Page 32 of Bellini Born
I lifted my head. “See? You can come visit any time you want, Gabs.”
She threw her arms out wide. “How can you not see this for what it is? ‘Approved list of visitors?’ That’s how they talk in prisons, Summer!”
“I’m not a prisoner. I’ll be there under my own free will.”
I purposely left out the part where coercion was heavily involved in my acceptance of the nanny position. Matteo had done a bang-up job of pulling on my heartstrings when talking about how much his little girls needed me.
“That’s what they want you to think,” she grumbled.
Gabi was known for being dramatic, and I wrote off her mini tantrum as her simply being an overprotective friend. She couldnever understand that the idea of living and working inside the Bellini mansion seemed more like a vacation from my real life than a job.
Truth be told, I was actually looking forward to planning outings, making arts and crafts projects, performing puppet shows, and playing dolls with Bianca. I wasn’t sure what to do with Serafina yet, but I’d do my research on developmentally appropriate activities for an eight-month-old—or I suppose a five-month-old, since she was delayed due to being premature.
I grasped Gabi’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be fine.”
She pursed her lips. “Proof of life text at the end of every day?”
“If that’ll make you feel better, sure.”
She sighed. “Guess I don’t really have much of a choice but to let you go.”
“Ready?” Enzo called from the doorway.
Peeking over my shoulder, I gave him a nod. “Yeah, just one more second.”
I threw my arms around Gabi, hugging her so tight she let out a strained, “Can’t breathe.”
Laughter bubbled up from my chest as I pulled back. “Promise you’ll visit?”
“Like you could keep me away.”
“See you soon, then?”
“Definitely,” she promised.
Spinning around, I turned to face Enzo. “We can go now.”
He extended an arm. “After you.”
I took one more look around the shitty apartment that had only been my home for the past six months. There wasn’t a single part of me that would miss it, but I feared that getting a taste of luxury under Matteo’s roof meant I might never want to leave.
The gates at the end of the driveway opened automatically for Enzo to drive through, and he brought the SUV to a stop before the stone steps leading to the front door of the mansion.
“Let me get your door, then I’ll grab your bags.” He hopped out and jogged around the hood.
Not only did he open my door, he also offered me a hand down from the high seat.
Not gonna lie, I was mildly impressed by the manners of the mafia man, and I began to wonder if Gabi had oversold the “danger” when talking about her family. Surely, criminals and killers weren’t this kind to women they barely knew.
“Thank you,” I murmured once my feet touched the ground.
Enzo popped the trunk, grabbing my suitcase, before leading me up the steps and pushing inside like he owned the place.
“Home sweet home,” he declared.
“Do you live here too?” I asked, eager to learn more about the dynamic between these cousins who seemed extremely close.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I crash here sometimes, but I’ve got my own house a couple of streets over.”
