The Mafia's Nanny (SPG)

MARIMAR OQUENDO'S POINT OF VIEW

His hands found me before I could fill my lungs. Warmth spread from his broad palms, which spanned the full curve of my breasts. "W-Wait, Levi!" I gasped, the sound snagged in my throat as fabric shifted and tore away. Cool air pricked my skin the instant my chest was bare; my nipples tightened, hard and sensitive against the sudden chill.

His blue eyes widened, bright with the wonder of a child, and he clapped once-sharp, clean as a snap of twigs.

"Yay! Cocomelon!" He reached for me again, his touch light as he squeezed and lifted. Soft flesh jiggled beneath his fingers, and heat bloomed low in my belly.

I bit my lip, watching him hover above me. I was propped against the headboard, pillows digging into the small of my back, while his frame-lean and solid as carved stone-blocked out the lamplight. Questions spun through my mind, fast and sharp as broken glass: What have I signed up for? How do I always land in these places? Is this really the work that will put food on my family's table?

A gasp tore from me when his mouth closed around one nipple. His tongue swirled slow and warm, then a light nip made me flinch. His eyes stayed locked on mine the whole time, as if every flicker of my eyelashes, every tight line in my jaw, was a lesson he needed to memorize.

"Yummy?" he mumbled, his breath hot against wet skin between licks.

Good heavens, Lord. The thought settled heavy in my chest. Is it right to feel this way-aroused by the man I'm paid to care for? A man whose mind lives in a place I can never reach?

"Ahh-w-wait, Levi!" My voice came thin as paper, but he did not pause. His lips held fast, his gaze never breaking.

I let him. Better this than the screaming, the flying objects, the hours spent calming him when he did not get what he wanted. And god, it felt good-even as shame coiled sharp as a thorn in my gut. I was his nanny. That was all I was supposed to be.

"Milk! I want milk! Mommy's milk." He pulled back, his eyes big and wet at the corners like a puppy denied its favorite treat.

I pressed my teeth harder into my lip, tasting copper on my tongue. Why does he have to look at me like that? Why does his handsomeness make this harder than it already is?

"T-There's no milk, b-baby," I panted, my chest rising and falling in quick, shallow waves.

Sir Psikh would flay me alive if he heard his brother call me that. Would they lock me away? Accuse me of taking advantage?

"But I want your milk!" His voice sharpened with frustration, tears spilling over his cheeks. I cursed under my breath, swiping at my own damp forehead.

How can I give him something my body cannot make? I have never carried a child-never even come close.

I was still wrestling with the thought when his hands slid down my sides, warm and firm against my thighs. I swore as he lifted my legs, folding them gently but firmly against my chest.

"Hey! Levi, stop-please, this is not a game!" I reached for him, fingers tangling in his long hair, trying to pull him back.

"Milk! It's wet! It's milk-mommy's milk! Hehe!" He laughed, bright and unselfconscious, staring down at where my legs were pressed together.

"That is not milk-ahh! Ummph! W-wait-!"

His fingers found the waistband of my panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. Then his lips and tongue were on me, hot and soft and sure, and every muscle in my body went loose as honey. I gave in, letting the sensation wash over me-sweet and deep and wrong.

Where did I lose my way? They said "house helper"-not caring for a man who looks like a dream but thinks like a little boy.

"You're mine, nanny" he murmured against my skin.

-

And so this became my life. I was nanny to the youngest son of a dead tycoon-Levi, whose mind was broken in a way no doctor could fix, they said.

No one guessed he would ever be whole again. When he woke up clear-eyed and sharp, I ran. I fled from shame, from the way he had looked at me like he knew every secret I had tried to hide. I took the life growing inside me-the price of every moment I had let myself give in-and I ran as far as I could.

I tried to forget I had ever been his nanny.

LEV DMITRI ROMANOV'S POINT OF VIEW

The air here tastes like rain and diesel-same as it did the last time I stood on this soil. How many years have passed? How long since I watched her face crumple, tears cutting through dust on her cheeks as she ran from me?

I cannot count the days. They blurred together while I worked for my father, side by side with my brother Psikh. We were tools-sharp, cold, made to cut through anything that stood in our family's way. I became exactly what they wanted me to be, just to prove I was worth keeping.

When I woke up-when the fog in my head finally burned away-the first thing I saw was her. She was beneath me, her skin slick with sweat, her mouth open as she moaned my name. I did not understand every piece of what was happening, but I knew I could not stop. I pushed into her, and the feeling of her around me was so intense it felt like coming home.

