Page 46 of Protecting My Nanny

"Hello," I whisper, slipping out of bed and moving to the closet, where the darkness feels safer.

"I have something for you," a voice says. It takes a moment, but I recognize it—Francesca, disguising herself with an accent. Clever girl. We skip the pleasantries, following the protocol we've established over weeks of covert messages.

"Lonzo," she says, and then gives me a number. My fingers tremble as I punch it into my phone. "Listen," she continues, her tone steady, "he can be intimidating, and he should be—he's well-connected. But don't give too much away. Stay calm, and don't let him sense any fear. Call now; he's waiting."

The line goes dead, leaving me in the oppressive silence of the closet. My chest tightens, and I take a slow, deliberate breath. "You can do this, Nicole," I murmur to myself, my voice barely a whisper. Giovanni's image flashes in my mind—vulnerable, lost—and with a surge of resolve, I press the call button.

The phone rings, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness, until a raspy voice answers. "Nicola," he says, the familiarity in his tone sending a wave of unease through me.

"I was told you have information for me," I say, striving to keep my voice level, hiding the anxiety that's gnawing at me.

"Perhaps," he replies, his tone as cold as ice. "But first, let's talk money. You'll need to pay before I answer any questions."

"How much to ask you a question?" I ask, trying to steady my shaking hands.

"Five grand of your USD," he states, the confidence in his voice making it clear this isn't up for negotiation.

"I'll give you two, and another two if what you say is useful," I counter, hoping to strike a deal.

"No, no, little Nicola. You pay me five large up front, and I answer one question. If you want more, you pay as we go."

I hesitate, feeling a knot of apprehension forming in my stomach. "I don't even know you…"

"Oh, but you do, Nicola. You've at least heard of me, haven't you?"

"Yes, rumors," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Rumors can be misleading," he says, the smirk almost audible in his voice. "When you ask the kind of questions you've been asking, you attract attention. Trust me, most of the money you've spent looking for little Gio has found its way to me. And most of the information you've received… well, you're welcome. It was only a matter of time before we had this conversation."

His words send a wave of dread through me. I feel cornered, but I can't afford to show it. "Five thousand is steep," I say, my voice wavering slightly. "I'm not wealthy, and I don't even know if what you have is worth it."

"You wouldn't be talking to me if it wasn't worth it," he replies smoothly. "And I wouldn't be talking to you if I wasn't sure you could afford it."

His confidence is unnerving, and I can't help but feel like a pawn in a game I don't fully understand. "Fine," I relent, knowing I have no choice. "How do I send it?"

"You have someone in Italy who you've been sending money to, someone who gave you my name. Get it to them, say nothing, and they'll know what it's for. Then you call me back and ask your question."

"I'll call you back," I say, feeling the last bit of control slipping away.

"I'll be waiting," he replies before the line clicks off.

Back in bed, I feel a growing sense of despair. "I just need to end this," I tell myself, staring at the ceiling, knowing that sleep will not come again tonight.

The next morning, I lie in bed, scrolling through my phone. Shane has taken charge of Jaime's morning routine, allowing me to rest, though my mind is anything but at ease. Despite everything, I can't help but feel grateful for Shane's presence in my life.

Around 8 a.m., Shane taps at my door, but doesn't enter. He tells me he's taking Jaime to school, and they both say goodbye. I get up, offer them a tired smile, and then return to bed. An hour later, the confirmation comes—the money has been sent.

I call Lonzo back immediately.

"Good girl," he answers, his voice laced with something that feels like condescension. "That boss of yours must really like you to toss that kind of money around. Keep him close; you might need more soon."

"You've got your money," I say, cutting through his smug tone. "Tell me what you know about Giovanni."

"Your brother has been running with the Serpenti," Lonzo says bluntly, the words hitting me like a physical blow. The name alone makes my skin crawl.No, not them, I think, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

"It doesn't seem voluntary, but he's learning quickly to get his hands dirty. You have heard there was a body left at his last known location. The man was someone your brother and his crew were sent to intimidate."

My heart sinks as I listen, the truth of his words cutting through my hope. I don't want to believe him, but the tone of his voice and his reputation make it hard to doubt. "I need to talk to Gio. How can I reach him?" I ask, desperation creeping into my voice.

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