NANNY FOR THE MAFIA BOSS

CHAPTER 10: PIER 9

The gunshot echoed off the water and then everything went to hell.

The men in dark coats were moving. Two of them had guns out now. One was talking into an earpiece, calm like this happened every Tuesday.

“Boss wants her alive,” he said. “The kid too. Shoot the driver.”

Marco rolled off me and came up with his own gun. He fired twice. One of the men went down.

“Get to the car!” Marco shouted at me. “Now!”

I wasn’t going to the car.

I was looking at Vince.

He was still zip-tied. Still bleeding at the temple. But his eyes weren’t on the men with guns. They were on me.

And he was shaking his head. No. Run.

I couldn’t.

I stood up. Ria’s hand was crushed in mine. Ella was a hot weight against my chest.

“You said 48 hours,” I said, voice shaking but loud. “You said come alone. I came. So where’s Francisco?”

The man who’d spoken stepped forward. Tall. Salt-and-pepper hair. He didn’t look at Marco. He didn’t look at the man bleeding on the ground. He looked at me.

“Francisco Moretti sends his regards,” he said again. “And he wants to know if you’re willing to pay his price.”

“Price for what?”

“For Vince’s life,” he said simply. “And for your girls’ lives.”

Another shot cracked out. Marco fired back.

The man didn’t even flinch.

“Turn off the radio,” he told one of his guys.

Four minutes.

That’s all we had.

Vince was trying to stand. One of the men kicked his legs out from under him.

“Don’t touch him,” I said. It came out as a snarl.

The man smiled. “Feisty. He didn’t mention that.”

He walked closer. Stopped 10 feet from me.

“I’m Anthony,” he said. “I work for Francisco. You can call me Tony.”

“I don’t care what your name is,” I said. “What do you want?”

Tony tilted his head. “We want Vince. We want the docks back. We want the casino. We want the last 3 years of revenue with interest.”

“And if we give you that?”

“Then you and the girls walk,” he said. “New names. New country. Francisco is generous when he gets what he wants.”

He looked at Ria. She was hiding behind my leg, rabbit in a death grip.

“He especially likes little girls,” Tony said. “He has granddaughters. He says family is everything.”

My stomach turned.

“And if we don’t?”

“Then we take Vince,” Tony said. “And we take the girls. And you don’t get to choose what happens next.”

Vince made a sound. Low. Animals.

“Don’t you f*****g talk to her,” he said through his teeth.

Tony kicked him again.

“Shut up,” he said. “This is her choice now.”

Four minutes.

I could hear sirens in the distance. Faint. Getting louder.

I looked at Vince. Blood in his hair. Shirt torn. But he was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world.

Don’t, his eyes said. Don’t do it.

I looked at Ria. Tear tracks on her face. She was trying to be brave.

I looked at Ella. Eyes squeezed shut, crying.

I had to choose.

“Okay,” I said. My voice was steadier than I felt. “I’ll go with you. Alone. You let Vince and the girls go. Right now.”

Tony laughed. “No.”

“No?”

“We don’t trust you,” he said. “We need collateral. We take the girls. You come with us. Vince stays here. As a message.”

Rage went white-hot through me.

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” Tony said.

He nodded to one of his men. The man reached for Ria.

I moved before I thought.

I stepped between them. Put my body in front of Ria’s.

“Touch her and I’ll”

“You’ll what?” Tony said. “You have no gun. No backup. No time.”

He was right.

Sirens were closer now. Maybe 2 minutes.

Marco was still shooting. He’d taken down another guy. But there were still two left, and they were circling.

Vince was yelling my name.

“Ava! Ava, look at me!”

I did.

He wasn’t looking at the men. He was looking at my hands.

Specifically at my right hand.

And he was moving his own zip-tied hands in a way I recognized.

The signal we’d made up after the panic room.

2 taps. Pause. 3 taps.

Distract them.

He wanted me to distract them.

I didn’t know how.

So I lied.

“Wait,” I said to Tony. “If you want me to come willingly, you have to prove Vince is okay. Let me talk to him. 30 seconds. Alone.”

