Nanny for the mafia boss

Isabella's pov

I pulled my coat tighter around my body as the cool autumn breeze swept through the busy streets of New York. The city never slept, but at this hour, as the sun began its descent, it seemed to take a breath.

I exhaled slowly, checking the address on the crumpled piece of paper in her hand.

I saw the ad two days ago-Nanny Needed for Private Household. High Pay. Discretion Required. The vague wording had intrigued her. After months of struggling with dead-end jobs and barely scraping by, I needed this.

My best friend, Camila, had warned her.

"It sounds sketchy, Isa. What kind of 'private household' needs that much discretion?"

But I didn't have the luxury to be picky. I had rent due, student loans piling up, and a sick mother back in Miami who needed medical care. High pay? That was exactly what I needed.

Now, standing in front of an elegant brownstone in an upscale neighbourhood, I hesitated. It wasn't what I expected. The place screamed money, but not in a flashy, modern way. It was old wealth, the kind that carried secrets.

I pressed the doorbell, my pulse quickening.

A moment later, the heavy wooden door swung open, revealing a tall man in a black suit. He looked her over, his expression unreadable.

The man at the door had the kind of presence that made people stop and reconsider their choices. Tall, broad-shouldered, calculating eyes, he studied me like i was an unexpected problem.

"You're here for the nanny position?" His voice was deep and smooth but held a slight edge-like he was testing her

I straightened my spine"Yes. Isabella Lopez

The man didn't introduce himself. Instead, he stepped aside, silently inviting her in. I hesitated for only a second before stepping across the threshold.

The inside of the house was even grander than I expected. High ceilings, dark wood floors,expensive furniture-everything screamed wealth and power. But there was something else, too. A heaviness in the air, as if the house itself held secrets.

"Wait here", the man instructed before disappearing down a hallway.

I exhaled slowly, glancing around. A few framed photos lined the fireplace mantel. One in particular caught her eye-a little boy, maybe four or five, with dark curls and big, expressive eyes. His face was serious, almost too serious for a child.

Before i could think too much about it, footsteps echoed through the hall.

And then he walked in.

Lorenzo Romano.

Even if I hadn't done a quick internet search. I would have known who he was. The Romano family was one of the most powerful names in New York. Business? Real estate? That was the official story. But behind closed doors, the whispers said otherwise.

He was taller than I expected, dressed in an expensive black button-down and slacks. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his chiselled jawline held a hint of stubble. But it was his eyes that stopped me. Cold. Piercing. As if he could see straight through me.

"You're the nanny?" His tone was sceptical.

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze. "I am if you hire me."

Something flickered in his eyes, amusement maybe, but it was gone before I could be sure.

"My son, Matteo, needs structure and discipline," Lorenzo said,from across the room. "I don't want someone who's just here for the paycheck.He's been through a lot."

I softened at the mention of his son 'i have experience with kids. I worked in early childhood education before moving here. I can handle discipIine, but children also need patience and kindness."

Lorenzo's expression didn't change, but I sensed he was assessing me, weighing something in his mind.

Then he spoke.

"Do you know who I am, Miss Lopez?"

My heartbeat quickened, but I kept my face neutral "I have an idea."

"And yet, you still applied?"

I met his gaze head-on. "I need the job. And your son need a nanny."

Silence stretched between them. Then, unexpectedly, Lorenzo smirked. It wasn't friendly-it was the kind of smirk that hinted at danger.

"You're either brave or stupid," he murmured.

"Maybe a little of both."

A beat of silence. Then he nodded.

"You start tomorrow."

Lorenzo's POV

I wasn't a man who second-guessed my decisions. My entire life had been built on control, power, and making choices with absolute certainty. But as I sat in my office, a glass of whiskey in hand, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that hiring Isabella Lopez might be a mistake.

She was too...bold. Too unafraid. Most people, when they realized who I was, either tried too hard to please him or ran in the opposite direction. But not her.

That kind of confidence could either be an asset or a liability.

I exhaled, glancing at the security feed on his desk. One of the cameras showed Isabella being led out by Marco, his most trusted guard. She walked with purpose, her head high, completely unaware that she had just stepped into a world she might not be able to handle.

A soft knock at the door pulled his attention.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Marco stepped inside. "She's gone."

I nodded. "What do you think?"

Marco hesitated. "She's got guts. Most women would've been shaking in their boots sitting in front of you."

I smirked. "She was nervous. She just hid it well."

Marco shrugged. "Maybe. But she didn't ask unnecessary questions, didn't pry. just focused on the job."

I leaned back in my chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "She'll need to be able to handle Matteo. He's...not easy."

Matteo. My son. The only person in the world who truly mattered to him. The boy had been through hell-losing his mother, growing up surrounded by guards, constantly aware that his father's world was dangerous.

Matteo didn't trust easily. And I couldn't blame him.

Marco crossed his arms."If she sticks around long enough, maybe she'll be good for him."

That was the real question, wasn't it? Would she stick around?

I had been through a string of nannies. Some quit after a week, unable to handle Matteo's silence and his sudden bursts of defiance. Others were dismissed when I found out they were more interested in me than the job.

But Isabella? She was different.

She didn't fawn over him. Didn't try to impress him. She only cared about the job.

I drained my glass and set it down with a decisive clink.

Tomorrow will be the real test. If Isabella Lopez thought she could handle my son, she was about to find out just how wrong she was.

