Page 77 of Nanny for the Don

“Merry Christmas!” they squeal, practically vibrating with excitement.

Ms. M follows behind them, her hands up in surrender. “I tried to hold them off as long as I could, but... itisChristmas.”

I laugh, giving the girls hugs and kisses, Nico doing the same. “Okay, okay, we’re up!”

We shuffle downstairs, and the girls immediately dive into their presents, paper flying everywhere. It’s chaos, the kind you loveon a morning like this.

Nico walks over to Ms. M, who’s watching with a smile from the kitchen. He hands her a small box, and she looks surprised. “For you,” he says with a grin. “From Willow and me.”

She opens it to find a beautiful silver bracelet with tiny charms—each one representing a memory or a place she’s mentioned from home in Italy. Her eyes well up a little, and she gives Nico a tight hug. “Grazie mille, you both, it’s beautiful.”

I nudge Nico, handing him my gift. He unwraps it to reveal a gorgeous pair of house slippers. “A little hint to take it easy every now and then,” I joke.

He laughs, pulling me in for a kiss. “I love it. But your present’s downstairs.”

He grins, and my curiosity spikes.

The girls are practically bouncing in place, barely able to contain their excitement. “You’re gonna love it! We helped!” they chirp in unison.

I laugh, already intrigued. “Okay, okay, let’s see this masterpiece.”

We all rush downstairs, heading straight for Nico’s home gym, and the second I step inside, my jaw drops. Part of his gym has been completely transformed—not just into a yoga corner, but a full-on video studio for my YouTube lessons.

“Oh my God, Nico!” I gasp, eyes wide.

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. “I know you’ve been wanting to take your yoga classes to the next level, so I thought why not? It’s got everything you need—studio lighting, a camerasetup that’s already hooked up to the stream, soundproofing so no interruptions, and a bunch of backdrops depending on your mood for the day.”

I walk further in, my heart pounding with excitement as I take it all in. Then the girls tug on my sleeve, pointing to the wall. “Look!” they say, giggling. I spot their tiny handprints in colorful paint on the corner of the studio wall, and next to them, a set of new yoga mats they picked out. One’s got stars, the other, unicorns.

Tears prick my eyes as I turn to Nico. “You did all this for me?”

He nods, his smile softening. “It’s a stepping stone to your own business, for whenever you’re ready.”

I throw my arms around him, then scoop the girls into the hug too. “I love you all so much. This is... perfect.”

“I love you too,” Nico murmurs, kissing the top of my head.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

One year later…

I’m in the middle of a lesson, and even a year later I still can’t believe how perfect this setup is. The massive TV on the wall shows a grid full of tiny windows—at least a hundred people tuning in from all over the world, no more squinting at my tiny MacBook mid-stretch. Now I’m actually teaching, not juggling tech.

“Alright, everyone, let’s move into our final pose—child’s pose,” I say, settling back on my heels and extending my arms forward,feeling the stretch down my spine. “Take a deep breath in, and exhale slowly... let your body relax.”

I scan the screen, watching people from every time zone melt into the pose. It’s surreal, seeing my little yoga community grow like this. I guide them through a few more breaths, my voice calm and steady, even though I’m buzzing with excitement inside.

Right on cue, I hear the baby monitor crackle to life, followed by a tiny, insistent wail. I can’t help but laugh.

“Well, looks like my little man knows when it’s time to wrap up,” I tell the class with a grin. “Thanks for joining me today, everyone. Same time next week!”

I wave goodbye and shut off the feed, smiling as I head upstairs to check on the baby. As I walk, I can’t help but think about how far things have come. My classes are taking off, I’m reaching more people than I ever imagined, and best of all? I’m having a blast doing it.

Life is good.

It’s the Christmas season again, and the whole house feels alive with a festive buzz. I head upstairs to the kitchen, where Lucia and Giulia are sitting at the table, happily munching on pancakes while Ms. M handles the morning routine until the new nanny arrives.

“Morning, girls,” I say, ruffling their hair as I pass by.

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