The mafia don’s obsession

Chapter 2: The contract

It had been just over a week after I first arrived at the Flynn estate as Amy’s nanny. The little girl was still wary of me, clinging to her routines and barely speaking.

I’d spent the morning chasing her around the vast gardens, trying to coax a smile from her serious little face, when I first saw him.

Matteo Flynn stood in the middle of the training yard behind the main house like a king surveying his domain.

The sun glinted off his black hair, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the broad set of his shoulders beneath a fitted black shirt.

He wasn’t alone. Half a dozen of his men circled him, sparring under his watchful eye.

One punch sent a burly guard staggering back. Another fluid kick dropped a second man to the dirt.

I should have looked away. Staff members weren’t supposed to stare at the Don.

But something about the controlled power in his body, the way sweat made his shirt cling to the hard planes of his chest, rooted me in place behind the hedge.

Then he turned. Our eyes met across the yard for the briefest second. His gaze was dark, intense, like he could see straight through me to the secrets I kept buried like the reasons I’d taken this job in the first place.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he looked away, barking an order at his men.

That night, I’d dreamed of him. Dangerous, foolish dreams.

I told myself it meant nothing. He was married and I was his daughter’s nanny. Either way, men like Matteo Flynn didn’t notice women like me. I was a staff member, I was invisible.

Or so I thought.

Back in the present, the medical room door clicked open. One of the underbosses stepped in, eyes flicking between me and his unconscious Don.

“You saved his life,” he grunted. “Boss will want to see you when he wakes. Don’t go far.”

As if I could.

I nodded numbly and slipped out, legs still unsteady. The estate felt different now—every shadow heavier and every guard’s glance sharper.

I made my way back to the nursery wing on autopilot, checking on a now-sleeping Amy before collapsing into my small attached room.

Sleep didn’t come easy. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Matteo’s weight pinning me down, the burning stretch of him inside me, the desperate growl in his voice.

By morning, rumors had already spread through the staff. The Don had survived an assassination attempt. The new nanny had been the one to patch him up.

I was no longer invisible.

Two days passed before he summoned me. I was reading to Amy in the sunlit library when two armed men appeared at the door.

“Don Flynn wants to see you. Now.”

My stomach twisted as they escorted me through the mansion, past heavy oak doors and into his private study.

Matteo sat behind a massive desk, looking far too composed for a man who’d been shot and half-dead just days ago.

Fresh stitches peeked from the open collar of his black shirt. His dark eyes locked onto me the moment I entered.

“Elodie,” he said, voice low and smooth, like aged whiskey. “Sit.”

I remained standing, fists clenched at my sides. “With all due respect, Don Flynn… what happened in the med room—”

“Was inevitable,” he cut in, leaning back in his chair. A faint wince betrayed the pain he was hiding. “You saved my life. And in doing so, you stepped into my world. There’s no going back from that.”

He slid a folder across the desk toward me. Inside were documents—cleaned bank accounts, a new identity trail, and a contract.

A marriage contract.

My breath caught. “You can’t be serious.”

His gaze darkened, the same hunger from that night flickering beneath the surface.

“You’re mine now, Elodie. The rivals already know your face. The only way to keep you and Amy safe is under my name. Sign it, and I’ll give you everything. Fight me… and I’ll still keep you. But it won’t be as pleasant.”

I stared at him, heart racing. The man who had taken me in a fevered haze was now coldly offering me a cage wrapped in protection.

Yet beneath the fear, that same treacherous spark from the yard, from the med room, flickered to life.

Matteo Flynn didn’t wait for an answer. He rose slowly, rounded the desk, and stopped inches from me. His fingers brushed my jaw, tilting my face up.

“Think carefully, little nurse,” he murmured, his breath warm against my lips. “Because the next time I have you, it won’t be delirium. It’ll be wide awake… and you’ll be begging for it.”

Matteo’s fingers lingered on my jaw for a heartbeat longer, his thumb brushing my lower lip like a dark promise.

Then he stepped back, the heat of him vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the study, his movements still slightly stiff from the healing wound.

The door clicked shut behind him with quiet finality, leaving me alone in the heavy silence.

I stood there, utterly shocked, the folder with the marriage contract still open on the desk like a loaded gun.

My legs felt weak. I sank into the nearest chair, heart hammering so loudly I was sure the guards outside could hear it.

What the hell was going on?

This couldn’t be real. One moment I was the new nanny trying to keep a little girl safe, the next I was being claimed—taken—by the Don himself in a blood-soaked medical bed while he hovered between life and death.

And now this? A contract? Marriage?

I pressed trembling fingers to my lips, still feeling the ghost of his touch. He was married. And his wife, Camila was a ‘no nonsense woman’.

I hadn’t met her yet because she had been on a business trip a few days before I arrived.

The staff spoke of her in hushed, respectful tones. They said she was beautiful, ruthless, the perfect queen to Matteo’s empire.

She handled the legitimate side of the family businesses with an iron fist, while he ruled the shadows. They were a power couple.

A legend. And I… I was the nanny who had just been f****d by her husband while he bled out on a medical table.