Chapter 1

“This is a dangerous proposal, Mr. Ricci,” said the Headmistress of ESNA, at her desk. Looking at Damian. “With this salary, we could provide you one of our top performers, with over a decade of experience—”

“No,” said Damian, cutting her short. “I require exclusivity,” he straightened his black jacket and crossed his legs, “I want someone who’s never worked with anyone else before.” 

“I see,” said the Headmistress, looking in one of her drawers. She took out all the files with a list of all the candidates, “These are our most recent graduates.” She said, spreading the papers on the table for Damian to see. “All awaiting their first assignment.”

Damian bent down to look at the candidates, but all he saw was young women who looked like they didn't even know what the world was outside of this secret academy. 

Damian passed a hand through his dark-blonde hair and made a hard sigh. He put his index finger on his forehead and the thumb on his chin, “And they’re all … Qualified?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Headmistress inhaled and spoke, “Each of our graduates has mastered the core pillars of the ESNA program exams,” she said, relaxing her back to the chair, “Early childhood development and psychology. First aid for the little child. Defense combat to protect herself and the kid. Advanced Driving. Physical and Cybersecurity. Household management. Financial planning. Politics—If I may ask, Mr. Ricci, why are you seeking an elite Nanny?”

Damian raised his head slowly, and put on a poker face. “Why …?” He said out loud, but the situation brought him to three weeks earlier.

Three weeks earlier

He got out of the elevator that instead of going up, went down. He looked down at his watch and saw that it was 12:45 PM and gave confident steps towards the bartender as everyone stopped talking to look at Damian. 

He knew that even though they all worked for the Mafia, they all worked for him. And everyone was afraid of getting on his bad side to lose their good-paying jobs. 

“M-Mr. Ricci,” said the young bartender, “Whatever you’ve heard—”

“I think you know what I heard,” said Damian, glaring at the bartender. Placing a gun at the table.

“I fucked up. But we can work something out,” said the young bartender, taking some steps back, “Whatever you want.”

Damian stood up, stretched his hands, and grabbed the guy by the collar, “I want your books. All of them. And when the bill comes, you’ll pay,” He threatened, “Is that a problem?”

The bartender flinched, and trembled, “N-no! I understand.” 

Damian raised his head, “Good.” He stopped grabbing the guy by the collar and pushed him, “Oh, I have one more favor, kill the person who gives me the books.”

“And juice!” Said a young voice, from behind the counter. Damian closed his eyes. fuck.. he thought. 

Flicks of light-blonde hair appeared over the counter as the young person grabbed a chair, and sat down.

“Apple juice,” clarified the young person, looking at the bartender with daring soft blue eyes, while wearing a formal black suit that matched Damian’s.

The bartender looked confused. He was confused. Damian couldn’t blame him. The poor guy was scared to death and then the kid appeared.

“Seriously?” Asked the bartender, “Who’s the kid?”

“For that sign of disrespect, make it double.” Threatened the young person, trying to copy Damian’s actions. Leaning towards the bartender. 

Damian pressed a hand to his forehead, “Blake..” he said.

The young person turns to Damian and whispers, “I’ve told you. It’s ‘The Juicelover’ when we’re on a job, Papa.” Said Blake. Totally forgetting about the young bartender.

“But you promised you’d stay quiet, Blakey.” Said Damian, whispering back, with his eyes closed. Totally pissed. 

“But I have demands too.” Said Blake, responding to Damian. Still whispering.

“Do you, uh, still want the juice?” Asked the bartender from behind. Not whispering at all. 

“Yes!” “No!” Blake and Damian answered at the same time. The bartender looked confused, “We’re leaving,” said Damian, grabbing Blake by the waistline, and scooping him over to Damian’s right broad shoulder.

“But my juice—!” Exclaimed Blake, kicking and punching Damian’s chest and back.

Present day

“The usual reasons,” said Damian shrugging. Not telling the Headmistress the whole story, “His mother is out of the picture, and my company … doesn’t provide childcare.” He said avoiding the Headmistress’s eyes. 

Damian was the Mafia boss, yes, but when it came to lying, he was terrible at it. 

“Well, your son will be in good hands,” said the Headmistress, pointing at the nanny candidates, “As you can see, we have excellent candidates. What are you looking for exactly?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Damian thought about it. Who did he want? If it came to protecting his sister’s son, he wanted the nanny to be the best at everything. He wanted the best

nanny. He wanted her to be exceptional because she would be Blake’s new nanny.

While Damian thought about who he wanted to have for a nanny, he looked at the candidates' information papers and set eyes with a red head with jade-like green eyes. 

He stared at the picture and the girl. She had a great smile, but behind a smile can be masks. He liked her already. He saw how great of an asset she would be when it came to the “No emotion” company rule.

He grabbed the paper with her face and read her information. Her name was Cassie Oakley and she specialized in Cybersecurity and Operations. 

“Her.” Said Damian, pointing at the girl, without giving it much thought. He doesn’t know why he said it, but he does.

The Headmistress stiffens in her chair, “Cassie? Her specialty is Cybersecurity and Operations. Do you have a large home network to oversee?” Asked the Headmistress, passing a white strand of hair behind her ear.

Damian relaxed in his chair and put on a poker face. 

He doesn’t know when, how or why did he have a slight smile on his face, but he did. And he hated himself for showing what he normally doesn’t

“No, I don’t.” Stated Damian, crossing his arms and uncrossing his legs.

“I wouldn’t recommend her, then.” Said the Headmistress, looking relieved, “Ariana speaks fluent Italian. And Jessica specializes in defensive combat, which could be of use—”

“No,” said Damian. He grabbed the paper with Cassie’s information, raised it and pointed to Cassie, “I want her.”