Page 33 of Devil Seeks Nanny

“Is that why you agreed to it?” I ask, leaning back on the couch with my right ankle resting on my left knee. My left arm rests on the armrest of the couch, my gaze fixed on Alexei. “Because you were curious?”

Alexei’s grin widens. I have half a mind to cut it off, but I quell the urge. “Can you blame me?”

I give him a cold smile, eyes flat. Despite themselves, I see a few of Alexei’s men that stand behind him shift slightly in unease. Pathetic. My men know better than to show an enemy their discomfort. “You operated on my territory, Alexei,” I say smoothly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to instigate a war.”

He doesn’t at all look perturbed, blowing a cloud of smoke out. “I had business to take care of, Bruno,” Alexei says. “You know how it is. The man lived in your city, but he owed me money, now, didn’t he? Nobody stiffs me and lives to tell the tale.”

My jaw clenches, though I don’t let my anger show. “The man was too busy having a heart attack to pay you back on time,” I say. “And you burned him alive.” Arching an eyebrow, I add, “Now you’re never getting your money back. So, what was the point?”

“The point, Bruno,” Alexei says through gritted teeth, his irritation showing as he leans forward. There’s a table that separates us, and although I don’t feel Leo tense, I know he’s on high alert as Alexei looks at me with icy blue eyes. “Is that it sends a message to anyone else who’s borrowed from me.” He gives a cruel smirk. “Pay me back, or else a painful death awaits.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. How fucking dramatic.

“Be that as it may,” I say, taking in a bored inhale as I fix the cuff of my sleeve and look back at Alexei. “Your men operated in my territory, and you know I don’t take kindly to that. Russian operations will not be tolerated. You even burned down my favorite bakery.” I tilt my head, my gaze as cool as my voice. “Tell me, Alexei, where am I supposed to get my morning muffins now?”

Alexei rolls his eyes, waving his hand dismissively. It causes the smoke from the cigarette to fly around. “I’ll build you a new fucking bakery, how about that?” He grins widely. “Or, better yet, how about you give me everything on the south side of the city, and I’ll never step foot in the rest of your precious territory again.”

I raise my eyebrows at his words, while Leo’s blank mask slips and he stares at Alexei like he’s grown a second head. I don’t blame him—I, myself, think Alexei’s hit his head. “You’re trying to negotiate something to your advantage when you’re the one in the wrong here?” I ask with a scoff of a laugh. “This entire city is mine, period. You’d be lucky if I gave you a fucking outhouse on the side of the road.”

The insult lands, and I see Alexei’s gaze darken at the disrespect my words give him. Still, to Alexei’s credit, he doesn’t let his anger speak for him. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow and muses, “Are you sure? I’d say it’s a good deal. You’d never have to see another Russian in your territory again.”

What the fuck is this all about? Alexei, as stupid as he was for what he did, is generally a smart man. So, why is he asking me for something he knows I won’t give him? I’ve worked hard for the control I’ve gotten over this city. I’m not about to hand over a chunk of it to anyone, much less the Russians.

Something is off, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out what.

*****

DIANA

“Come on. Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I mutter under my breath, foot tapping impatiently on the ground as the phone rings. But then the voicemail comes through, and I let out a frustrated groan. “Where the hell are you, Bruno?” I ask, this being my third call that’s going unanswered.

I’d gone upstairs to wake the kids up, and while Monica had gotten up with no problem, Matteo had refused. He was mumbling and slightly incoherent, and when I touched his forehead, he was burning up. I’ve been around enough kids to know he’s spiking a fever, and I need to take him to the doctor to get him checked out. But, as per Bruno’s new rules, I can’t leave the house without informing him, which I’ve been trying to do, except my calls are going unanswered. I quickly leave a voicemail before hanging up.

I chew my lower lip, my worry for Matteo spiking just like his fever. While the priority for me is to get Bruno to answer my call so I can tell him about Matteo, I also feel the need to apologize to him. He and I haven’t spoken in days ever since he told me about the true reason for my dad’s death. He’s been working late and going out early, and I’ve been busy with the kids—and my grief. I had snapped at Bruno, and as much as his words had hurt, I also realized, in the days where I was left replaying the conversation over and over again, that I may have asked too much of him.

I know Bruno has killed people—I’d be naïve to think otherwise. But I also know he never does anything without a reason. And who the hell am I to ask him to put more blood on his hands, on behalf of me, no less? He never discusses his business with me, and for good reason, I’m sure. He’d said the Russians were the ones who killed dad, and I can’t even begin to think of what that could mean for Bruno and his men in terms of mob wars. Everyone knows San Francisco belongs to Bruno Cataldi, including Russians, and yet they overstepped.

The reality is, I have no idea how Bruno’s world works, and frankly, I don’t want to. I’m perfectly happy and comfortable where I am, in this side of his life, which he fills with love and care because this is where his kids are. I don’t need to know what goes on in the dark, and I know Bruno not telling me anything is both because it’s none of my business and because he’s protecting me from it all, too. I’m grateful for it. I want to let him know that.

But right now, he isn’t answering my calls, and his son is really sick.

Rushing down the stairs, I head into the kitchen where Bruno’s consigliere, Raf, is. “Hey,” I greet, catching the older man’s attention. He doesn’t make me nervous, per se, but he’s intimidating in his own right. “Matteo’s really sick—he’s spiking a fever and won’t get out of bed. I need to take him to the hospital. Bruno’s not answering his phone, and I can’t leave without, uh, protection.”

Raf clenches his jaw, rubbing at it. “The boss is in a meeting right now,” he says, his voice low and gruff as he pulls out his phone. He uses it for a moment as I stand by impatiently yet quietly. Raf looks at me. “Bastian will take you and Matteo. Monica will stay here with me. There is already a unit of men waiting outside for you.”

I nod quickly. “Thanks,” I say before hurrying out. There’s no time to waste. I grab my purse from my room before running upstairs, and I walk into Matteo’s room and gently take off his covers. “Alright, honey, come on—I gotta take you to the doctor,” I whisper quietly.

He lets out a tired groan and holds his arms up, and I easily lift him up. Matteo hugs me, koala style with his arms around my neck, legs around my waist, and his cheek resting against my shoulder as I carry him downstairs. Outside, as Raf said, Bastian and a group of guys are waiting. Bastian holds open the back door of the SUV for me and once I’m settled in with Matteo, we’re off, with the armed dudes following behind us in a car.

“Where’s daddy?” Matteo mumbles quietly.

“He’s at work,” I tell him gently, rubbing his back soothingly. I can feel the heat of his fever on my shoulder. “But I’ll call him, and he’ll come to see you as soon as he can, okay?”

I feel Matteo nod before he whispers, “Thanks, Mom.”

I freeze at his words, my throat instantly locking. I tell myself the kid is delirious with his fever because sick kids always want their moms. It makes sense for him to mistakenly call me that since I’m his nanny and with him and his sister all of the time. Still, my heart tugs in my chest as I continue rubbing circles on Matteo’s back, trying to keep him as comfortable as I can.

Soon enough, Bastian is parking in front of the hospital, and I carefully get out of the car with Matteo still clinging to me. The men Raf assigned to us hover around and close by as we make our way to the entrance. We must be about fifteen feet away when the unmistakable sound of a gunshot cracking through the air sends everyone screaming.

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