Tony considered it. “Why?”

“Because if I’m going to leave my daughters, I need to say goodbye to their father,” I said. And my voice broke for real this time. “30 seconds. Or I fight you every step.”

He looked at his watch. Then at the entrance of the pier where red and blue lights were starting to flash against the buildings.

“30 seconds,” he said. “Then we go.”

He waved his men back.

Vince was dragged forward and dumped on his knees in front of me.

The zip ties were cutting into his wrists.

“30 seconds,” Tony said. “Talk.”

I knelt in front of Vince. Ria clung to my back.

The other men stepped away. But not far. Guns still out.

Vince looked at me. Really looked.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he whispered.

“I know,” I whispered back.

“I love you,” he said. “I love Ria. I love Ella. I’m so sorry I brought this into your life.”

“Don’t,” I said, tears falling now. “Don’t apologize.”

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine.

“Listen to me,” he said, so quiet only I could hear. “When I say go, you run. You take the girls and you run to Marco. He’ll get you out.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to,” he said. “I can take whatever they do to me. I can’t take them hurting you.”

Sirens. Closer.

“Time,” Tony called.

Vince pulled back. His eyes were wet.

“On three,” he breathed. “We go.”

“What?”

“On three. Marco’s got this. Just run.”

“One,” he whispered.

I shifted, ready to grab Ria.

“Two.”

Tony started walking back toward us.

“Time’s up.”

“Three.”

Vince moved.

Fast.

He threw his shoulder into the man closest to him, knocking him off balance.

At the same time he slammed his zip-tied hands down on the concrete. Once. Twice.

The plastic cracked.

Marco fired.

Chaos.

“RUN!” Vince yelled.

I grabbed Ria and ran.

Toward Marco. Toward the car. Toward the lights.

Behind me, shouting. Gunshots.

Vince was free. He had a gun from one of the downed men. He was firing. Covering us.

We made it to the SUV. Marco threw the doors open.

“In! In!”

I shoved Ria in first, then climbed in with Ella.

Marco peeled out. Tires screaming on concrete.

In the rearview I saw Vince.

Standing. Shooting.

And then I saw Tony raise his gun.

Aimed right at Vince’s back.

“Vince!” I screamed.

The gun fired.

Vince jerked.

And went down.

“NO!”

Marco was driving, but I was already out the door before the car fully stopped.

I ran back.

Ria was screaming my name. Marco was yelling.

Vince was on the ground.

Tony was on the ground too, shot by Marco.

But Vince was bleeding. From his side. Dark and fast.

I dropped to my knees next to him.

“Hey,” he said when he saw me. Weak smile. “You ran.”

“Don’t talk,” I said, pressing my hands to his side. Blood was warm everywhere. “Don’t you dare talk.”

Paramedics were running onto the pier now.

“Help him!” I screamed at them. “Please! Help him!”

One of them knelt. Pushed me gently aside.

“Ma’am, let us work.”

Vince grabbed my hand. His grip was weak.

“Ava,” he said.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Keep them safe,” he said. “Sunday. Park.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said, sobbing now. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

His eyes were closing.

“Vince? Vince, look at me. Look at me!”

An EMT put an oxygen mask on him.

“BP’s dropping,” someone said. “We need to move.”

They lifted him onto a stretcher.

I tried to follow.

Roger, the officer from before, held me back.

“Ma’am, you need to come with us. For your statement. And the girls need to be checked.”

I looked at the ambulance doors closing.

At Ria, being held by Marco, crying.

At Ella, silent now from exhaustion.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out with bloody hands.

UNKNOWN

“You took too long. 48 hours is up.

Check your email.

We’re just getting started.

I opened my email.

One new message. No subject.

Attachment: a video.

It was our house. From this morning.

Empty.

And on the kitchen counter, in Ria’s pink glitter marker:

“We know where you’re going next.”

The video ended.

Roger was saying something about witness protection.

The ambulance was pulling away with Vince inside.

And I was standing on Pier 9 with blood on my hands and a new threat in my inbox.

We got out.

But he didn’t.