THE MAFIA'S NANNY

Chapter 6:THE RIVAL

I woke up fired.

Not really. But it felt like it.

Lorenzo didn't come to breakfast. Maria said he left at 5 AM for "business" and left a note on the fridge in his sharp handwriting.

Zara - Don't take Sofia outside today. Stay inside. Lock doors. L.

Ominous. Why?

I took Sofia to ballet in the house - Zoom ballet because rich people do ballet at home - and we baked chin-chin. Flour everywhere. Sofia laughed with flour on her nose, my new apron covered.

At 11 AM, doorbell rang.

Maria turned white. "Mr. De Luca said no visitors. No one."

I peeped from window. Fine man outside. White suit, not black. Blond hair slicked back. Big smile. Holding red roses.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Matteo Rossi. Bad family. Enemy," Maria whispered, pulling curtains. "Don't open! He is dangerous!"

But Sofia heard bell and ran.

"Uncle Teo!" she shouted, opening door before we could stop.

Uncle? Enemy is called uncle?

Matteo picked Sofia up, spun her. "Principessa! You grew! Where is your papa? Hiding?"

Then he looked inside and saw me. Blue eyes lit up, scanning my green dress, my puffs, my hips.

"And who is this beauty? New maid? Mmm, Lorenzo finally got good taste."

I pulled Sofia back from him. "I am nanny. Who are you?"

"Matteo Rossi. Friend of the family." He smiled, but smile was snake smile. He reached without permission and touched my puff.

PAK.

I slapped his hand hard. Sound echoed in marble hallway.

House went silent. Guards froze.

"You don't touch Black girl hair without asking, sir," I said, voice shaking but loud. "We don't do that here."

Maria gasped. One guard touched his gun.

Matteo laughed, rubbing his hand, impressed.

"Feisty. I like feisty. How much does Lorenzo pay you? I pay double. Triple. Come work for me, I have bigger mansion."

"I am not for sale, sir."

He leaned close, still holding Sofia with one arm, whisper only I could hear: "Everything in Lorenzo's house is for sale, sweetheart. Especially new things he likes. And I can see he likes you. Very much."

He left flowers on table, left a card with red lipstick kiss mark, and left. Scent of strong cologne stayed.

I locked door, bolted it, heart hammering like drum. Called Lorenzo immediately.

No pick. Once, twice, three times.

I texted: Rossi was here. He touched Sofia and me.

Read instantly. Reply in 2 seconds:

LOCK EVERY DOOR. WINDOWS. I AM COMING. 15 MINUTES.

He came in 20 minutes. Motorcade screech, tires burning.

He burst inside, suit jacket torn, knuckle bleeding fresh, like he fought someone on the way here.

"Sofia!" He grabbed Sofia, checked her arms, legs, hair, face, like looking for injury.

"She fine, sir, he just-"

Then he looked at me. Checked me too, eyes wild, breathing hard.

"Did he touch you? Where? Tell me where."

"My hair, sir. Only hair. I slapped him."

He punched wall. Real hole in wall. Plaster dust fell.

"Maria! Take Sofia upstairs! Now!"

Maria ran with Sofia, scared.

Now only me and him in living room.

"You opened door," he said low, dangerous.

"Sofia opened-"

"I said no visitors! That means don't open door to anyone! Especially Rossi!"

"I didn't know he was rival! Sofia called him uncle!"

"He is not uncle! He killed Elena! The bomb was his! He killed my wife!"

Oh.

Oh God.

My legs gave up. I sat on floor.

"He killed..."

Lorenzo knelt in front of me, big hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look.

"Look at me. Zara, look at me."

I looked, tears coming now, fast.

"I failed to protect my wife. I will not fail to protect you and my daughter. Do you understand me?"

I nodded, crying.

He wiped my tears with his thumb, rough but gentle. Thumb smelled like blood and metal.

"You slapped him," he whispered. "Maria told me on phone. No one slaps Matteo Rossi and lives to talk. Do you know that?"

"I didn't know..."

"You are so brave and so stupid, little nanny."

He laughed, broken laugh, then pulled me into hug. Tight. My face in his chest, smelling cologne, blood, fear.

"You can't stay in that room anymore," he whispered into my puffs.

My heart dropped. "You are firing me? Sir, please, I need money for school, my visa-"

"No. Not firing. Moving you. To my wing. Tonight. Where I can watch you both."

Rule Two broken. By him.

"But Rule Two says don't enter your wing-"

"f**k Rule Two. f**k Rule One. f**k all rules when Rossi knows your face and your puffs."

He stood and lifted me up like I weighed nothing, like I was Sofia. Carried me upstairs.

Maria was already moving my clothes - new Zara dresses, bonnets, shea butter - to his wing. To a room opposite his bedroom. With connecting door inside.

Sofia clapped from doorway. "Mama Zara sleeps near us now! Near Papa!"

That night, 11 PM, I couldn't sleep in new room. Too big. Too close to him. I could hear shower in his room through wall.

Then knock on connecting door.

Lorenzo. Fresh white T-shirt, hair wet, holding a gun in one hand and warm milk in other.

"You didn't come for milk at 2 AM, so I brought milk to you," he said.

I let him in. He sat on edge of my bed. Gave me milk. Watched me drink.

"Zara."

"Yes, Lorenzo?"

"If Rossi comes again. If anyone comes. You run to me. Not away from me. To me. Even if I am in shower, even if I am naked, even if I am on phone with boss. You run to me."

"Okay."

He reached and fixed my bonnet that was crooked, hand lingering on my cheek, warm.

"And Rule Three..."

"Yes?"

"Forget Rule Three."

He stood, walked to connecting door, stopped, hand on frame.

"Goodnight, my girls. Both my girls safe under same roof now. I can finally sleep."

He left door open. Small crack. So he could hear if I screamed.

I drank warm milk and stared at that open crack, hearing his breathing from next room, and thought: this mafia boss just broke all his own rules for a nanny from Queens who slapped his enemy.

Amaka, if you hear this story, you will say I entered one-chance.

And you will be right.