Page 4 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
She knew what it was like to live at the bottom of the pack. To be constantly pushed around, bullied even. To be defined by nothing else. She never wanted to return to that life, and she certainly didn’t want it for Thea.
But looking at her daughter, at the piles of bills, at the fraying clothes and empty cupboards, she knew she might not have a choice.
Picking up her phone, she took a deep breath and dialed Amelia’s number.
“Hey girl, what’s up?”
“I’d like the name of the nanny agency, please.”
Chapter 2 - Nicolas
Nicolas Accardi had found himself in more than one precarious situation in his lifetime.
There had been the destruction of the Old Guard, the tense few years when Felix’s father had nearly driven the pack into shallow graves over petty territory squabbles and Felix himself had risen up against the ruling wolves and thrown them aside. Nicolas had never left his side, even when facing down his own father. He still bore the scars.
Then, of course, there had been the breakthrough of his company. It had teetered on the edge of greatness for several sleepless months, attacked on every side by rival firms uneasy at the growing threat, ready to plummet away into obscurity while Nicolas gave nearly every piece of himself to keep it from the abyss. The stress would have killed a human. Luckily, he wasn’t one.
Then there was the responsibility of helping to run the pack. Nicolas had been given complete control of the assets of the Iron Walkers, instructed to bring wealth and prosperity to Silvermist and its people. It wasn’t only the pack who relied on his business acumen; the humans that thrived in their land also owed their comforts to him. Other packs looked at the bountiful feast he had created and desired it for themselves. Nicolas wasn’t opposed to bloodshed, though admittedly, he usually left diplomacy to Rick and violence to Dane. But more than once, his hand had been forced.
All these things Nicolas had faced. He had stood tall and proud against overwhelming odds, and emerged victorious.
Which just made his present situation even more ridiculous.
“Gracie,” he said, his voice heavy with warning, “put the bowl down. Now.”
Gracie, completely oblivious to her father’s scrutiny, gurgled happily and continued to wave the bowl of yogurt and fruit about with alarmingly jerky movements.
Nicolas narrowed his eyes as he considered his options.
If he let her continue waving it around, it would definitely end up a complete mess on the floor. Not a huge problem, but his cleaners weren’t due for another hour. If he tried to pry it from her, it would no doubt become the worst day of her life, and her resultant temper tantrum might shatter his eardrums. And a mess would probably still be made.
“Gracie, please,” he said again, raising his hands in mock surrender, “you win. Now put the bowl down, and eat your snack.”
“Dadadada,” Gracie sang, her little legs kicking, knocking the bowl against the highchair tray. Her tufted dark hair was sticking out in every single direction, the bow long since lost, and her sparkling blue eyes glinted with mischief.
“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” Nicolas asked, wincing as a glob of yogurt dribbled over the side of the bowl and down Gracie’s front. He’d forgotten to put her bib on.
Great. More laundry to be arranged.
Just then, his mobile phone blared out from the counter, the sudden sound shocking his daughter, who shrieked in displeasure. On pure instinct, Nicolas whirled and growled, his wolf rearing up at the potential threat to his child, but the aggression ebbed into pure frustration as he saw the name displayed.
Leonard Lewis, Chief Financial Officer of Nero Incorporated. The only man brave, or perhaps stupid, enough to try and contact Nicolas when he’d made it clear he wasn’t to be disturbed. Nicolas jabbed the phone, switching the call off. He’d get back to Leonard later.
He turned back to his daughter, fully intent on getting the infant back under control, when a sticky clump of fruit and yogurt hit him square in the chest.
Gracie clapped her hands together and squealed in delight, the remainder of her food not currently dripping down his front flung to the floor. Her little grin shone from her mucky face, and despite himself, Nicolas couldn’t help but smile.
He’d get the shirt dry-cleaned. It wasn’t like he had a shortage of Armani.
“What am I going to do with you?” he ruffled her hair, trying his best to wipe her face. She writhed away from him, chattering nonsense sounds and syllables, smearing more yogurt over himself.
His phone chimed, a new voicemail from Leonard to join the others. It would be shareholder nonsense, or perhaps annual reporting. Or maybe yet another reminder that he hadn’t been to the office in months and people were starting to get apprehensive. He didn’t care. His daughter came first. She would always come first.
It had become a familiar mantra in recent weeks. His phone chimed again, but this time it was the familiar sound of his security alert. He opened the app, only half paying attention as he continued his fight to clean his daughter up.
“It’s Felix, boss.”
“Let him through,” Nicolas said, “open the front door.”
