Page 19 of The Mobster's Nanny

“Good.” Matteo lingers in front of me, awkwardly looking up and down the hallway, and finally gives me another smile. “Well, good night then. Thanks for taking care of him.”

“Sure.” I nod again and step away, feeling a pinch of disappointment when Matteo turns away and disappears into his office. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him going to his bedroom. Does he sleep in his office?

I chuckle under my breath, turning around, when something in my mind clicks. Wait, disappointment? My frantic heartbeat? That stupid fond smile on my lips? I clench my jaw, wiping away any trace of a smile, and hurry to get to my bedroom. What do you think you’re doing, Liss? Falling for your goddamn enemy?

I close the door of my bedroom behind me and lean on it with my back, closing my eyes to catch my breath. It’s not like I was running, but something about escaping Matteo makes me wired up. I hate that he has such a strong effect on my body. I hate the feeling that he wakes up in me. I hate that I want him despite everything he’s done.

I hatehimwith every fiber of my being!

The heat of fury and resentment swirls inside of me like a tidal wave rising from my toes to the tip of my head, and I growl under my breath, storming into the room. Old memories flood my mind and I feel like a tiger in a cage, pacing around the room in search of a way out.

My heart is bleeding, but it’s good. Remembering the pain is good. It reminds me what a demon I’m falling for.

Before my glassy eyes, I see the first time I met Matteo Messina—and no, it wasn’t two weeks ago. It happened ten years ago, when Mom was sick but still alive and my older brother Hank took me with him to hang out with his friends. All the way to the meeting place, an old stadium on the outskirts of our neighborhood, Hank kept repeating that I had to be quiet, and I couldn’t understand why.

I understand it clearly now. The men I met that day weren’t his friends. They were members of the Messina family, and my brother was doing some dirty work for them.

Of course, I didn’t know any of that at the time. While Hank was talking to his friends, I just watched them from afar, curiously studying the scary-looking men, and the more details I remember from that day, the more I believe that Matteo was among them. Why wouldn’t he be? He was the one to lure Hank into his family after all.

To be honest, I never found out if Hank actually got accepted into the recruits of the Messina family. Soon after that day, my brother started acting weirdly and disappearing for days on end, and I felt like it had something to do with the friends I’d met before. I tried to tell Hank to stop going out with them and threatened to tell Mom everything. He didn’t care. I guess the money was too good for him to stay away from the obvious dangers of the Mafia world, and soon enough, Hank paid the price.

I still remember Mom’s pale face when the police officer knocked on our door and showed her some photos, asking if it was her son. They never showed the photos to me, but I found them in the archives years later. A twenty-year-old man was shot and dropped on the roadside of highway 57. The photos were gruesome indeed—no wonder they never opened the casket.

The police announced that the murder was a result of clashes between criminal groups in Chicago. They didn’t even provide any suspects—I doubt they even tried to get involved with the Messina family. But I remembered the men I’d seen that day Hank took me to their meeting, and I knew they’d be the ones to lead me to the killer.

By then, Mom had already passed away, leaving me with her medical bills and an old house in the suburbs of Chicago, and I was studying art at a private university and living with the boyfriend I had at the time. We broke up soon after, but as a member of a low-ranked gang, he was the first one to introduce me to the Mafia world.

It took me almost a year to find the perfect allies that hated the Messinas just as much as I did—the Escarra family—and to find out that Matteo was the one behind Hank’s murderer. At the time, the Escarra had already established themselves as the third biggest Mafia family in Chicago, yet it seemed that their desire to destroy the Messinas was as strong as ever.

Giovanni was the first man I got in touch with when I contacted the Escarra family, and he remains the only point of contact I have with the Mexicans. They don’t want me anywhere near their business, and I don’t want to be involved with them either, so I’m actually glad to stay away from the rest of the family. Giovanni is always cool and professional, and I don’t ask for anything else.

He was the one to tell me about Romeo and persuade me into changing my major from art to teaching. The degree would give me a chance to get closer to Romeo as a teacher, and while our original plan failed—I didn’t get a job at Romeo’s school—as you see, my degree turned out to be useful. As soon as Giovanni informed me that Matteo was looking for a nanny to look after his son, I grabbed my only chance—and now I have to use it, goddamnit!

I clench my fists, barely holding back the urge to hit something, and flop onto the bed, staring at the rug under my feet. Yes, it’s time to forget about my stupid heart and focus on what truly matters. I got into Matteo’s house for one reason: to get rid of him once and for all. I can’t allow this affection, desire, or whatever these feelings are to distract me.

I take a deep breath, open the drawer of my bedside table with a key, and take out an old jewelry box. Inside, I find the bottle that Giovanni gave me last week, and the sight of it spurs my determination.

The weapon is in my hands already, and tomorrow, I will kill Matteo Messina.

The thought follows me all night, and I toss and turn in my bed, thinking about the best way to pour ethylene glycol into Matteo’s food. Should I give him the poison with breakfast? No, with Romeo around, it’s too dangerous that he’ll decide to grab his Papa’s plate instead. Besides, I don’t want him to see what will happen to Matteo. I don’t want him to see it at all…

My heart tightens, and I clutch the fabric of my pajama shirt against my chest and clench my jaw. The air in my bedroom suddenly feels too thick, and I have to take a breath to steady myself. No, no, it doesn’t matter, I don’t care. I have to kill Matteo, there’s no way around it.

By the morning, I finally have an idea in mind, and I repeat it to myself while staring at myself in the mirror. While Romeo is away at school and Matteo has his usual coffee break, I’ll sneak into his office and pour ethylene glycol into the bottle of water he keeps on his desk. Sooner or later, he’ll drink it all—but by then I will already be far away from here.

Having a clear plan helps me fight all doubts and useless thoughts crawling into my mind. I feel like my own self is against me, my heart and mind clashing in a battle, and I can feel it in the tension of my chest and the weight on my shoulders.

I guess it finds a reflection in my behavior as well because, while I’m serving breakfast for Romeo under Matteo’s curious gaze, he suddenly asks, “Are you alright, Liss? You don’t look well.”

Shit.

I force a smile and glance at him, avoiding his gaze. “Yes, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Do you need a break? Just tell me. I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.” Matteo frowns, leaning on the kitchen counter to get a better look at my face, and I feel a pinch in my heart. God, why does he have to be so nice?

Maybe because I’m a young woman he clearly likes, huh? Because Matteo wasn’t nice or caring with my brother at all, and Ialwayshave to remember that. He is a member of a Mafia family, and deep down under his smiles and charming gestures, his heart is full of darkness.

It’s a good reminder to myself, and I keep it in mind for the rest of the morning, not allowing any other thoughts to distract me. It’s hard to bid goodbye to Romeo, not knowing if I’ll ever see him again, but I gather myself together and lock my heart to keep it from growing weak. I have to do this. I have to.

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