"Confirmed, Boss Dmitri. The new hire is Marimar Oquendo."

My jaw tightened, teeth grinding together. I had thought I was seeing ghosts-watching her move through my bar in a silk dress that clung to every curve I had spent years trying to forget. But there she was, pouring drinks, her hands steady as she smiled at customers. The woman who had held me together and then vanished the moment I could stand on my own.

"Good. Triple her pay this month." I ended the call without waiting for a reply, my fingers wrapping around the glass in front of me.

I tracked her across the room-how she tucks her hair behind her ear when she is focused, how her hips shift when she leans over the bar. Every line of her body was etched in my memory, but seeing her in the flesh made my blood run hot.

She was right there. I could walk over and say her name. But I will not.

A smirk touched my lips as I tipped the glass back, letting liquor burn down my throat. "Hide well, mi amor."

You can start over and run free. You can find another man and pretend that the two of you are meant to be, Marimar.

But once I return and our paths cross again, you will not escape my leash a second time, mi amor.

Since the very moment I tasted your blood and innocence, you have been mine-mine and mine alone.

And you cannot hide the fact that you once were this ruthless and merciless mafia's nanny.

"You were always mine," I whispered to the empty air.

Marimar Oquendo's Point Of View

"You shameless bastard! You good-for-nothing man! Get out of here! Leave!"

What was that racket? It was still so early, but it sounded like my alarm clock had been replaced by a shouting match. Were the neighbors at it again? Why was someone throwing a fit this time?

"You animal! You brute! Worthless freeloader-you bastard! You actually went chasing after another woman! You've never had any decency at all!"

I stretched, fighting off sleep. The shouting didn't sound like it was coming from next door; instead, I recognized the voice of someone who lived in our house.

"Please forgive me, Crisma. That woman meant nothing-I'll always come home to you. Come on, please let me make it up to you."

I let out a soft laugh at what I heard. Why did I stay up late watching soap operas when there was live drama right here under this roof? It was like listening to a radio play.

"Forgive you? You want me to forgive a brute like you?" I shook my head to myself. Please don't be weak again, Aunt Cris. "If you want my forgiveness, come here. Step closer so I can cut off your balls-then you won't be able to use them anymore, since they're always itching for trouble!"

I shot up from my bed at that. I scrambled out the door faster than lightning, searching for where the noise was coming from. And there it was-Aunt Crisma stood outside our front door holding a large kitchen knife. I also spotted our neighbors gathered around like they were watching a live show. They were all hovering nearby, but no one stepped in to stop it.

"Honestly, they act like kids. Should I just take that knife and use it on both of them?"

I turned at the sound of the voice-it was her daughter, Crishna. She had one hand on her hip and was yawning, clearly woken up by her mother's yelling.

"Crisma! Stop this, please! You'll regret it if you cut him-you won't have anything to enjoy anymore!"

I grimaced at the words. I couldn't tell if Uncle Mario was joking or serious, but his comment only made Aunt Crisma angrier.

"You absolute fool! Your sweet talk won't work on me anymore. What would I even do with that tiny thing of yours? It's smaller than a eunuch's!"

Crishna and I stepped aside as Aunt Crisma stormed into their bedroom. A moment later she came back out carrying armfuls of clothes, which she threw at Uncle Mario's feet.

"Here! Now get out! Go run to that woman who acts like a Vivamax actress! You bastard! I don't need you here-I can raise Yna on my own!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Crishna crossed her arms and sighed. "This is so embarrassing. They make a huge scene like this, then end up making up anyway!" she grumbled before heading to the backyard.

"Please don't do this, Crisma! Let's talk it out-I can't live without you!" Uncle Mario pleaded, nearly dropping to his knees.

"How many times do we have to talk about this, Mario?! I'm tired-I've had enough of your pathetic excuses! Get out now, or I'll report you and your mistress to the barangay captain!"

I let out a long breath and turned to head for the bathroom to splash water on my face. It was morning anyway, and I needed to get moving-Yna had school at eight o'clock.

"Marimar?! Where are you? Hurry up and cook-Yna has to leave soon!" I heard my aunt's angry shout from the other room.

See? Just as I thought.

"Just a minute, Auntie! I'm washing my face!" I called back.

"Hmph! You think soap will change the fact that you're ugly?!" she yelled again.

I walked out of our wooden bathroom-we had a toilet, but waste flowed straight down to the space under the house. That was just how it was here; our homes sat on stilts above the water, right on the shore, so the space beneath us was the sea itself.

