Page 1 of Texting My Mafia Boss

CHAPTER 1

MARA

My drunk neighbor leans against the broken fence, whiskey breath pouring into the late summer air. It’s not even midday yet. He’s an old man, capillaries burst all over his face, aiming a nicotine-stained finger at me, his watery eyes full of accusation.

“You’ll need to buy a new fence.”

Massaging the bridge of my eyebrows, I say. “I’m sorry, Gideon.” I’mnotsorry, but this strategy is often best when dealing with men.

Most of the time. “But I watched you break the fence.”

“I did no such thing.”

I grind my teeth. “We’ve been over this. Do you want to see the footage from my security camera? You were mowing the lawn at 3 AM and crashed right into it.”

His eyes cloud over.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“It’s right here…”

As I reach for my cell phone, he backs away. “Ridiculous,” he hisses. “That’s a punchline, that is.” Now he’s off on one of his rants. “I knew your aunt. She would’ve paid, believe you me.”

“My aunt was a terrible person,” I snap.

“You didn’t know her, girl!”

“That’s how I know she’s a terrible person.”

“Go on, get out in the world. Work two jobs.

If required, accept tainted funds.

I want that new fence.”

“Have a good day, Gideon,” I sigh.

I have thoughts to convey to him, yet my mood prohibits it. I’ve got an interview today, a high-paying nanny job. I need the money. I walk into the house, adjust my shirt, and take a deep breath. After a quick coffee, I get into my car – with its usual grumbling complaints, kind of like my neighbor – and begin the drive to a much nicer part of town.

My mind goes to what Gideon said about my aunt. He knew her. I didn’t. I grew up in foster homes, bouncing between potential families until I came of age, then was left to fend for myself. I was unaware of my aunt’s existence until eighteen months prior. Then a lawyer reached out and informed me she’d left me this home. Apparently, my parents had given it to her with the request that she pass it on to me one day. She ignored that request and kept it for herself.

I spent years believing I had no family, living in rodent-infested apartments, only to learn she was living it up in a three-bedroomhome. Okay, notliving it up. I still would’ve preferred not to be alone.

The Bellandi estate is intimidating. A black iron gate opens the moment I approach, a camera watching me. I laugh, shaking my head, when I see three men repairing a portion of the tall, imposing fence that surrounds the estate. Gardeners move across wide green lawns. I park next to a fountain gushing water, my car looking like a real eyesore.

The doors are tall and wide. The knockers are carved into the shape of golden lions. I jump when I notice a pair of bright, shy eyes sticking out from behind the cracked door.

“Did I scare you?” the girl says, slipping out of the small crack.

“No, no,” I tell her quickly. “I thought the door was closed.”

“Are you here for the nanny job?” The little girl has dark, inky curls, sad eyes, and a solemn expression. She seems more grown up than other kids her age.

“I told Livia I don’t need a nanny, but she says I do.”

I kneel, meeting her at eye level. “I’m sure you’re right. I bet you can take care of yourself. But see that car over there?”

She takes a few steps forward. “Yeah?”