Page 13 of Nanny's Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss

The move was a mistake. She lets go of my arm and tugs on her sleeves.

Before it can be awkward, I start down the hallway, and she follows behind me. Her presence makes the heaviness in my chest feel a bit lighter.

“What’s this?” she asks, staring at the wine and cheese board in awe. A smile plays on her pouty lips and my eyes fall to them, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around my cock.

God, she’s so fucking beautiful. She’s curvy with wide hips and thick thighs. An image of her riding me, owning my cock as her own flashes in my mind, and my cock begins to stir. Her breasts are large, more than a few handfuls, and they push against her shirt, stretching the material, and I can’t help but notice her nipples are hard, toying with me.

Fuck, I want to worship her body. It’s perfect. I always loved curves compared to thin women. They couldn’t handle how I like to fuck.

I don’t want my partner to break when I drive my cock into them while I have them face down in the mattress.

“I wanted to welcome you properly.” I sit down quickly to hide my arousal. Pushing the wine glass over to her, she takes it, and takes the spot next to me. “It’s been a busy day. I just wanted to thank you for hanging out with Ella. She loved it.”

She waves my words away after taking a sip of wine. “Don’t worry about it. She’s a great kid. She’s very sweet and so smart.”

“She is. She’s all those things and more. I’m very lucky to have her.” I glance down the hall, fighting the urge to check on her again.

“She really loves you. She wouldn’t stop talking about you over our tea. She also says you let her talk about her parents whenever she wants.” She’s prying, but I’m surprisingly not bothered by it.

I pop a grape in my mouth and chew, wondering how I’m going to answer. “Of course, I do. Their deaths are recent to her. She loves them. She misses them. She deserves to always remember her mom and dad. I’ll never be the kind of person who gets angry or jealous over a child missing the one thing they should always have.” I realize how I sound. My voice is far away as I think back to the childhood I wish I had.

“I think that’s a very amazing quality you have. Not many people would do that. Others think they are in competition with ghosts.”

“There is no competition. Her parents will always be her parents. I’m lucky enough for her to make room in her heart for me and call me her dad.”

“How was it when you first met? What was it like? If that’s okay to ask. I don’t want to pry.”

“No, it’s fine. You should know the family you’re working for, right?”

She nods, nibbling on a piece of cheese.

“I filled out the adoption paperwork, took all the classes, and got approved. They called me and said they had a little girl they thought would be perfect for me. I didn’t waste a second. I got in my car and drove over to the home she was in. I don’t know what it was, but when I saw her, she was so…” I lift my hands, thinking back to the day. “Little. Her eyes were red from crying. Her hair was messy like it hadn’t been brushed in weeks. Her clothes were wrinkled. She looked like someone who was mourning. They had told me about her and what had happened to her parents. I don’t know what it was, but I got out of my car, and we locked eyes. I think both of us felt relief. I don’t know how or why. It was like we sensed we needed one another, I think. She ran to me, and I caught her, wrapping her in a tight hug. She cried, clutching onto my jacket for dear life. She never fought me. She never yelled at me or hated me. She only wanted to grieve and have a parent. I wanted to give that to her. It was an immediate connection. I knew she was mine and I had to protect her. She was my daughter from that moment on. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”

I realize I went on a rant, but before I can apologize, I hear Sophie sniffle and I peer up to see her blue eyes watering. A few tears hit the apples of her cheeks.

“Hey, no. I didn’t mean for you to cry.” I wipe her tears away with my thumb and when I realize what I’ve done, I slowly lower my hand. “I- …sorry.”

“No, don’t be. That’s… really beautiful. When did she start calling you dad?”

I let out a breath, thinking back to another moment that changed me forever. “God, that was a happy fucking moment.” I roll my lips together and laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse—”

“I don’t fucking care,” she jokes, giggling.

It has to be the wine.

I don’t care what it is. I want to hear that sound every damn day.

I take another sip of wine and the glass hits the counter with a clink. “Kids are smart. Adults don’t give kids enough credit. Often times, they aren’t treated with the respect they deserve because adults don’t think kids really know the real world, you know what I mean?”

“I do,” she agrees.

“I never told her she had to call me dad. I introduced myself as Matias Milazzo. Whatever she was comfortable with, I was happy with. I didn’t want her to feel pressure. She didn’t call me anything for a few months. To get my attention, she’d find me and tug my hand. Then one day,” I grin, unable to stop the happiness bursting from me. I don’t ever get to talk about this. It feels so good.

“Then one day? Don’t leave me hanging!” She slaps my shoulder playfully, another giggle escaping her.

We are somehow closer than we were a moment ago. Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, causing her eyes to look ethereal.

“It was so basic. Nothing special was happening. It was a regular day. I was making her breakfast and she was taking a bath. She had forgotten her towel. And she simply just…shouted for me. She yelled, “Daddy! Can you bring me a towel?” And the egg in my hand fell to the floor as I stood, stunned. I ran as fast as I could to grab her towel. Then, I started doubting myself. What if she didn’t mean to call me that? What if she was calling out for her biological father? I tried not to get too excited, but the pain of rejection kept me just outside her bathroom door. I got… scared.”

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