Once His Contract Bride, Now His Hired Nanny

CHAPTER 12: The Betrayer

The news came on a quiet morning, the kind that should have been safe.

Elena was in the garden, sitting under a lemon tree with a book open and her hand resting absently on her stomach. At ten weeks, there was nothing to show yet, but she liked to imagine the baby listening when she read.

Rosa slid the terrace door open, face tighter than usual. “The boss needs you in his office,” she said. “Now.”

Her tone made the hairs on Elena’s arms rise. “Did something happen?”

“Something is always happening,” Rosa muttered. “This time, it concerns you. Go.”

Matteo’s office felt colder than the air outside.

He stood by the window, hands in his pockets, shoulders rigid. Donatella sat on the sofa, legs crossed, eyes sharp as glass. On the coffee table lay a folder.

Elena’s pulse jumped. “What is it?”

“Sit,” he said.

She didn’t. “You’re scaring me. Just tell me.”

He turned slowly. His face was controlled, but his eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them.

“We found the leak,” he said. “The one feeding information to Il Corvo.”

“Who?” Her voice came out thin.

Donatella picked up the folder, flipped it open, and fanned out photographs. “We intercepted these last night,” she said. “Copies of house plans. Guard rotations. Names.”

Elena stepped closer.

Her heart stopped.

On top of the pile, in crisp black and white, was a photocopy of her ID. Her old address. Her teaching credentials.

And beneath it, a photo of her at the market two days ago, buying fruit with a guard hovering discreetly behind.

“What is this?” she whispered.

“Someone inside used you as a route,” Donatella said. “Your schedule. Your escorts. Your habits. Routine is leverage.”

“I don’t– I never—” Elena’s throat closed. “You know I haven’t spoken to anyone—”

“We know,” Matteo cut in. “This isn’t you betraying me. This is someone using you as bait.”

He dropped another photo onto the table.

One of his own men. Dark hair. Easy smile. The guard who’d joked with her about the sea breeze last week.

“Enzo,” she breathed. “He… he walks me to the garden.”

“He also walks your guards to the bar after their shifts and talks too much,” Donatella said coolly. “We traced payments from one of Il Corvo’s shell companies to his cousin. Sloppy work.”

Elena’s stomach churned. “So… what now?”

“Now,” Matteo said, “we remove the bait from the hook.”

He said it too calmly.

“Remove me,” she translated. “You mean send me away.”

“Yes.”

The word landed like a slap.

“You promised to protect me,” she said, the rush of panic sharpening her tone. “You said—”

“And I am,” he snapped, then forced his voice lower. “Elena, listen. This house is compromised. Until I cut out every rotten piece, you are not safe here. Neither is the baby.”

Her hand flew to her stomach. “So we go somewhere else. Together. You have other houses—”

“This war doesn’t follow houses,” Donatella said quietly. “It follows him. As long as you stand next to Matteo, every bullet with his name on it has yours scribbled underneath.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Elena shot back. “We’re a family—”

“Families survive by making ugly choices,” Donatella replied. “Your ugly choice is that you go. His ugly choice is that he stays.”

Elena turned to Matteo, heart pounding. “Tell her no. Tell her we’re not doing this.”

His jaw clenched.

“Matteo,” she whispered. “Please.”

He closed the distance in two strides, hands gripping her shoulders.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

“Then believe me when I say this is the only way to keep you alive right now,” he said hoarsely. “Il Corvo knows you exist. He knows you’re my weakness. If he can’t reach me, he’ll reach for you.”

“I won’t be used to hurt you,” she said fiercely.

“And I won’t let you be a shield,” he retorted. “I am not my enemies.”

Tears blurred her vision. “Where would I even go?”

Donatella answered. “Another city. New papers. A small apartment with ugly curtains. You’ll hate it for a while. Then you’ll breathe easier. You will be… invisible.”

“Invisible,” Elena repeated, numb. “You want me to disappear.”

“I want you to live,” Matteo said.

His hands slid down, one coming to rest over hers on her belly.

“You’re not just you anymore,” he murmured. “You’re both of you. Every decision I make has to remember that.”

Something in his eyes told her he’d already decided.

And that broke her heart.

Hate him but understand him at the same time.