Page 46 of Nanny for the Don

Sal nods, holding a handkerchief to his face, and I turn on my heel, my mind shifting back to the girls and Willow.

This day is far from over, and it’s about to get a hell of a lot worse if we don’t get this situation under control.

Chapter 23

Willow

Nico showed up just a little after us., looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He barely said a word, except to his little girls, making sure they were okay. It was sweet, but also kind of eerie—like there was this whole other side of him he was keeping under wraps. I guess after what I saw in the basement, I shouldn’t be surprised.

The doctor put butterfly stitches over the small cut and reassured us that Lucia didn’t have a concussion. We all breathed a sigh of relief.

Now, we’re in Ms. M’s car, heading back to Nico’s place. The snow’s coming down hard, making the roads slick. Nico’s in his car, driving with the girls, and my thoughts are all over the place.

I don’t even know what I want to do. Part of me wants to get as far away from this whole situation as possible—just pack up and leave. But then there’s the other part, the part that’s still stuck on how Nico was with his girls, how he was with me before everything went sideways. It’s confusing as hell, and I’m not sure which way I’m leaning.

Also, I’m carrying the man’s child. That adds a whole other level to this convoluted mess I’ve found myself in.

The car’s quiet, except for the soft hum of the heater and the sound of snow hitting the windows. I can’t shake the feeling that something big is coming, and I have no idea if I’m ready for it.

We pull up to the house, and part of me doesn’t want to get out of the car. Ms. M sighs beside me, like there’s something heavy on her mind.

She breaks the silence first. “I know what you’re thinking,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “But believe it or not, Mr. Conti is a good man. He just comes from a certain tradition, one that surely seems strange to people who didn’t grow up the way he did.”

I can’t help but laugh, but it’s a dry, hollow sound. “A tradition?”

Ms. M chuckles a little, though it’s tinged with something like nostalgia. “That’s the term my parents used when they explained it to me.”

I raise an eyebrow, giving her a sideways look. “So, you come from this sort of lifestyle too?”

She nods, and it’s like a piece of the puzzle clicks into place. No wonder she’s so calm, so in control, even when things go sideways. She’s been in this world longer than I have.

I shake my head, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “What the heck have I gotten myself into?”

Ms. M just gives me a knowing smile but doesn’t say anything else. And honestly, what more is there to say? I’m in deep, and there’s no easy way out.

We pull into the garage, and I can feel my whole body tense up. My eyes automatically drift to the door that leads to the basement. There’s no movement, no sign of activity, but I wonder. Is that guy still in there, still bleeding out? Does he still have all his fingers?

“Don’t think about it,” Ms. M says, her voice cutting through my thoughts like she’s reading my mind.

We park, and I shake off the thoughts as best as I can. I get out and help get the girls from Nico’s backseat. They both look as exhausted as I feel after the whole ordeal.

When we step into the kitchen, I glance at the clock and see that it’s already 4:30. The girls have long missed their naps, and it’s no wonder they look so sleepy.

Ms. M notices too and suggests, “Maybe an early dinner and bedtime would be best.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I agree, still feeling a bit off-kilter.

Nico walks in with Lucia in his arms, and she’s already half-asleep. The tension eases a bit—thankfully, the injury wasn’t as bad as we feared.

“I’m going to give her a bath and feed her upstairs,” Nico says, his voice softer than usual. He glances at me, and for a second, there’s this look—like he’s wondering if this is the last time he’ll see me. It hits me, but before I can even process it, he’s already heading upstairs with Lucia.

I glance out the window. The snow’s really coming down. No way I’m leaving tonight, even if I wanted to. Looks like the storm’s making that decision for me.

Ms. M must see the look on my face because she steps in with a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll whip up something to eat. Just relax.”

I nod, too drained to argue, and collapse into a chair at the kitchen table. My mind’s a mess, but I focus on Ms. M as she moves around the kitchen like a pro. In no time, she’s whipped up a creamy mushroom risotto that smells amazing. She hands a plate to Giulia, who dives right in, and then sets one in front of me.

“Eat up.”

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