Page 16 of Nanny for the Don

“What happened?” she finally asks, her voice shaky. “Did I say something wrong?”

I take a few more moments, still gathering my thoughts, before I finally turn to face her. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice firm but laced with regret.

“Sorry?” she repeats, confusion and hurt flashing in her eyes.

“That’s right,” I reply, my tone clipped as I start to pull on my clothes. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, but this... it was wrong. I’m notjust your boss—I’m nearly twice your age. This never should’ve happened.”

She’s stunned, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to process my words. “But I wanted it to happen,” she stammers, clearly not understanding why I’m pulling away.

“Regardless,” I say, buttoning my shirt with finality, “it won’t happen again.” My voice is steady, even as the weight of the decision bears down on me.

I finish dressing, straightening my clothes as if to put everything back in order, as if that could somehow undo what we’ve done. “You’re welcome to spend time in the library,” I tell her, the distance in my voice unmistakable.. “But tomorrow, our professional relationship will resume.”

She’s still sitting there, naked and shocked, unable to comprehend how things turned so quickly. But I can’t afford to let this go any further. I turn and leave the room, shutting the door behind me, sealing off what can never be undone..

I make my way up to my room, each step heavier than the last. I feel like a total asshole—what the hell was I thinking, sleeping with an employee?Hell, she’s practically fresh out of college. The thought alone makes my stomach churn.

I strip off my clothes, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. I head straight for my private stash of whiskey, pouring myself a generous nightcap. The burn of the alcohol as it slides down my throat is a welcome distraction, but it doesn’t do much to dull the guilt gnawing at my insides.

I stare out the window, watching the snow fall, the silence of the night doing nothing to quiet the storm in my mind.

I chastise myself for taking advantage of her. I’m supposed to be the responsible one, the adult who knows better. She’s young, still figuring out life, and I should’ve known better. This can’t happen again. It won’t. But no matter how much I try to convince myself, the images from earlier keep flashing through my mind.

Her body arching beneath me, the way she moaned my name, the feeling of her tightness as I pushed inside her for the first time. The look in her eyes as she came, the way her lips parted in pleasure—each memory more vivid than the last.…

I grip the glass tighter, realizing with a sinking feeling that moving on from what happened tonight is going to be the challenge of a lifetime.. Tonight isIt’s already burned into my mind, and I’m not sure how I’m going to forget it—or if I even want to.

Chapter 8

Willow

What the hell just happened?

I throw on my clothes, each movement sharp and angry, the sting of his rejection still fresh.

I’m totally pissed off, my emotions a mess. I plop down into the chair, snatch up my glass of wine, and take a long, frustrated sip. The events of the last hour keep replaying in my mind, and I can’t make sense of the boiling conflict inside me.

On one hand, I’m proud of myself. I finally took control of my sexuality, made my own damn choice, and did it with a man I genuinely wanted. No more waiting around for the "right time" or the "right guy"—I decided for myself, and it was liberating.

But then there’s Nico’s reaction, and that’s what’s really messing me up. The way he pulled away, the guilt in his eyes, like I was some kid he shouldn’t have touched. I feel confused, hurt, and, if I’m being honest, a little embarrassed. Did I push too hard?

I thought I was taking a step toward something empowering, but now I’m questioning everything. Did he regret it the moment it happened? And if he did, what does that say about me? Was Ijust some stupid, impulsive girl who got in over her head?

I take another sip of wine, the taste bitter on my tongue as the questions swirl around in my head, each one cutting deeper than the last.

I’m bouncing back and forth between feeling like a total badass and like the biggest idiot on the planet. One minute, I’m replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his fingers teased me until I was practically begging for more. The memory of him inside me, slow and deep, making me come over and over, and I can still hear the way he growled my name, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world at that moment.

God, it was so hot—every single second of it.

But then, doubt creeps in. Did I misread the whole situation? Was I completely naive to think I could handle a casual encounter with someone like him—older, more experienced, and clearly way out of my league?

I can’t help but worry that I’ve not only screwed up my job but also thrown my self-respect out the window. I’ve never been one for meaningless flings, and I was so careful about my first time, wanting it to be special. And it was… wasn’t it? I can’t shake the feeling that maybe I rushed into something I wasn’t ready for.

I need to figure out what I really want—what this all means for me—but right now, all I’ve got is a mess of emotions and no clear answers.

I decide there's one thing I can do right now—find out more about my boss. Who the hell is he, really? I hurry over to the bar, topping off my glass. With my wine in hand, I head to my room and grab my laptop, a sense of determination fueling my everystep. .

I type his name into the search bar and hit enter, not entirely sure what I’m expecting to find. But when the results pop up, I nearly spit out my wine. There are tons of articles, all with his name plastered across them, and not in the way I expected.

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