing me. I must protect her, shield her from this brutal world that has taken everything from me. The mafia, with its endless violence and bloodshed, has destroyed my family. I cannot let it take Polina, too.
“I am haunted by the memories of my loved ones, their faces etched in my mind, their laughter and smiles echoing in my ears. I am driven by the need to keep her safe, to give her the life they never had. A life free from all this pain and fear. I owe it to her.”
As I listened to Benjamin's words, I felt a lump form in my throat. He spoke with such conviction, such regret, that I couldn't help but believe him. My eyes welled up with tears, and I fought to keep them at bay.
But my emotions were short-lived when I noticed Finn suddenly break free from the ropes tied to his hands.
My heart raced as he quickly grabbed a gun from the floor—one that must have belonged to one of Benjamin’s security guards lying lifeless on the floor, I realized—and pointed it directly at Roman.
Something flashed before my eyes, but it wasn’t my life. It was ours. The one we’d shared in a few months. The nights we’d cuddled, the silent jokes we’d traded, the heated conversations we’d had.
Hate burned in Finn’s eyes—hate for Roman, hate for being humiliated. And he was determined to make those fond recollections the only memories I’d ever have of him.
Fucking never!
My scream was instinctual, a warning to Roman to get out of the way.
“Roman!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, momentarily forgetting that I was to stay hidden.
Roman’s reaction was swift, like he’d sensed it coming. He dodged the bullet by mere inches. My heart galloped, and my mind reeled with fear.
But Roman didn't hesitate. He quickly overpowered Finn and slammed him against the wall.
Silver glinted in the air, and I realized Lev had thrown him a knife.
My breath hitched.
I knew what it meant.
He was going to hurt him.
He was going to hurt Finn at the exact same spot where Finn had hurt me.
He pressed the knife to Finn’s neck and growled under his breath, “Look away, Maria.”
I wasn’t sure I could stomach being an eyewitness of another man’s death, so I looked away. And his promise came back to me, loud and clear, despite the sound of a blade swishing against flesh, the choked gurgle, and a heavy slump of a now lifeless body on the floor.
Five words that were not ordinary threats but a vow.
I will slit his throat.