The Bratva’s Nanny (Varkov Bratva #9)

Chapter One – Roman

The rest of the world moved on in a rush, but not mine.

Every day, for five days each week, it remained the same.

I eyed the Phoenix Martial Arts Academy signpost hanging by the exit door as patiently as I could and waited, staying perfectly still as the brakes screeched on the curb. As the seconds ticked by with still no sign of her, my jaw flexed. The need to protect her occupied my thoughts, consuming me.

This was the routine.

I should have been used to it by now: the wait, the angst, almost every day on the same curb at the same hour. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t get used to the cold feeling, wondering would she come out? Or would she not?

It was one of the worries that came with being a father.

A father with violence served daily like a fucking three-course meal and a target on his back twenty-four-seven. This was the life I’d been called to live, and I’d lived it for thirty-nine years already. Even if I tried, I couldn’t change fate.

From a distance, bright sun rays hit the skyscrapers in Manhattan, illuminated the vibrant colors on billboards and taxi cabs, and cast long shadows. The view juggled memories of times in Chicago.

Chicago was a cakewalk, a playground for men like me. But New York? The city was a whole different beast, like trying to tame a lion. The streets were meaner, the competition fiercer, and the stakes higher.

There was something about the city that got under my skin. The energy was like nothing else, like a constant buzz in the air. And the people? They were a whole different breed. In Chicago, they had heart, but New Yorkers had attitude. And I loved it.

I made my move, settled in, got ready to take on the Big Apple, and swore on the life of my most precious that I was going to do everything I possibly could until I’d conquered every inch. But conquering the inches of the city had to wait. Seeing her walk through that door was more important.

More seconds ticked by, and I felt the pressure weigh on me without remorse.

Would she come out? Or would she not?

My jaw tightened.

Then, the door moved and finally opened. At the sight of her, the tension rolled off my shoulders, like caged birds finally gaining freedom, and I welcomed the sudden calm. Not even the sun’s brightness could compare to the glow of her smile when she stepped out, her fingers interlaced with Irina’s.

Blonde hair bounced on her shoulders, and baby blue eyes sparkled as she walked toward the car with a happy skip and a bounce in her step. Behind them, Kian and Evgeni, two of my men, strode solemnly, standing guard and keeping a close watch on everything that moved.

In the driver’s seat, the driver cleared his throat and glanced outside the window on the passenger’s side. “I’ll never understand why you enjoy this level of torture.”

From the backseat, I glared at the rearview mirror and stared at the side of his slicked-back blond hair. Feeling the heat of my gaze, he peeled his eyes off a happy Polly chatting with her nanny and met my eyes.

Unmasked concern swam in his green irises, and I raised a brow. “What torture?”

“This,” he said, his voice quiet. A curt nod toward the chatty duo and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders told me all I needed to know. “Sending her to a martial arts school. She’s only six. Is she not too young?”

I rolled my eyes.

There was only one reason I even considered continuing the conversation: Lev Novikov had served me for fifteen years, grown up with me, and instead of just being one of my most loyal men, he’d practically become a part of the brotherhood. He stuck close, was completely reliable, and sure as hell had a big mouth, not holding back his opinions.

“Too young? ” Fuck, no. I dragged my eyes away from his and refocused on Polly through my window. “Another six-year-old might be too young. But not my Polly. She’s no ordinary kid, Lev. You know that better than anyone else; being born into this—the Bratva—is both a blessing and a curse. She gets power and more fucking influence than some people can only dream of having. But alongside that comes the enemies lurking behind the shadows. She needs this: the training, the extra push, the exposure.”

“Yeah,” was all he said with a dull tap on the wheel. “But in the end, Polly’s still a kid. Her life doesn’t have to be as batshit crazy as yours.”

The corner of my lips went up.

“Doesn’t have to be, but it already is. From the second she was born, this path was created for her. Danger is destined for her, and her life will only become worse if I turn a blind eye to that. I can’t limit her to a life of cereal, crayons, and the rest of that petty shit. She needs to know how to use a fucking gun, to protect herself, and now is the best time to do it. She needs to be strong.”

Lev shifted on his seat, and the heat of his stare brushed the side of my face. But I didn’t look at him.

“Say you’re being reasonable about all of this,” Lev started. “I have a question: You can afford to get her a dozen private instructors. The enemies-lurking-behind-the-shadows part should be enough motivation to do that. So, why don’t you?”

From the periphery, I saw her making a demonstration to Irina with her arms spread and a huge smile on her face. She looked like a big bird, flapping her wings and giggling like nothing else could be funnier.

Again, the corner of my lips crooked to the side.

Her joy was all it took to light up my world. Her happiness was my happiness. The mere thought of harm coming to her, touching her in even the slightest way, knocked all the air out of my lungs.

“You said it, she’s just a kid. Being born into this chaos doesn’t mean she shouldn’t live her life to the fullest.” I ignored the smug look of satisfaction on his face. “Polly’s bubbly, and outgoing, and social. She enjoys this, being out in the open, meeting new people, and making friends. Keeping her locked in could hurt her and damage the bright side of her.”

