Nanny for the Don: Chapter 23

Nico showed up just a little after us., looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He barely said a word, except to his little girls, making sure they were okay. It was sweet, but also kind of eerie—like there was this whole other side of him he was keeping under wraps. I guess after what I saw in the basement, I shouldn’t be surprised.

The doctor put butterfly stitches over the small cut and reassured us that Lucia didn’t have a concussion. We all breathed a sigh of relief.

Now, we’re in Ms. M’s car, heading back to Nico’s place. The snow’s coming down hard, making the roads slick. Nico’s in his car, driving with the girls, and my thoughts are all over the place.

I don’t even know what I want to do. Part of me wants to get as far away from this whole situation as possible—just pack up and leave. But then there’s the other part, the part that’s still stuck on how Nico was with his girls, how he was with me before everything went sideways. It’s confusing as hell, and I’m not sure which way I’m leaning.

Also, I’m carrying the man’s child. That adds a whole other level to this convoluted mess I’ve found myself in.

The car’s quiet, except for the soft hum of the heater and the sound of snow hitting the windows. I can’t shake the feeling that something big is coming, and I have no idea if I’m ready for it.

We pull up to the house, and part of me doesn’t want to get out of the car. Ms. M sighs beside me, like there’s something heavy on her mind.

She breaks the silence first. “I know what you’re thinking,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “But believe it or not, Mr. Conti is a good man. He just comes from a certain tradition, one that surely seems strange to people who didn’t grow up the way he did.”

I can’t help but laugh, but it’s a dry, hollow sound. “A tradition?”

Ms. M chuckles a little, though it’s tinged with something like nostalgia. “That’s the term my parents used when they explained it to me.”

I raise an eyebrow, giving her a sideways look. “So, you come from this sort of lifestyle too?”

She nods, and it’s like a piece of the puzzle clicks into place. No wonder she’s so calm, so in control, even when things go sideways. She’s been in this world longer than I have.

I shake my head, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “What the heck have I gotten myself into?”

Ms. M just gives me a knowing smile but doesn’t say anything else. And honestly, what more is there to say? I’m in deep, and there’s no easy way out.

We pull into the garage, and I can feel my whole body tense up. My eyes automatically drift to the door that leads to the basement. There’s no movement, no sign of activity, but I wonder. Is that guy still in there, still bleeding out? Does he still have all his fingers?

“Don’t think about it,” Ms. M says, her voice cutting through my thoughts like she’s reading my mind.

We park, and I shake off the thoughts as best as I can. I get out and help get the girls from Nico’s backseat. They both look as exhausted as I feel after the whole ordeal.

When we step into the kitchen, I glance at the clock and see that it’s already 4:30. The girls have long missed their naps, and it’s no wonder they look so sleepy.

Ms. M notices too and suggests, “Maybe an early dinner and bedtime would be best.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I agree, still feeling a bit off-kilter.

Nico walks in with Lucia in his arms, and she’s already half-asleep. The tension eases a bit—thankfully, the injury wasn’t as bad as we feared.

“I’m going to give her a bath and feed her upstairs,” Nico says, his voice softer than usual. He glances at me, and for a second, there’s this look—like he’s wondering if this is the last time he’ll see me. It hits me, but before I can even process it, he’s already heading upstairs with Lucia.

I glance out the window. The snow’s really coming down. No way I’m leaving tonight, even if I wanted to. Looks like the storm’s making that decision for me.

Ms. M must see the look on my face because she steps in with a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll whip up something to eat. Just relax.”

I nod, too drained to argue, and collapse into a chair at the kitchen table. My mind’s a mess, but I focus on Ms. M as she moves around the kitchen like a pro. In no time, she’s whipped up a creamy mushroom risotto that smells amazing. She hands a plate to Giulia, who dives right in, and then sets one in front of me.

“Eat up.”

I ,” she says with a knowing smile. I take a bite, and for a moment, it’s like the world isn’t crashing down around me.

I take one more bite, then another, and before I even realize it, my plate is clean. The food’s so good, I don’t even care that I practically inhaled it. Without saying a word, Ms. M. scoops another serving onto my plate, and I just keep eating, my eyes fixed on the snow swirling outside.

Eventually, Giulia pipes up, “Can I be excused to watch TV?”

Ms. M smiles at her. “If you get into your pajamas all by yourself, then yes, you can watch a little TV before bed.”

Giulia’s face lights up, and she bolts out of the kitchen, clearly thrilled with the deal. I keep eating until I’m finally, blissfully full, then lean back in my chair, feeling a little more human.

Ms. M watches me with a satisfied smile. “How was it?”

“Amazing. ,” I say, patting my stomach. “Exactly what I needed.”

“There’s cannoli in the fridge.” Her eye twinkles a little after she speaks.

I laugh, shaking my head.I laugh “I seriously couldn’t eat another bite.”

Ms. M. leans in with a playful wink. “You know, Italian women take words like that as a challenge.”

