Page 3 of The Mobster's Nanny

"Actually, I didn't kill the wasp. It…it stung me and flew away."

Well, shit. I sigh with exasperation and look around. So it's still here somewhere. "Look, I gotta get back to work, can you…"

My voice trails off when I turn to look at Romeo. He looks back at me with wide eyes full of terror, and despite the ice pack pressed to his wrist, he reaches out to grab my sleeve. Even before he opens his mouth to cry, I know I have no choice but to find the wasp first.

Finally, some fifteen minutes later, after Romeo agrees with me that there's no wasp around and I apply the cream to his sting, only then do I get back to my office. The screen is flashing with new messages, and the dots on the map are already moving in different directions. Well, at least it looks like the mission was a success.

"How was it?" I ask as soon as I grab my earphones, and I can hear Georgiy startle with a Russian curse on his lips.

"Hey, you have to warn me before entering like that," he complains, and I chuckle, checking the messages. One of them is from Marco, informing me that they've cleared out the building. The gang of thugs is no more.

"Everything went smoothly," Georgiy says in the meantime, typing on his keyboard. "They shot one of my men in the shoulder, sothatis unfortunate."

But it's good enough. If the shooter aimed a few inches to the side, Boris wouldn't have survived.

"Have you captured anyone?" I ask mindlessly, typing a message for Marco to go to the warehouse, our main office, to report about the mission to Riccardo.

After Marco, I switch to the conversation with Louis where I see four unread messages. Damn, did something go wrong? But no, Louis is only complaining that the guy I sent wasn't that good in the fight, so Louis had to deal with the drunks on his own. But the fact that Louis is there to talk to me about it means that there were no casualties, so the guy wasn't that bad either. Louis sends me an angry emoji when I text him that, so he's fine, just his own goofy self.

"No." Georgiy yawns in the meantime, and I hear his armchair squeak as he leans backward. "They wouldn't tell us anything useful, and after the thing with the three Mexicans, Olga isn't in the mood to deal with captives."

I hum under my breath. Yeah, I can imagine.

Olga Pushkova is the head of the Russian Bratva, and last month, they caught three out of five Mexicans that were rummaging around their territory—the other two were shot when trying to escape. The Russians got some information from the pawns of the Escarra family, the third biggest Mafia family in Chicago. But eventually the Mexicans managed to escape, blowing up a storage of weapons on their way out. Olga is still kinda pissed about it, going after the Mexicans with the fervor of the past, but can you blame her, really?

"So," Georgiy drawls after I say nothing for a long minute, entirely focused on the unread messages.

It's nothing weird, to be honest—I often spend hours in silence, just typing messages and murmuring under my nose, and Georgiy knows it as well. So when he clears his throat, I know he wants to talk about something, and I'm pretty sure I know what it is. He understands my problem better than anyone, after all.

"What happened to Romeo?"

I sigh and send a message to Thomas, one of the clan members, to go to Bill's club in Chatham before leaning back in my chair. "A damn wasp stung him in the middle of the evening—and it's not even June yet."

Georgiy chuckles, and yes, I guess it is funny, but I don't want to laugh. This time I had Georgiy to help me, and thankfully nothing serious happened while I was away. But what if Marco got shot? What if the whole thing turned out to be a trap? In the Mafia world, you never know what to expect at any given moment, and I can't drop everything at the first cry from Romeo. Damn, I guess it's time…

"Maybe it's time to find a new nanny, huh?" Georgiy pretty much repeats my thoughts. "I know you work from home, but there's no way around it, man. You can't bring your son to work if you know what I mean."

"I know."

I let out a deep breath and close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. Yeah, I know he's right. Our last nanny was a nice old lady who ran away—quite literally—after Romeo tore her coat into pieces to make a mantle for Dolce. Who would’ve thought it cost over two thousand dollars?

I paid her for it, of course, but it still wasn’t enough. Mrs. Teresa announced that it was her last straw, and if there was anyone capable of handling my little beast, it wasn’t her. I mean, I’m glad she spent only three weeks with us before showing her true opinion of Romeo—but sooner or later, every nanny leaves with the same last words.

Romeo is too difficult, too loud, too out of control.

He’stoo much.

It’s not something any parent would want to hear, but to be fair, Romeo hasn’t always been so restless and demanding. In fact, just a few years ago he was a playful and curious child with just a bit too much energy. He used to be so bright and open to the world around him—but ever since his mother died on a mission, Romeo has turned into this wild version of himself that refuses to listen to anyone.

"You know how hard it is to find someone who gets along with Romeo." I sigh and shake my head, staring at the ceiling. "I'd have to go through a dozen candidates to find a woman willing to drive all the way here only to be met with another one of his tantrums. And Ihave to beextra picky, you know?”

Yes, Romeo’s attitude isn’t the only thing that narrows my options. I can't let someone unpleasant, unprofessional, or involved with the police or our rivals in the Mafia world—and trust me, we have plenty—close to my son. There are just too many things to be cautious about, and it usually takes weeks to find at least one suitable candidate.

Georgiy hums in agreement, typing something on his computer. “Yeah, I know. Have you thought about hiring a full-time nanny, then?”

A full-time nanny? As in, a woman who would live with us here? Well, maybe it would help her and Romeo to get to know each other better…or maybe he would think that I’m trying to find a replacement for his mom.

“I don’t know,” I mutter, rubbing my face to get rid of the heavy thoughts. “I feel like it would be too big of a change for him.”

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