"My soap is just a local brand, Auntie," I said, glancing at the mirror nailed to the wall.

"Hah! I don't care! You still look as ugly as my sister," she snapped. "Hurry up-I didn't take you in to feed a freeloader."

I pouted and made my way to the kitchen at the far end of the room. The house was fairly big for a wooden structure-our house? Because the land it stood on used to belong to my family.

It's been seven years since the big fire swept through our neighborhood. I was eighteen then, and my family was among those caught in the blaze. Yes-my whole family. My mother, father, and twelve-year-old sibling all died that day. I never knew why they couldn't escape, but I saw their charred bodies with my own eyes. I lost all hope that they might still be alive and accepted that I was alone in the world.

After the tragedy, Aunt Crisma-my mother's sister-claimed our land. She built her own house here without asking me. In the end, I was the one left homeless, and now I "live with them" as if I were a guest.

"Well?! Are you done yet, Mara?!" I heard my aunt's shout again-she was already on edge even this early. Not that I could blame her; she'd just kicked out her husband after catching him cheating once more.

"Almost done!" I flipped the eggs in the pan. I was making breakfast for them-I wasn't included in their meals.

She was wrong earlier when she called me a freeloader, too. I used my own money to buy food for myself. I'd never once eaten at their dining table. I was more like a maid who also happened to stay here. If I could leave, I would-but I had nowhere else to go. They were my only living relatives in this place.

-

"Come, come, my lovely and handsome customers! Fresh catch today-plump bonito, round scad, and tilapia! Perfect for breakfast, lunch, or dinner!"

My loud, cheerful voice was one of the first sounds you'd hear at the market.

This was my job-I sold fish for Nay Linda, my older employer.

"How much is this?" a customer asked as they approached our stall.

I broke into a wide smile. "Only three dollars for any of these beauties! What'll it be-tilapia, bonito, round scad... or me?" I teased.

The customer laughed. "Oh my, you're quite the flirt! Just one kilo of tun, please."

"See how good my vendor is?" I heard Elder Linda say as she arranged plastic bags for our goods.

"Absolutely! And she's so pretty-do you have Spanish blood?" the customer asked me.

I laughed softly as I weighed and wrapped the fish. "None at all, ma'am! Pure Filipino through and through-this is real Pinoy beauty!" I said with a grin.

"Your looks are special, and you have such charm! Why don't you try modeling?"

I laughed even harder as I handed over the bag. "Oh no, that's a too expensive path! I'm happy here at the market. I make lots of money every day! And Elder Linda is the best boss around-her fish are always top quality, so make sure to come back and buy from us!" I winked and gave them their change.

"You're such a delightful young woman, but I mean it, modeling would suit you," they said before waving goodbye.

I waved back. "People these days are such smooth talkers," I said, turning to Elder Linda.

"She's not flattering you, child. You really are beautiful. Your skin is as fair as milk. It's a shame you're stuck in a place like this." I pouted at her words.

"I don't have anywhere else to go... you know what my situation is like. I'd rather stay here in the province," I said.

The older woman shrugged. "But I have a feeling you'll become rich one day. So keep working hard, okay?"

I smiled. "If I ever get rich, you'll be the first person I share my fortune with!"

"Alright then, I'll hold you to that!" she said, and we both laughed.

This was how my days went. I'd wake up to cook for my aunt's family, then work at the market or fish dock from ten in the morning until five in the afternoon. When I got home, I'd cook dinner for them again, wash the dishes, and only then could I sleep.

For now, I'd say I was content with my life. I didn't have much of a choice anyway-but if an opportunity ever came my way, I'd grab it with both hands.

I hoped Elder Linda's hunch was right and I'd find success someday. So Lord, please give me a sign! Was there really a chance I could become rich even with my life the way it is?

"Good, you're finally home."

I looked up to see Aunt Crisma sitting on our wooden sofa. She wore a strange smile, and another woman sat beside her-they'd clearly been waiting for me.

"Good evening, Auntie. What is it?" I asked politely as I stepped inside. I'd just come from work, so I still smelled of fish and kept my distance from them.

"This is the one I was telling you about, girl. What do you think? Is she good enough?" Aunt Crisma said excitedly.

I furrowed my brow-I didn't like the way she was acting. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

The woman snapped her fingers. "Perfect! She's exactly what we need!" she said.

"What's going on here?!" I asked, my voice a little louder now.

