The Nanny Affair

CHAPTER 14

Matteo's pov

The ambulance screeched to a halt outside the hospital entrance, lights bouncing off the glass walls. My hands tightened around Sophia’s small fingers, my pulse thundering in my ears. One hand clutched the car door handle, the other held hers, keeping her close, anchoring her to me while everything else spun.

“Papa?” Sophia’s voice wavered, small and uncertain. She looked up at me with wide eyes, sensing the urgency in the air.

“I’ve got you, principessa. Don’t let go,” I said, forcing steadiness into my voice, though every fiber of me was screaming.

Two paramedics emerged, carefully lifting Emily onto the stretcher. Her face was pale, lips slightly parted, eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow, and though I knew nothing for certain, the tension coiling in my chest told me this was serious.

I followed close, keeping Sophia close to my side as the paramedics wheeled Emily inside. The doors slid open, and we moved into the bright hospital corridor. Nurses and doctors brushed past, their movements precise and urgent. My eyes never left Emily’s face, memorizing the curve of her jaw, the soft line of her closed lips.

“Sir, this is as far as you can go,” a nurse said, gently but firmly.

I froze for half a second before nodding, my chest tightening. “I understand.”

“Stay here, sir. We’ll call you when the surgery is done.”

I felt a flash of helplessness. I wanted to argue, wanted to push past, but I knew that wasn’t allowed. So instead, I turned and guided Sophia to the small waiting area, settling her onto a chair. She rested her head against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her tiny heartbeat, trying to anchor myself in this fragile moment.

My mind raced, running through every second of the day. The amusement park, the Ferris wheel, the way her face had gone pale in my arms, how I had felt powerless to stop it. And now she was in surgery. My Emily, the woman who had slipped into my life so quietly, yet who had claimed more of me than I ever expected, was vulnerable, under someone else’s hands, and there was nothing I could do.

“Papa… is she going to be okay?” Sophia’s voice was small, trembling.

I drew in a deep breath, forcing my jaw to unclench. “Yes. Yes, principessa. The doctors are the best. They’ll take care of her. I promise.” My voice sounded far weaker than I wanted. She mustn’t see how badly my chest was tightening, how fear had rooted itself there.

I paced the waiting room, back and forth, each step a silent prayer. Minutes stretched into an eternity. I kept checking the clock, counting the seconds, willing them to pass faster, willing Emily to wake up, willing her to be okay. My mind replayed every laugh, every touch, every moment I’d spent with her since she’d entered this house, her stubborn little grin, the way she calmed Sophia, the way she made even my controlled, ordered life feel like it had color.

The waiting room was quiet except for the occasional shuffle of nurses and distant beeps from monitors somewhere behind the double doors. Sophia shifted in my lap, her small body tense. I tightened my hold, whispering reassurances I barely believed myself.

I thought about the ambulance ride, how she had fainted in my arms, how I had felt her go limp and powerless. I had gritted my teeth and told myself to be strong for her and for Sophia. But now, here, in the sterile quiet of the hospital, the truth was undeniable: I was terrified. Terrified of losing her before I even had the chance to know what she truly meant to me.

My chest tightened, my hands curling into fists. Acute. The word slammed into me with the force of a physical blow. I had known she was in pain, had seen it, but the thought that she might have a condition that needed immediate surgery… I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe.

Minutes later felt like hours. Every sound from the hallway.footsteps, a door sliding open made me jump, hope surging and crashing like waves. I glanced at Sophia, who clung to my arm, trying to smile, trying to be brave. I held her tighter. Stay strong for her, I reminded myself. Stay strong until Emily comes back.

The nurse emerged, her expression professional but tinged with concern. My pulse hit a sprint.

“Mr. Rinaldi?” she asked, eyes flicking between me and Sophia.

“Yes,” I said, voice tight.

“She’s stable. Surgery is ongoing. The doctor will update you in person as soon as possible. There’s nothing else you can do right now but wait.”

I nodded, barely hearing her. My eyes had already shifted to the doors. Every second I wasn’t in there felt like a betrayal, but I had to stay with Sophia. I had to keep her safe, keep her calm, keep her steady, even as I felt utterly unsteady myself.

I sank into a chair, Sophia’s head in my lap, fingers running through her hair. I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining Emily’s face the way it softened when she looked at Sophia, the way it had caught my breath when she looked at me earlier that day. I tried to channel that warmth into patience, even as fear clawed at every corner of my mind.

The next few hours passed in agonizingly slow beats. I paced, I whispered to Sophia, I stared at the closed doors. I thought about what I would say when Emily finally emerged, when I could hold her again. I thought about the danger she had unknowingly put herself into, the way she carried her burdens silently, the way she had never once asked for help, the way she had never wanted to be a problem.

And I realized, with a cold clarity, that she was never going to be just someone who worked in my house, or someone I simply watched over. She had become the axis around which my world spun, the center of a storm I didn’t know I could survive without her.

The waiting was unbearable. But I had to endure it. For Emily. For Sophia. For the fragile, precious moments of normalcy that hinged on her returning.

Every time a door opened, my heart jumped. Every shadow in the corridor made my pulse spike. And every second that passed without a word made me ache for her presence, for her safety, for the certainty that I could not grant myself.

Because right now, there was nothing I could do except wait. And hope.

The ring of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts. Unknown number.

I didn’t think much of it as I picked it up.

“Come posso aiutarla?” I asked calmly.

How can I help you.

A low chuckle rolled through the speaker. “Always straight to business. Good to know you haven’t changed.”

My chest tightened. That voice.

Impossible.

“No… it can’t be,” I muttered, staring at nothing, shock freezing me in place.

“I know you saw the picture. Stop pretending, Matteo,” the voice said, amusement dripping into something darker.

“Caleb,” I whispered.

“Ding ding ding.” His laugh was cold. “I’m back. Time to finish what I started five years ago.”

My grip on the phone tightened. “You don’t have to do this. You’ve spent years making my life hell. We can move on. Let’s not drag a misunderstanding from college into the present.”

“A misunderstanding?” he repeated, scoffing. “If that helps you sleep at night, sure. But misunderstandings don’t erase what you did. And they don’t erase what I lost.”

His tone shifted, turning sharp with old wounds.

“I won’t rest until you feel every second of what I felt. Until everything you care about falls apart right in front of you.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Caleb,” I said quietly.

“Oh, it does.”

There was a rustle on the other end, then a chilling softness.

“You take care of yourself, Matteo. I wouldn’t want anything happening to little princess Sophia.”

My heart dropped.

“And do send Emily my warmest regards,” he added mockingly. “Catch you later.”

The line went dead.

I sank into the nearest seat, frustration knotting in my chest. One phone call one name and the past I had fought to bury clawed its way back to the surface.

Funny how a single night, a single mistake, can destroy the rest of your life.

I would take whatever retribution he thought I owed. If suffering was what it would take to keep Emily and Sophia safe, I would accept it without hesitation.

But knowing Caleb… hurting me directly would never be enough.

He would go for them.

That fear settled heavily in my stomach.

I wished I had never gotten into the car that night.

Sometimes I can still hear the chaos.

The screech of tires.

The ringing in my ears that wouldn’t stop.

The moment everything changed.