Page 41 of The Mobster's Nanny

It takes a little more than twenty minutes to get to the point on the map, but by the time I park outside an old industrial railway station there’s already another car hidden in the shadow of the overgrown bushes. So Giovanni is here. Has he brought anyone else with him? I glance around, narrowing my eyes in the strong winds. It’s hard to say, to be honest—the whole place looks empty and desolate, but there are all too many spots to hide in.

Whatever. I grab the strap of my backpack tighter and walk to the open doors. If there’s someone around to cover him up, then so be it.

It’s almost surprising just how cold my heart is when I enter the building. Maybe I should be feeling, I don’t know,something—but instead, there’s this overwhelming emptiness inside of me that doesn’t let me slow down and think about my own safety. Am I doing the right thing? Am I walking into a trap? It doesn’t matter.

Survival isn’t my goal anymore—because there’s nothing left in my life to hold on to. All I need is revenge to find my closure.

“Melissa,” I hear a moment before my eyes find Giovanni’s figure in the shadows. He pushes himself away from the wall and steps into the line of light.

The old station has high and dirty windows below the ceiling that fill the place with daylight coming from outside. The sun is peeking through thin clouds running above the city, and I can see dust dancing in the air, the squares of bright sunlight lying on the floor. But the wind keeps whistling through the cracks and open windows, pushing the clouds over the sun, and before I say anything the whole place turns gray.

“Is it safe here?” I ask in a low and steady voice, walking closer to him as if the echo doesn’t carry his voice far enough for me to hear. I feel no tension or intimidation that usually follows me in Giovanni’s presence. I act with confidence—and it seems to catch him off guard.

He frowns, watching me walk toward him, but doesn’t step back. “It is. What do you have?”

I chuckle. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Giovanni widens his eyes for a moment before rolling them and pursing his lips. “What do you mean you havenothing?Why the fuck did I—”

“I have nothing on the Messinas,” I cut him off and stop a few feet away from him. “But I have the truth now.”

He looks up at me with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you lie to me?” I take the backpack off my shoulder, holding his gaze with my chin high and my shoulders straight.

“What?” Giovanni frowns with a perfectly faked look of confusion. “I don’t understand, Liss. If you have something actually—”

“Why did you lie to me about my brother?” I repeat louder, not allowing him to change the subject, and take out the gun, dropping the backpack onto the floor. The heavy sound of it echoes in the silence that follows the movement.

“You shouldn’t play with things like that,” he says carefully as if talking to a child, probably assessing his situation, but it does nothing to shake me off my course. Instead, it only makes frustration flare up in my chest, and before he can do anything I raise the gun to aim at his forehead.

“Why did you lie to me about my brother?” I repeat again, this time through gritted teeth, and take a step toward Giovanni. “Why did you tell me Matteo did it? Were you ashamed of your own fucking family?”

For a moment, it looks as if Giovanni is genuinely caught off guard. He looks up at me with a frown and quickly shakes his head. “What are you talking about? It was them. The Messinas did it!”

“No, they didn’t!” I yell back at him, stepping close enough to push the muzzle of my gun against his forehead. “Matteo told me the truth. You did it. You killed him!”

A wave of heated rage runs through me, whispering in my ear to kill Giovanni once and for all, and I lay my finger on the trigger—when all of a sudden, something breaks through the cage of my heart. It’s as if invisible claws dig through my chest, and through the heartache choking me I see Romeo’s smiling face.

The memories of our life together flash before my eyes, and I have to blink to clear my vision from the tears swelling in my eyes. Will I ever get to experience it again? Will we ever be a family? Over the last few days, I’ve been trying to stop myself from thinking about going back—but I can’t. Those two are too deep in my heart, and god, I still want to be with them.

Maybe I still can.

Right now, there’s still a chance for me—but as soon as I pull the trigger, I won’t be able to turn back. I’ll be a murderer, no better than the man in front of me. His blood will be on my hands. How am I supposed to hold Romeo with these hands? How will I ever look him in the eyes and say that I took the life of another person?

But it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter! Matteo will never accept me again, and now this is my only chance to get my revenge, to make things right. The Mexicans didn’t stop to think twice before killing Hank. Why should I?

I clench my jaw, avoiding Giovanni’s gaze. I have to, I have to, god, I—

“Liss!”

Hurried steps pierce through the rustle of winds from outside, the door screeches under someone’s touch, and I don’t have to turn my head to recognize the voice. “Matteo?”

My heart immediately starts beating faster when I hear him walking closer, and it finally settles the debate in my head—because for this man, I can’t ruin my own life. There has been too much pain in this world. I don’t want to make the one I love suffer.

Chapter 15 - Matteo

My heart is pounding and my own breath is loud in my ears when I pause at the entrance of the station to take in the scene in front of me. Liss stands a dozen feet away from me with her arms raised and her eyes set on the man in front of her. I don’t recognize him—he’s probably one of the Escarra men—but it doesn’t matter right now.

---