"My friend here just came from the Streeter mansion-you know them, right? The tycoon family whose head of household passed away. They're looking for a new house helper to replace my friend, so I told her you'd take the job. That way you'll finally be useful to us and can pay us back for letting you stay here!" she said, beaming.

Shock was written all over my face. Did she really think I wasn't useful, after all I did to take care of them?

I let out a sigh and looked at her friend. "How much is the salary?" I asked right away.

The woman grinned widely. "Five hundred dollar a month, child!"

My eyes went wide. Twenty thousand? That was a fortune!

"W-Wait-will I be doing regular house chores?" I asked, still reeling from the number she'd mentioned.

"Yes! If I were you, I'd take this in a heartbeat. Plus, they'll even give you a free ride to the mansion in their van tomorrow," the woman said, her eyes bright. "So? Are you in? I need to add your name to the list of people leaving tomorrow."

I still couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Lord? Is this the sign I asked for earlier? Is this the start of my journey to a better life?

Marimar Oquendo's Point of View

"What? You're so slow, Mara! My friend has been waiting for ages. You're always acting so high and mighty, you little brat!"

I heaved a long sigh as Aunt Cris's booming voice thundered through the house. Why did my aunt have to be this way? She was infuriating. I had been so close to finally relieving myself moments ago, but her shouting had startled me right back.

"Auntie just can't wait a minute! Now I can't go-my bowels were ready to move before she started yelling!" I shouted back before hurrying to the bathroom.

"I think this will be the last time I'll ever use you," I said to the clean toilet bowl, pointing at it. "I hope their toilet at that mansion is decent. What if I get homesick and can't go at all?"

At Aunt Cris's insistence-and mine as well-I was about to venture to her friend's supposed mansion. The twenty-thousand peso monthly salary was more than decent; it would make perfect seed money for my business.

I grabbed the bag I had packed the night before. I still could not believe I was finally leaving this house. Please let this job be the one to make me rich, Lord! I promised myself I would help anyone in need once I had money to spare.

"Are you done yet? Good, it's about time." My aunt's voice was sharp as always-she had been heartbroken for years. "Don't forget to send us money. Actually, send us your entire first paycheck."

My jaw dropped. Good heavens, where did she get the nerve to say something like that?

"What? Do you have a problem with that? You seem to forget you owe me everything for getting you this job, Marimar. If you have any decency left, you will send us your first salary. Especially since Yna has so many school bills to pay." She raised an eyebrow as she spoke.

I scratched my head in frustration. Did she feel no guilt for how harsh she had always been to me?

"Okay, Auntie," was all I could say before walking out our wooden house. I crossed the rickety footbridge that led to other homes just like ours-all built from wood.

I had grown up in this kind of neighborhood. Simple houses, simple families, simple lives, as they say. But ever since my parents died, nothing about my life had been simple. It felt like I was living in a soap opera, struggling through one hardship after another.

Still, they say we are the heroes of our own stories. Like the protagonists in those dramas, it was not impossible that my dreams might one day come true.

I lifted my hands and bumped fists with the air as I looked up at the sky-my way of shaking hands with the Lord.

"Lord! I'm putting my life in Your hands! Make me rich!" I said with a giggle.

"Marimar's gone crazy," I heard some neighbors mutter. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I ducked my head and hurried down the street. What was I thinking? I must have lost my mind.

"Marimar!" A woman waved as I reached the main road-she was Tita's friend. A large white van sat parked in front of me.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting," I said. I had been so excited I almost had an accident earlier, but my aunt's shouting interrupted me.

"It's alright, dear. Come on in-we should get going now. Just be yourself. You can do this!"

Why did I suddenly feel so nervous? "Just be yourself"? What did that mean?

I nodded hesitantly and climbed into the open door of the van. Inside, a few other people sat quietly-they must have been applying for the same househelp position as me. I was the last to arrive, so I took the only seat left at the back, next to a well-built man whose biceps strained against his sweatshirt. He wore sunglasses and seemed to be asleep, so I sat down as carefully as I could.

I squirmed in my seat, shifting back and forth as the van pulled away. The others looked ready to nap, but I could not sit still. It was not because of the man beside me-though his strong cologne filled my nose no matter how far I tried to move. He was incredibly handsome.

I stole a glance at him. His sweatshirt clung perfectly to his frame. My eyes drifted down to his stomach. Good heavens-were those abs? They looked just like pan de sal rolls, round and firm.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a better look. I fanned myself with my palm, feeling inexplicably warm.

Why was it so hot in here? The van had air conditioning.

I squirmed again, my nerves getting the better of me. Oh Lord! Did I get into the wrong van? He looked like a celebrity.

