Page 44 of Nanny for the Don

In the hallway, Sal and Ms. M rush toward me, both of them looking like they’d seen a ghost. Sal’s the first to speak. “I was on the phone, boss. I didn’t see her.”

Ms. M. is more frantic, her usual calm shattered. “I tried to stop her, Mr. Conti. I swear, I tried!”

I hold up a hand to silence them, my mind racing. The damage is done, and I don’t need excuses right now. Willow’s seen the truth—the part of me I’ve kept hidden from her, from the girls.And now? Now I have to figure out what the hell I’m going to do about it.

“Where is she?” I ask, my voice tight, trying to keep it together. Because if I don’t find her, if she’s out there running with that look of horror in her eyes, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to make this right.

I’m halfway to the stairs when I realize I’m still holding the damn bone saw. I hand it to Sal, who takes it without a word.

“Stay with Jack,” I tell him, my voice clipped and controlled.

Sal nods, all business. “I’m on it.”

I turn to Ms. M, walking beside her as we head upstairs. There’s a tightness in my chest, but I push it down, focusing on the here and now. “Why was she downstairs? What’s so important that she broke the rule and came down while I was working?”

Her face is pale, her voice trembling slightly as she answers. “Lucia fell at the park and hit her head.”

Everything else fades in an instant. My heart lurches. “Where is she?” I demand, every other concern shoved to the back of my mind.

“Upstairs,” Ms. M says quickly. “Willow wanted to tell you before we took her to the clinic to be looked at.”

She’s still talking, explaining, but all I can think about is Lucia. My little girl, hurt and needing me. Nothing else matters right now.

“I told them to wait in the den,” Ms. M says, her voice steadying when she realizes my focus has shifted.

I don’t wait for more. I rush forward, all thoughts of Willow, of the mess downstairs, gone. All that matters is getting to my little girls, making sure Lucia is okay.

I stop short, realizing there’s still blood on my hands. The sight of it makes my stomach turn, a reminder of how close my worlds are to colliding. I head to the sink, scrubbing the blood away, watching it swirl down the drain.It’s not just the blood of the man downstairs—it’s the blood of the life I’ve tried to keep separate from my girls.

This was bound to happen. Deep down, I always knew it was inevitable. But now that it’s here, all I can do is hope my girls never learn the truth about who I am—what I do. They deserve better than that.

I take a deep breath, composing myself before heading into the den. As soon as I step inside, a wave of relief washes over me. Willow is there. I should’ve known she wouldn’t abandon the girls, no matter what she saw.

She’s kneeling by Lucia, gently tending to the wound on her forehead. My heart clenches at the sight of my daughter, but she looks better than I feared. The fact that she’s up and moving is a good sign.

As soon as the girls spot me, they light up, rushing over and throwing their arms around me. I drop to a knee and hug them tight, feeling Lucia’s little arms around my neck, and for a moment, everything else fades away. At least she’s okay, and that’s all that matters right now.

I gently tell Lucia to step back so I can get a good look at the wound. It’s a nasty gash, but I keep my voice calm as I say.

“It’s not as bad as it looks. Head wounds bleed a lot, even when they’re not too serious.” I notice Willow tense, like she’s suddenly realizing how I might know so much about injuries like this.

Ms. M enters the room. “I wanted to take them to the clinic right away,” she says, glancing at Willow.

Willow nods, still looking a little shaken. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what was going on,” she adds, her voice quiet but firm.

I nod, appreciating both of their instincts. “I trust both of you,” I say, making it clear I wouldn’t have been upset if Ms. M had just taken them. “But thank you, Willow, for wanting to keep me in the loop.”

I shift my attention back to Lucia, her little hand still gripping mine. “We’re going to the clinic now,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. I stand up, ready to move, then turn to Willow. “I want you to come with us.”

She nods, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of emotions—relief, fear, and something else I can’t quite place. But now’s not the time to dwell on it.

Right now, I need to make sure my little girl gets the care she needs.

Lucia looks up at me, her eyes a little unfocused, and says, “Daddy, I feel dizzy.”

A spike of worry shoots through me. Her eyes don’t look quite right, and dizziness is a serious red flag—she might have a concussion. I don’t want to scare her, so my voice is calm and gentle. “The doctor at the clinic will fix you right up,” I say,already thinking about the quickest way to get her to the clinic.

I turn to Ms. M, who’s hovering nearby, concern etched on her face. “Get the car ready.”

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