The next morning, I stood by the large window in my home office, watching as Isabella arrived. She was right on time . That was a good start.

She wore a simple, fitted sweater and dark jeans, her long brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. No jewellery, no excessive makeup. Practical. Uncomplicated. The kind of woman who didn't belong in his world.

Marco opened the door for her, giving her a slight nod as she stepped inside. Her expression was caIm, but i could see the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides. Nerves.

Good. She should be nervous.

I walked out of my office just as Marco led her into the living room. I didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"Matteo is upstairs ," I said, my tone all business. "He knows you're coming, but that doesn't mean he's going to like you."

Isabella arched an eyebrow. "I don't expect him to. Trust takes time."

I studied her for a moment, then nodded toward the stairs. "Let's see if you still feel that way in an hour."

They walked up the grand staircase in silence. When they reached Matteo's room, I opened the door without knocking.

The boy sat on the floor near the window, building something with wooden blocks. His dark curls were slightly messy; his small face serious and focused. He didn't look up.

"Matteo," I said. "This is Isabella. She's your new nanny."

Nothing.

Isabella took a step closer. "Hi, Matteo."

Still nothing.

I glanced at Isabella, expecting to see frustration or impatience, but she only smiled slightly before kneeling a few feet away. She didn't push, didn't force him to speak. She just sat there, watching him build.

Matteo placed another block on top of the tower, his fingers precise. Then, without warning, he swiped his hand through the structure, knocking it all down.

Isabella didn't flinch.

"Do you want to build it again?" she asked softly.

Matteo finally looked at her, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable. "No."

I felt the tension in the room shift. Matteo rarely spoke to new people, and when he did, it was usually to tell them to leave.

But Isabella didn't leave. She didn't fill the silence with empty words or try to force conversation. She just nodded.

"Okay."

Matteo studied her for a long moment, then turned back to his blocks. He didn't dismiss her.

I crossed my arms, watching the silent exchange. I had seen dozens of nannies try and fail to get through to Matteo. But this-this was different.

Maybe she really could handle him.

Or maybe she just hadn't seen the worst of him yet.

I turned to leave, but before I reached the door, I heard Matteo's small voice behind me.

"Are you going to leave too?"

I froze.

The question wasn't meant for me. It was for Isabella.

I turned just enough to see her reaction. She hesitated, just for a second, then met Matteo's gaze with quiet determination.

"No," she said softly. "I'm not."

Matteo stared at her, his small hands gripping a wooden block. His face was unreadable, but I could see the conflict in his eyes.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt something dangerous.

Hope.

But I knew better than to trust it.

Because in my world, people didn't stay. And if Isabella Lopez was smart, she would leave before she got too close.

Before she realized the kind of man I really was.

Before it was too late.

Isabella's POV

The silence in the house was suffocating.

I had worked with children before, restless toddlers, stubborn preschoolers, and even kids who refused to listen. But Matteo Romano was different. He wasn't just distant; he was guarded, like a child who had learned that getting attached meant getting hurt.

After their brief interaction that morning, he hadn't spoken another word. Instead, he spent hours sitting by the window, staring at nothing.

I sighed, glancing at the time. Almost noon.

"Matteo," I called softly, "are you hungry?"

No response.

I walked closer but kept my distance. "I was thinking of making some grilled cheese. Or maybe pancakes for lunch?"

Matteo didn't move, didn't even acknowledge my presence.

I pressed my lips together, fighting the frustration building inside me. This wasn't going to be easy, but I hadn't expected it to be.

Before i could say anything else, the door swung open.

Lorenzo.

He filled the room effortlessly, his presence commanding as always. He wasn't dressed in a suit today, just a black sweater and dark jeans, but somehow, he still looked every bit the powerful man he was.

He took one look at Matteo and sighed. "He hasn't eaten?"

I crossed my arms. "I've tried."

Lorenzo walked over to Matteo and crouched beside him. "Matteo, you need to eat."

The boy tensed but still didn't speak.

Lorenzo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before standing again. He turned to me, his expression unreadable. "Come with me."

I frowned. "What?"

"Now."

I hesitated, glancing at Matteo, but the boy didn't even blink at their exchange.

With a sigh, I followed Lorenzo out of the room and down the hall. He didn't speak until they were downstairs in the kitchen.

"I don't have time for games," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you can't get him to listen, tell me now."

I narrowed my eyes. "He's not an employee, Lorenzo. He's a child. A grieving child."

His jaw tightened. "I know that."

"Do you?" I shot back. "Because right now, he's sitting in that room alone while you throw orders at him like he's supposed to snap out of it."

A tense silence settled between them.

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but I didn't take them back. Someone had to say it.

Lorenzo exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "You think I don't care?"

"I don't know what to think," I admitted. "But Matteo needs patience, not just commands. If you want me to help him, you need to let me do it my way."

Lorenzo studied her, his gaze unreadable.

Finally, he nodded. "Fine. But if you ever speak to me like that again, Isabella, we're going to have a problem."

My heart pounded, but I held my ground. "Duly noted."

A flicker of something-amusement?-crossed his face, but it was gone before I could be sure.

Then, before I could process what had just happened, a loud crash echoed from upstairs.

Lorenzo's head snapped toward the sound, his entire body going rigid.

My stomach twisted.

Matteo.

Without thinking, they both ran toward the stairs