I bit my lip and snuck another look at his face. Perfect jawline, fair skin, muscular build-and those abs. What was he doing here? Was he applying to be a bodyguard? Or was this some kind of TV show set?

I sat up slightly and peered toward the front of the van, searching for hidden cameras. When I found none, I let out a small breath of relief.

I turned back to him and slapped my own cheek lightly. Get a grip, Marimar! You are here for a job, not to ogle some man.

It took all my strength to keep from looking at him again. After fighting the urge for what felt like hours, I finally grew tired and drifted off to sleep.

"Ahh! Please don't!"

"Have mercy! Please don't!"

I jolted awake at the sound of chaos around me. Why was it so loud? I was not at home anymore. What was happening now-

"Good heavens, Marimar!" I screamed when I opened my eyes.

A gun was pressed against my forehead. The other passengers scrambled to escape the van, but I was frozen in place, staring down the barrel of death itself.

"P-Please don't!" My voice trembled as I raised both hands slowly. This was what people did during holdups, right?

The two men left in the van had their faces covered. One drove while the other held the gun to my head.

"Hand over that man," he said, nodding toward my seatmate.

My eyes widened. "W-What do you want with the man next to me? The one with the abs?" I stammered. I was being held at gunpoint and I was asking questions. How stupid could I be?

He pressed the gun harder against my forehead. "You are asking questions now? Is that how you act when you are being robbed?"

"Oh my god! No! I'm sorry! I just want a job!" I cried out in terror.

Lord, I thought this would be the start of my wealth. Instead, I was about to die.

"I see. Then hand him over-or kill him."

A chill ran through my entire body. Lord, I wanted an honest job. Did You want me to become a murderer instead?

I shook my head, tears threatening to spill over. "What? You think I have the nerve to do that? I see you think I have guts, but-"

"I see, I see. You have some spirit. I like that."

What was he going on about? Who in their right mind would want to kill someone? It was never part of my plans to become a criminal.

"Let's conduct an interview, then."

I froze and furrowed my brow at his words. I slowly opened my eyes-they had been squeezed shut in fear.

An interview? I had never heard of a robber conducting an interview.

"Y-Yes, sir," I said, my voice still shaking.

"What will you do in a situation where you must choose between your loved ones and yourself?"

"H-Hey! Why does this sound like a question from a beauty pageant?"

"Answer!"

I flinched. "Okay! Okay... I will choose my loved ones!"

"Why?" he asked again.

"B-Because they matter to me. I would rather choose them than myself, and I will never tire of making that decision. Please don't kill me!"

Good heavens! My brain was racing to answer his strange questions.

"Very good! That is a good answer. I can tell it comes from your heart."

The van suddenly stopped. Thank you, Lord! Should I run? No, he might shoot me.

"Stop the act. We're here," the driver said.

"Oh? That was fast!" The man holding the gun turned to me. "Get out."

"Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" I said frantically, nodding and bowing before climbing out the open door.

I kept my eyes closed, waiting for a gunshot as I turned away-but nothing came.

"Congratulations."

I snapped my eyes open at the deep voice. My jaw dropped again when I saw the man standing before me-he was incredibly tall with blonde hair and blue eyes.

My eyes widened even more when I saw what was behind him. Good heavens, Lord! The house was enormous-it had to be a mansion.

"You passed."

I looked back at him, confused. "Passed? What do you mean? Passed away? Am I dead?"

I patted my body all over. Had I been shot earlier?

I heard soft laughter and turned to see the two men from the van, now with their faces uncovered. What was going on?

"I'm Death Streeter. And you are?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Marimar O-Oquendo, sir."

He nodded. "Miss Oquendo, you passed the trial to be my brother's nanny."

My head began to ache as I tried to process his words. Trial? Nanny?

"Earlier was just a trial to see how strong-willed the applicants are. As you can see, you are the only one who passed. Again, congratulations."

My mind spun. The life-threatening ordeal from moments ago had been a trial? What kind of job had I gotten myself into?

Before I could fully understand what was happening, he spoke again. "Oh, here he comes."

I followed his gaze and gasped when I saw the man from the van walking toward us.

"Lev... this is your nanny-" he began, but his words were cut off as the man rushed toward me.

"Milk!" he shouted, throwing his arms around me.

Huh?

"Milk! Milk!" he repeated, hugging me tightly and gently squeezing my chest. "Oh! Cocomelon!"

"Huh?!!" was all I could scream, completely stunned by what was happening.