Page 11 of Texting My Mafia Boss

“Explain.”

“Nobody injured. Nothing taken. Whoever did this, they respect us.”

“Or fear us,” I mutter. “Dante’s an idiot, but he knows what would happen if he stepped to me.”

“Well, yeah,” Mark says, laughing savagely. “No one’sthatdumb.”

I get home late, a sour taste in my mouth. I had to do some bloody business toward the end of the day. Some lowlife was selling coke on one of our garbage routes, like he thinks we’re remakingThe Sopranosor something. Apparently, he called me out by name. When they went to pick him up, he was with a Colombian woman who claimed he’d kidnapped her from a brothel. Some investigation proved that to be true. The first step was getting her to safety.

The second—a bullet to the head for the scumbag, my men watching from the shadows. A speech with blood on my hands and face so that everyone knows what happens when you cross me. I’m sick of it. But it had to be done.

I’ve showered and changed, but I still feel bleak. In no fit state to be near my daughter. She’s too pure, too innocent. She doesn’t deserve this.

Still, I can be near her, outside her door, just to… be there, for a moment.

I stop when I hear her beautiful laughter. Then another beautiful sound, Mara’s voice. It’s knowing, cocky, and confident. I suspected there was a sassy woman behind her demeanor in the gym. She looked flustered to be acting so nervous around me. I should’ve told her it’s the norm when I speak with civilians.

“Tryto sleep, Sylvie, or I’ll get in trouble. The silly nanny who couldn’t convince the princess to rest her tired bones.”

“Bones don’t get tired,” she says. “Muscles do.”

“You’re a very smart girl.”

A smile spreads across my face. I forget about the darkness for a moment.

I back away down the hallway when I hear footsteps. But something stops me from going too far. I stand in an alcove at the end, watching, waiting. I know it’s wrong. But I want to see something good, a slice of real life.

I watch as Mara steps from the room. She looks tired, but happy, a soft smile on her pretty face. Her hip-hugging jeans and a frilly shirt reminding me of a gift. One I want to unwrap.

She takes out her phone and chews on her lip as she stares at the screen. I can see the indecision written across her every feature. Is she thinking about texting a friend or her boyfriend, perhaps?

She finally makes her decision and types out a message quickly. My phone instantly goes off. Dammit. I’ve got it on loud in case Mark calls me.

I turn and quickly walk down the hallway.

“Hello?” she calls.

I ignore her, heart pounding hard for some reason.

When I’m in my bedroom, alone, I check my texts.

Mara: Sylvie asked if dragons get lonely. Isn’t that sweet?

I type out a response.

Ettore: Yes, it’s wonderful. You’re doing an amazing job.

Then I see a flash of what I did earlier, what I had to do. The life I never questioned until it was too late.

I delete my message, then react to her text with a thumbs up.

CHAPTER 5

MARA

I’m not sure why the other nannies and the moms don’t like me. Ever since I first dropped Sylvie off at her private school, I’ve noticed an atmosphere. Sour glances, little looks that make me feel about two inches small. I wonder if it’s because of my second-hand clothes. Livia is paying me weekly, but I need that cash to catch up on some bills. In a few weeks, I’ll get some nice new clothes but for now these will do.

Today, as I wait for Sylvie, I decide to test it. It’s nerve-wracking and, honestly, it bothers me. Why should I have to make the first move with these stuck-up snobs? But I’m also self-aware, at least, I’m becomingmoreself-aware. I know enough to understand my upbringing makes me prickly sometimes.