A lump formed in my throat, my brows furrowed, and I gritted my teeth. “I’d be damned before I ever do that to her.”

Lev didn’t say another word, and I shifted my head toward the window. Polina was pointing toward my rolled-up window with an even bigger grin on her lips. She looked up at Irina, said something I didn’t make out fast enough before she handed the older woman her knapsack, and took off running to the car with her makeshift bird wings spread out, the wind in her hair, ruffling her small gown.

I took the hint.

Lev unlocked the doors, and I stepped out, a small smile in place as I crouched to her level. It didn’t take a minute before her small body came crashing into mine. She was all giggles and hugs while I brushed the bouncy golden locks off her face.

“Daddy!” she squealed and nuzzled her face between my neck. “I missed you.”

Around us, more of my men, including Lev, stepped out from the convoy cars and formed a barricade.

I hooked an arm behind her knees, lifted her from the ground, and raised her chin up to assess her. “I missed you too, baby.” I tilted her face to the left and right with narrowed eyes. “How did your day go?”

“Good. It went well.” She faked a grunt, made a dramatic eye roll, and unhooked her chin from my fingers. “Daddy, you’re doing it again.”

A brow went up. “Doing what again?”

“Drawing unnecessary attention.” She spread an arm out, motioning around us to buttress her point. To be fair, the entrance was fairly empty. “Checking to see if I’m fine. Well, I’m fine. I didn’t get punched on the nose or brushed on the cheek—even if that wouldn’t be unusual in martial arts....”

Behind me, I heard Lev snort.

“...but I’m fine.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “You don’t have to worry all the time, okay?”

“I don’t worry all the time.”

She scoffed and did the dramatic eye thing again. “Daddy, please.... You worry all the time. But you don’t have to. I literally have so much fun. Our practice methods are one hundred percent safe, I promise. If they weren’t, you would have found out on the first day. Evgeni would have been the first to suggest a withdrawal from the Academy. Besides, Maria won’t let anything bad happen to me....”

Again, with the famous Maria.

While Polina recounted every noteworthy highlight of her day, I reflected on how many times she mentioned the name Maria in one sitting. Polly always talked about her—about this woman I’d never had a chance to meet. It was either Maria this or Maria that—never anything negative where she was concerned.

It made me curious. And I fucking hated being curious about anything.

“…she taught me the difference between agility and strength when taking a stance. And then, you wouldn’t believe it; she knows a lot of traditional Kung Fu, too. I’ve always wanted to ask her how and where she learned those. It's super cool and impressive when she’s all up in her element. I want to be just like Maria, Daddy. Maybe even better....”

I looked over her shoulder and eyed Irina, who immediately caught on to my reservations and flashed a reassuring smile. “Polly’s definitely in the best hands, Boss.”

If she thought that was enough to convince me, she had another thing coming. But I wasn’t going to push further. The most important thing to me was sitting on my arm and twisting the buttons on my shirt as she rolled off a bunch of things her tutor, Maria, had shown her today.

I pressed a finger on her nose, and she quietened down. “How about we wrap this up at home?”

Her blue eyes sparkled in the most amusing way, and she crossed an arm over her chest. “On one condition.”

I suppressed a grin. The more days passed, the more I recognized the similarities between my daughter and me. Polly might have been young, but she was smart, sassy, and fierce—just like her Papa.

“Anything you want, baby,” I murmured under my breath and lowered us into the car. “But don’t forget you used up two wishes in the morning.”

Her eyes narrowed, squinting slightly as she pondered over what I’d said. Her nose scrunched up, her lips pursed, and then, her lips formed a tiny “O” shape.

She looked up at me. “I used up two already?”

I nodded and shut the door. “Correct.”

“For what?”

Did she truly not remember her demands?

I raised a brow. “Extra Oreos and a Lightsaber?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Her face screwed up in intense concentration, her tiny brows furrowing in deep thought. “Why do I only get three wishes a day, Daddy?”

“It’ll teach you how to prioritize and make only smart decisions. Besides, genies only grant three wishes.”

She mimicked the look I had on my face with a raised brow. “But you’re not a genie.”

“No, but I could be.” I smirked and pressed a finger down on her nose again. “Time’s running out, baby. What’s your last wish going to be?”

“Not fair.” She pouted and huffed, her arms crossed over her chest. “I want so many things.”

“Prioritize, Polly.”

“Fine.”

Just when I thought she was mad, she turned to me with one of her mischievous smiles. “My last wish for the day is this: You’ll say yes to everything I want for the rest of the day.”

This time, I didn’t bother suppressing the grin. She knew she’d gotten me right where she wanted me.

“Smart,” I commended her. And I had to give it to her, that was impressive. Like a low punch I didn’t see coming. I patted her hair down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Consider it a yes, then.”

She threw a fist in the air and squealed loudly, “Whoopee!”

It even got Lev laughing and making jokes with her about a hundred things she could wish for in an hour.

I sat back and watched them both.

The smile I’d brought to her face was the greatest reward I could’ve ever asked for.