Dirty Flowers – The Lion and the Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Kenya Wright Advertisement1

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Smiling, Olga gazed at me. “Would you like some lavender tea or do you want the special herbs from Baba’s jar?”

I considered the pain throbbing in my ass. “Mix it all together for me, please.”

She nodded and rushed away.

“Thanks, Olga.” Sighing, I leaned back in the chair and sank into the now familiar sensation of Emilio feeding from me.

What would I do without Olga?

I hired her days after birthing my son. I was supposed to pick someone before he came, but I was too nervous about having just anybody around him.

Thankfully, Boris’s mother, Fatuma arrived with her friend Olga to help me out.

Of course Emilio would have one of the most unique nannies in the world.

Olga was from a Russian and African background, and around 5’9 tall with brown skin and thick gray braids that fell to her waist. In good shape, she had seriously toned arms that made me jealous and ready to get back in the gym. Every morning, she ran two miles rain, snow, or sun. After lunch, I could find her in the garden doing her hundred daily push-ups.

She said that she wanted to make it to one hundred years old. Therefore, she maintained a strict vegan diet, no smoking, and the only time she had alcohol was when she hung with Baba in the mansion’s interior garden on Sundays. That was when they played cards by one of the garden’s statues and gossiped about the staff.

She not only had experience in child care, she was also proficient in combat skills.

The hard knock life on the streets of Kapotnya had left a deep impression on her. During her 20s, she’d led her own gang in the district.

Once she became pregnant, she somewhat gave up her street days and spent her 30s and 40s, raising four kids. Granted, she explained to me that she still kicked somebody’s ass every now and then, when they tried her.

Now in her late 50s, Olga could knock out two guys coming after in less than three minutes with no weapon but her hands and assemble a gun together in two minutes.

Kaz and I had tested her on both.

Next, Fatuma helped me test her on true nanny duties—preparing the bottles, properly changing diapers, bathing, and all types of other stuff that I had no idea how to do.

In fact, during Emilio’s first month of living, Olga spent countless evenings showing Kazimir and I how to properly take care of our son.

A few times, Max would peek in and laugh at Kaz.

Then, Olga would force him to join us which always caused an idiot diaper changing contest between Kaz and Max.

Now six weeks had passed and Olga remained calm and composed as she took care of Emilio and me. Although she was new, she felt like a part of us. She definitely brought light to our days.

She had an adjoining room to his nursery and loved to sing to Emilio early in the morning.

Currently, I wasn’t ready to be too far from Emilio yet.

When I was, I knew Olga would be able to take care of Emilio with ease, as well as provide a sense of security and protection.

I gazed down at Emilio.

His eyes remained closed as he fell into rhythmic suckling.

The first few days of breastfeeding caused lots of discomfort. By now the discomfort had faded and my nipples were accustomed to him. Plus, there was this great sense of peace.

I let out a long breath and gazed at the room.

We are a long way from Harlem.

Kaz found us a mega mansion in Rublevka. The world called this place Moscow’s “Beverly Hills.” It was an exclusive and luxurious neighborhood situated to the west of the city center, and had long been a symbol of opulence, power, and prestige. It was a place of lavish mansions and meticulously manicured lawns. Many of the estates cost hundreds of millions of dollars.

Long ago, this area had been a favorite retreat for Russian nobility. Then in the Soviet era, the neighborhood became a preferred residential area for high-ranking officials and prominent members of the Communist Party.

Since the fall of the Soviet Union, Rublevka continued to maintain its status as the epitome of Moscow’s high society.

Now numerous Russian celebrities, politicians, and business tycoons made this neighborhood their home.

And my son will grow up here. Wow.

I drank in the beauty of Emilio’s nursery.

Fine art covered the walls, displaying smiling lions and playful mice, hanging on rising colorful balloons or romping around in a majestic garden.

Misha had gifted us with a custom-made crib with intricate woodwork, plush mattress, and a monitoring system in the bars, giving us the ability to see Emilio sleep at any angle.

Valentina bought me the comfortable nursing chair that I currently sat in. It had a button on the side to provide various massage settings.

I considered pressing one to ease the pain in my ass.


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