Page 2 of Ruthless Boss

“Why isn’t Dante here?” one of them asks. They’re both tall and broad, but this one has a beard.

“Fuck, man, his nanny left yesterday. With Massimo and Amara out of town, he can’t get out that easy,” the other one, who has a cleft in his chin, says.

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. Dante needs a reliable nanny ASAP.”

“He wants to focus on getting rid of Ross Santini, but hiring someone who wants to stay with the baby for as long as he needs is unrealistic. No one wants to be confined in his house, locked away from the world.”

I almost over pour the drink before I give it to the last man. A glimmer of hope flows through me. A rich man needs a nanny—and seems desperate for one.

What a perfect opportunity.

I’d be in a mafia boss’s house, hidden from everyone. I’d save the money I’m paying for my roach-infested motel room. On top of that, I’d be helping my boss take down Ross Santini. A bonus fuck-you to my husband’s family. Of course, that would also be dangerous. My potential boss can’t discover my true identity until I know him better. What if he’s one of those people who kills instead of asking questions?

Can I pull it off? “What’s the salary?” I blurt, clutching the tray against my chest after they each have a flute in their big, strong hands.

Hot Beard tilts his head at me, surprised. As bottle girls, we’re supposed to be seen but not eavesdrop. We’re sexy women wearing sparkly minidresses who smile and joke without putting our noses where they don’t belong.

“Why? You’re interested?” He cocks his head.

I square my shoulders and look around to ensure no one can hear me. Thankfully, this section is almost empty. Chevy is out of sight, and so is Tara. “If it pays well, yes.”

When Hot Beard ballparks the amount, I gasp. That’s way more than I’d ever imagine making—though I imagine that amount covers the downsides of not having a life and working for the mafia.

“Do you have any child experience?”

“Yes, I’ve babysat tons. I love babies.” I slap on a smile, without adding that I only watched babies a few times, mainly because Ciro made me—a coworker of his needed help, and he enlisted me without asking.

Hot Beard scratches his chin. “Sounds like it’s too good to be true.”

I chew on my lower lip. I need to grab this opportunity before it slips away. “I’m… new in town. I don’t have a place to live, so this arrangement would be perfect.”

“Do you think Dante will go for it, Rocco? If we tell him we found the new nanny at a strip club,” the other one asks.

Hot Beard, AKA Rocco, slides to the edge of the leather seat. “The truth can be… interpreted differently.”

Flexible truths. I’ll take that. “I’m all for that, sir.”

Rocco grabs a pen and jolts on a piece of napkin. “Okay. Here’s my brother’s address. Show up at eight tomorrow, and I’ll meet you up front, take you in, and introduce you. No promises.”

2

Dante

I finish changing AJ’s wet diaper and throw it in the trash. She coos at me with a sweet smile on her chubby face. Her green eyes sparkle, and the frustration of being unable to do much work washes away.

Then, a second later, my phone buzzes, and said frustration returns.

She’s sitting now, so I place her beside me in my bed. I brought her crib to my room, but now this has to change. I’ve killed men, blackmailed politicians, and trafficked illegal guns—still do. But I can’t make a seven-month-old baby understand that she needs to sleep in her nursery at night.

To make things worse, the last nanny left.

I moved back home a month ago, and I thought I had found a perfect match—an older woman who was a widow with no grandkids and missed spending time with babies. She was great until a week ago when she broke her hip after she tripped over the diaper trashcan. It was an accident, but word got out, and other potential nannies don’t want to apply because they think I hurt the old broad.

“Bro. Are you here?” Rocco asks, walking in before I reply. He’s one of the few people with the right to appear unannounced at my place—him, my other brothers, and my father.

“Yeah.”

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