Page 3 of Nanny's Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss

Adoption.

I’ve always wanted to adopt, and when the opportunity presented itself, I grabbed it. Ella’s parents died in a terrible accident, leaving her the only survivor, and when we met, it was an instant connection. I knew I wanted to protect her with my life.

She’s the best part of me and keeps me optimistic.

“I just wanted to say hi,” she says, placing her head on my shoulder.

I wrap my arm around her and sit down, lifting my head to look at Gianni. “Tell him I’ll be with him in ten minutes. Okay?”

Gianni knows that no matter what, my daughter comes first. Everyone else can go straight to hell.

“I’ll let him know.”

When the door shuts, Ella buries her face into my neck and gets comfortable. “What’s wrong, Ella Bella? Talk to me.” I rub her back in soothing circles and she sighs dramatically, as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“I miss you. Can we go get ice cream later? Or go to the playground?”

We have a playground in our own backyard, but I know it isn’t the same. It doesn’t have other children.

“Anything you want. I have this meeting and then we can go.” My phone dings and it’s Gianni. He must be standing on the other side of the door and can hear me because the message says:

Remember, you’re interviewing the nanny this afternoon as well.

Damn it. That’s right. “And I have to interview the nanny, remember?”

She sticks out her bottom lip. “I remember. Will she play with me when you can’t?”

“Absolutely.” I clear my throat when regret bubbles up. “You know I always want to play with you, right? You know how much I love tea time.”

She gives me a big smile that shows her dimples. “I know, Daddy. I love you, anyway.”

I snort, placing her feet on the ground. “I love you too. Why don’t you go set up your room for tea time and I’ll see if we can’t get tea in before I interview the nanny? I can’t make any promises, but today we will be having tea.”

She squeals with excitement and runs out of the room. Her feet patter on the floor as she sprints down the hallway.

I chuckle, but it doesn’t stop the ache in my heart, wishing I could give Ella my undivided attention. It’s why I’m hiring a nanny. I need help here. Being a single dad is much harder than I thought it would be. I wouldn’t change it for the world, though.

I pick up my phone and text Gianni.

“Bring him in.”

I place my elbows on the table and wait for a potential customer or victim to walk through the door.

When he does, I watch as a tall lanky man with slicked back hair and a nervous smile stumbles through the door. Gianni rolls his eyes and gives me a look that says I do not need to be worried.

“Mr. Milazzo,” his voice quivers as he stretches out his hand. “It is nice to meet you. Th-thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” He stutters slightly with nerves. There’s sweat on his brow, and he reaches to wipe it off with his forearm.

I stare at his hand, knowing it will be sweaty, and decide against it. “Please, sit down, Mr. Rochester. Interesting name,” I say, looking at his file that Gianni gave me.

No criminal record. Decent credit score—not that I care about that—and he is married. Good. If he’s married it means he has something to live for. He’ll be more diligent with the money and honest if he truly loves his wife. Oh, and he has a child. Eighteen. Fantastic.

He drops his hand and sits down. His legs begin to shake, and his fingers intertwine with one another.

I narrow my eyes. “Do you plan on attacking me, Mr. Rochester?”

His eyes widen in horror at the accusation. “No, Mr. Milazzo. Never. I would never do such a thing.” He shakes his head so much, sweat flies from the ends of his hair and onto my desk.

I curl my lip in disgust. “Please, stop shaking. You’re getting your sweat everywhere.”

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