THE DON'S NANNY

What She Awakened

VINCENZO.

I woke up with my head pounding like someone had taken a hammer to my skull and forgotten to stop. The light filtering through the tall windows didn’t help. It sliced into my eyes, sharp and unforgiving. I groaned and turned my face onto the pillow, only to realize I wasn’t in my own bed.

That realization came slowly, dragged out by the fog in my mind.

The sheets were too smooth. The room smelled faintly of leather and clean linen, not the familiar scent of my apartment. I forced my eyes open again and scanned the room, taking note of the dark furniture, the neutral colors and the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, slowly realizing that I was in my suite.

I frowned.

“How the hell did I get here?” I muttered, my voice rough and dry.

I pushed myself up slightly, only to regret it immediately. The room spun, and my stomach lurched. I dropped back onto the bed and pressed a hand to my forehead. The previous night came back in flashes—music pounding through my chest, glasses clinking, bodies packed too close together. Laughter. Too much laughter.

And then… her.

Before I could hold onto the thought, the door opened.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Nico,” I said, without lifting my head. “Sleeping beauty, really?”

He walked in like he owned the place, which, in many ways, he did. Nico had been at my side longer than anyone else. He was family, whether either of us said it out loud or not. I heard him set something down—papers, by the sound of it—before pulling a chair closer to the bed.

“You know,” he continued, amused, “most men your age don’t drink like they’re trying to forget their own name.”

I cracked one eye open and glared at him. “If you’re here to lecture me, leave.”

He chuckled. “Relax. I’m here because I had to carry your impressive self out of the club last night. You went completely dead weight.”

That got my attention. I slowly sat up, bracing myself with my arms. “You carried me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said. “I dragged you. You owe me a new shoulder.”

I let out a quiet breath and rubbed my temples. “Thanks,” I said after a moment. It wasn’t something I said often, but Nico understood the weight of it.

He nodded once, accepting it, then stood and picked up the stack of documents from the table. “Now that you’re awake, we have work to do.”

Of course we did.

Nico began laying the papers out in neat piles, his voice shifting into business mode. He talked about shipments that needed approval, meetings that couldn’t be postponed, disputes that required my signature—or my presence. Names and numbers filled the air.

Normally, I would have been sharp, focused. Every detail would have landed exactly where it should. But my mind wasn’t there. It drifted, uninvited, back to the club.

Back to her.

I couldn’t remember her face. That bothered me more than it should have. I could recall her voice, low and steady against the noise, and the way she moved like she wasn’t trying to be noticed. I remembered the warmth of her skin under my fingers, the way she didn’t pull away when I got too close.

What stayed with me the most, though, was the scar—the faint line at the back of her neck.

I had felt it before I saw it, my thumb brushing over the raised skin by accident. She had stiffened for half a second, then relaxed like she had made a decision not to care. That moment had hit me harder than the alcohol ever could.

It wasn’t delicate. It wasn’t hidden.

It was real.

The memory tightened something in my chest, and I hated that it did. I had spent years building walls inside myself, brick by brick, making sure nothing unnecessary got through. Feelings were distractions, and attachments were weaknesses. And yet, one nameless woman had slipped through the cracks without even trying.

“The Verona deal needs your approval by noon,” Nico said, snapping his fingers once.

I blinked and looked at him. “What?”

He raised a brow. “You with me, boss?”

I straightened, forcing my thoughts back into place. “Yes. Continue.”

But even as he spoke, the image lingered. The way her breath had caught when I touched her neck. The way she hadn’t asked my name, and I hadn’t asked hers. There had been no expectations between us, except for just heat and instinct. It had been intense, too intense. That was the problem.

I leaned back against the headboard, jaw tightening. The idea that a stranger could affect me like that made my skin crawl. I didn’t allow that kind of power over me. Ever.

“Vincenzo,” Nico said slowly, watching me now. “You’re somewhere else.”

I shot him a look. “Careful.”

He held up a hand. “I’m just saying—whatever it is that’s going on in your mind has got you distant.”

I said nothing.

Nico studied me for a moment longer, then shook his head and gathered the papers back into one stack. “I’ll give you an hour. Shower. Clear your head. Then we meet.”

He turned toward the door but paused. “For what it’s worth, she must’ve been something.”

My gaze snapped at him. “You saw her?”

He smirked. “Not really. But then you weren’t like this before you left for the club yesterday, no? Which means whatever or whoever it is you’re thinking about must be woman-related.”

Before I could respond, he left.

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat there, staring at the floor. My hands clenched slowly into fists. Whatever she had stirred inside me was dangerous. I didn’t like not understanding myself. I didn’t like losing control.

And I didn’t like that I wanted to find her, not because I needed her but because I needed to erase what she’d awakened.

I stood and walked toward the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror along the way. There were dark circles under my eyes, my jaw set too tight. I was a man who ruled through order and fear, had no room for distractions.

I turned on the shower, letting the cold water hit my skin, grounding me.

“She’s nothing,” I said aloud.

But even as the water washed over me, I knew that wasn’t true. She was a problem, and I intended to find her—if only to remind myself that nothing, and no one, was allowed to unsettle me and walk away untouched.