Page 36 of Protecting My Nanny

"We need to go. Now," he says, his voice low and full of urgency. He starts walking faster, pulling me along with him, and I drag Gio with us, quickening my pace.

I glance over my shoulder and spot an older man with a beard, dressed in all black, hurrying toward us. Gio squeezes my arm tighter.

"Don't look back," Raffaele orders, his voice steely. He lightly shoves us off the main street and into a narrow alley, his pace increasing to a light jog. The footsteps behind us grow louder, and I know the man is still in pursuit. Raffaele pulls out his pistol and cocks it, his movements swift and practiced.

We reach a corner, and Raffaele pushes us to the side, out of view. He turns and fires a shot down the alley. I hear othergunshots echoing farther back, and I wonder if they're from our pursuer or one of Raffaele's men who might have gotten the drop on him.

We wait in tense silence until the SUV comes speeding around the corner. It screeches to a halt in front of us, and Raffaele shoves us into the backseat, climbing in behind us. As we pull away, I catch a glimpse of the alley, where the man who was following us now lies still and lifeless between the narrow walls.

The drive back is silent, the weight of what just happened pressing down on all of us. Raffaele doesn't even bother to look at us. After what he's just done or seen, his cold, emotionless expression is truly the scariest thing I've ever seen. Gio clings to my side, his earlier smile completely gone, replaced by the hollow look he's worn since our parents died. I wrap my arms around him, trying to offer comfort, but I'm just as shaken.

The brief taste of freedom we had in the market square is gone, replaced once again by the cold reality of our situation. And as much as I want to protect Gio and give him some semblance of a normal life, I know that as long as Raffaele is in control, normalcy is a luxury we can't afford.

All these years later, the memory is still as vivid as ever—the smell of the ocean air, the terror on Giovanni's face, the echo of bullets ringing through the alleyway. It still gets my heart racing and my hands trembling. I can only imagine what Giovanni has endured all these years without me. What have they done to him? Is he still the sweet, innocent boy I left behind with promises of a home far away from all of it? Does he resent me for not coming back sooner? Would I even recognize him now?

I can't reach my contacts anymore. If I offer them cash, they might answer the phone. It's driven me to Shane's office. I stand outside his door, hesitant. I can hear his voice as he makes his usual morning calls. He's busy, working even on his day off, and here I am, about to interrupt him. My hand hovers over the doorknob, ready to turn and walk away. But then Gio's face flashes in my mind—the man with the beard lying dead in the alley.

No, I tell myself firmly.He needs me.

I turn back and knock on the door three times.

"Come in," Shane calls out. He gives me a warm smile as I enter, then holds up a single index finger, mouthing the words, "One sec."

I nod and stand, waiting.

"I'll call you back. Thanks again, Oliver." He hangs up the phone and turns his attention to me, a welcoming grin on his face. "Hey," he says. "What's up?"

"I..." I hesitate, but before I can continue, he speaks.

"You look gorgeous, by the way," he adds, his voice softening.

I blush and smile. "Thank you, Shane. I hate to ask, but I really need another advance. I know it's only been a few weeks since the last one..."

"Done. Just tell me how much you need, Nicole. It's done."

"Really? Thank you, Shane. Two months should do. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. You're more than I could ever ask for," I say, my voice thick with genuine gratitude.

"You're more than Jaime and I could ever ask for. You're a part of this household now, a part of our lives. Don't hesitate to tell us if you need anything or have any problems. I want you to feel safe and confident in that," Shane says, his words sincere.

I can sense his desire for me to trust him and to open up about everything. He's too intelligent not to be curious, and I know he's holding back from asking why I need the money. But I can't tell him—not yet. I need to keep them safe.

"Is there anything else?" Shane asks.

"No," I shake my head. "I need to make Jaime's lunch. Sorry to disturb you. Thank you again, Shane." I walk over and kiss him on the cheek, then turn to leave.

"Nicole," he calls out as I grasp the doorknob.

My heart skips a beat. I knew it was too easy. He wants to know why, and if I'm going to get the money, I'll need to give him some explanation.

"Yes?" I say, turning around, already searching for a plausible excuse.

"I think I'll join you for lunch. Is that okay?" he asks, his voice light with no trace of suspicion.

"Of course, Shane. You're always more than welcome," I reply, relieved.

"Great," he says, standing up and walking toward the door with me. I open it, and he follows me downstairs to the kitchen.

Jaime is right where I left him, playing with his iPad at the dining table.

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