The Mafia's Feisty Nanny

Guns

I was seated in Alexander's black exotic Mercedes Benz, the air thick with the scent of him—rich and expensive. He was driving, dressed in black pants and a gray button-down shirt, looking effortlessly good as always. Everything about him screamed sexy, even the way he handled the steering wheel was… distracting. I promised myself I wasn’t a simp, but it was almost painful to look at him. Realizing I was staring, I quickly turned away.

The silence in the car was thick and uncomfortable for me, though Alexander seemed perfectly fine with it. We were heading to my apartment, and I didn’t even have to give him the address—he already knew it.

After a while, I broke the silence. “I haven’t heard you mention your wife. Is she around? Maybe at work?”

His jaw tightened, and he responded coldly, “She’s dead.”

I gasped, not expecting that. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he replied, his tone flat.

“When did she die?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Three years and six months ago,” he answered, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Oh... How did she die?” I asked, before thinking better of it.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he snapped, “I would appreciate it if you minded your business, Rose. Your business is Zane, and nothing else.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling guilty for pushing him. He was right, I should just stick to what was expected of me.

The rest of the drive passed in silence.

Twenty minutes later, the car came to a stop in front of a six-story building painted all white. We got out of the car and made our way to the elevator.

“What floor?” Alexander asked.

“Fifth,” I replied.

A few minutes later, we stood in front of my apartment—well, what was left of it. I reached for the door, but something felt off. It was already open. Alexander saw this, and before I could do anything, he quickly stepped in front of me.

Alexander pulled me away from the door. “Stay behind me,” he whispered.

I watched him open the door and step into the room. When I followed, my heart sank. I didn’t recognize my apartment—everything was destroyed. My chairs, television, counters—everything was upended. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I shot him a glare. What kind of question was that? Of course, I wasn’t okay. My apartment was wrecked.

I was about to speak when a noise from my bedroom caught my attention. “Someone else is here. Stay behind me, Rose,” Alexander said, his hand sliding to the back of his pants as he pulled out a gun.

I froze, stunned. A gun? How did he even have that? Wait, this was America, everyone had a gun, but what the hell was he doing with a gun?

Before I could react, two bulky men emerged from my room. I recognized them instantly—they were Jace’s boys, his so-called "guard dogs."

“Oh, look who we have here. Jace’s w***e,” one of them sneered, flashing his golden teeth. “You’ve been hard to find, Rosy. Come back home. Jace misses you.”

I took a step back as he licked his lips.

“Take another step and I’ll make sure you never use your leg again,” Alexander growled, his voice low and menacing.

The men turned to look at him as if they were just noticing him. “Ah, Rosy got a new man. A pretty boy, but I’m afraid…” The man didn’t even finish his sentence before Alexander shot him twice in the leg.

“I told you not to move,” Alexander said coldly.

Gunfire erupted in the room as chaos broke loose. Bullets flew, and I could barely process what was happening. All I knew was that Alexander was pulling me around, guiding me through the madness. Just when I thought it might calm down, another man appeared from the hallway, firing shots at us.

Suddenly, pain exploded in my head as a hand grabbed a handful of my hair in a deadly grip. I screamed, struggling to break free, but he was too strong. My heart pounded in my chest as I fought to pull away. Alexander’s eyes met mine for a split second, and for a fleeting moment, I thought he was going to shoot me. But then, the man behind me collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud, blood splattering across my face as his head was blown into pieces. I stood frozen, staring at the headless body, my mind in complete shock.

“Get your s**t together, Rose,” Alexander snapped, pulling me away from the chaos. Two of the men were dead, and the third was… I had no idea. There was no more gunfire, but we were running. We stopped in front of the elevator, waiting for it to open.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Alexander’s voice was low, but there was genuine concern in his eyes as they roamed over me.

“No, it’s not my blood,” I managed to choke out. I looked at him, but he was so calm. He looked like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just killed a man in front of me.

He changed the magazine in his gun with practiced ease, and my heart skipped a beat. “Are you a cop?” I couldn’t help but ask, my voice trembling.

Alexander chuckled darkly, his amusement laced with something colder. “Do I look like a cop?" After a few seconds, he continued, "I’m the Don of the California mafia cartel,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

My head spun. I could barely process what he just said. Out of all the people I could’ve crossed paths with, I had to end up in the middle of a mafia war. Could my life get any worse?

The elevator suddenly jerked, shaking violently, and the lights flickered before turning red. My stomach dropped.

“f**k! That bastard cut off the electricity. Now the elevator’s stuck,” Alexander cursed, his voice tinged with anger.

My chest tightened. Panic clawed at my throat as I felt the walls of the small space close in on me. My heart raced, my breath shallow. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my hands started shaking uncontrollably. Reflex kicked in, and I began slamming my fists against the door, screaming and banging for help.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Alexander’s voice was sharp, and before I could react, he pulled me toward him, away from the door.

“C...clau...laustrophobia,” I gasped, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts. I could feel my chest tightening, my vision blurring. I was suffocating.