I can’t help but grin. “Well, I’m not about to get in the way of tradition, but I’m waving the white flag this time.”

Without another word, Ms. M. opens the fridge and pulls out the cannolis. She grabs two plates, places a cannoli on each, and sits down next to me, sliding one over.

I glance at it and ask, “Can I get a fork?”

Ms. M. laughs, shaking her head. “You don’t eat cannoli with a fork. You eat it like this.” She picks hers up and takes a huge bite, not caring about the powdered sugar dusting her lips.

I raise an eyebrow but follow suit, taking a big bite, and wow—it’s as delicious as it looks. We eat in comfortable silence for a minute, the kitchen filled with the sounds of chewing and the occasional contented sigh.

Eventually, I ask, “Why are you being so nice to me? I clearly defied you earlier.”

Ms. M smiles. “Let’s just say I understand more than you think. You’ve been through a lot today, more than most would handle. Doesn’t hurt to show a little kindness, right?”

I nod, appreciating the moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Ms. M wipes her hands on a napkin and looks at me with a knowing smile. “There’s something else,” she says. , her tone casual but serious. “You’re damn good at your job, Willow.”

I nearly choke on my cannoli, coughing as I laugh. “You really think so?”

“I do,” Ms. M. says, nodding. “Kids bump their heads—it’s practically a hobby for them. But you stayed calm under pressure, handled the situation, and did what needed to be done. That’s what matters.”

I blink, a little thrown by the compliment.

“And then,” Ms. M. continues, leaning in slightly, “there’s the little matter of what you saw downstairs.”

I freeze, my stomach doing a flip. “Yeah, about that…”

“Like it or not,” she says , her voice steady but firm, “you’re part of our world now. You know more than most people should, and you’ve proven you can handle it.”

I don’t know how to feel about that. Part of me wants to scream, “Get me the hell out of here!” But another part—the part that’s still sitting at this table, eating cannoli and feeling almost… comfortable—makes me pause.

I push my plate aside, suddenly not so hungry. “I didn’t exactly ask for this, you know.”

“No one ever does.” Ms. M leans back in her chair, her eyes soft but serious. “Some people are born into this life, like me and Mr. Conti. And some are pulled into it, like you.”

I don’t say anything, but her words hit harder than I expected. I’ve felt like that for a while now, like I’ve been getting closer and closer to something I couldn’t turn away from. Seeing what happened downstairs today? That was just a formality. Something I knew was coming, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

“I guess I could’ve walked out the door at any time,” I say quietly, more to myself than to Ms. M.

She nods. “You still can. It’s not too late. Mr. Conti would be disappointed, but he’d understand.”

I glance out the window, watching the snow fall in thick, heavy flakes. The world outside looks so peaceful, so untouched by everything swirling around me. But I know it’s not just the snow keeping me here.

I could leave, but something keeps pulling me back. The girls. I’ve come to love them. And Nico, and the fact that I’m pregnant with his child.

I turn back to Ms. M, my curiosity getting the best of me. “What happened to Mrs. Conti?”

She pauses, her expression shifting just slightly. She corrects me, her voice firm. ‘There is no Mrs. Conti.’

I blink, confused.I’m confused. “So, what, the girls just got dropped off by a stork or something?”

Ms. M gives a small smile, but then says something that makes me pause. . “The truth isn’t too far off from that.”

I lean in, curious.

She leans back in her chair, her gaze distant, like she’s pulling the memory from the past. “It was a cool summer night, four years ago. Out of nowhere, there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, I found two car seats and those two little beauties upstairs. There was a note tucked inside one of the seats that read, ‘I can’t do it. Please, take care of them.’”

I am stunned as she continues.

“I brought the girls in and immediately called Mr. Conti. The moment he saw them, I could tell he knew exactly what had happened. He’d had a brief fling with a woman nearly a year prior, and she couldn’t raise them, so she left them at his door.”

I raise an eyebrow, still processing. “Was he hesitant to take them in?”

Ms. M shakes her head, a soft smile on her face. “Not even for a second. The moment he saw them, he fell in love. From that night on, they were his world.”

Ms. M’s smile falters a bit as she continues. ‘A new part of Mr. Conti was born that day, just as surely as those little girls were brought into this world—a side of him that’s loving, protective, and fiercely devoted.” She pauses, giving me a pointed look. ‘And I get the sense he’s ready to bring you into that part of his world.’

I tense, her words hitting a little too close to home. Does she know? No way, I think, trying to shake it off. But there’s something about the way she looks at me that makes me feel like she knows more than she’s letting on.

She stands up. , her calm presence filling the room. “I’ll put the girls to bed. I imagine you’ve got quite a bit to talk about with Mr. Conti.”

I glance at her, my mind spinning, but all I can manage is a quiet, “Thank you, Ms. M. Seriously.”

She smiles warmly, her usual professional demeanor softening. She smiles. “Call me Olivia.”

With that, she walks off, leaving me sitting there with a lot more questions than answers.