All Chapters of The Mafia's Nanny : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Emilia’s POVI tapped my leg continuously on the floor, my hands pressed tight together as I tried to stop them from shaking. My eyes were locked on the doctor's, and I could hear him talking, but I wasn’t even listening. All that was on my mind was thoughts of how I was going to get twenty-five thousand dollars for Matteo’s surgery. Twenty-five thousand dollars! A shudder ran through me. And that wasn’t all. I still had to pay for the other hospital bills apart from the surgery fee.It seemed like my life was just going haywire at this point, and there was absolutely nothing that I could do to stop it.“Miss Abramo?” The doctor called, snapping her fingers in my face twice. I jumped and then gave her an apologetic smile.“You were saying?” I asked.“Are you okay, Miss Abramo?” She eyed me warily. “You’ve been zoning out.”“Yeah, I’m okay,” I lied, nodding. My hands began to shake, and I clasped them together once again, taking in a deep breath as she continued.“Miss Abramo, it’s get

Emilia’s POV.I was pacing in the hallway outside my brother’s room, my thoughts tangled and all about the brutal men that I had just encountered in the hallway. I had gotten into the elevator, only to go and take the second route, where they wouldn’t see me, and gone back to Matteo’s room, though I didn’t enter. He’d see through me, and I didn’t want him getting worried. My mind kept replaying the scene in the hospital lobby—the little girl who looked at me like I was the answer to something, and her father, his presence as intimidating as it was magnetic.I was lost in those thoughts when I felt someone grab my arm. I jerked around, ready to defend myself however I could, only to find a tall, muscular man gripping me tightly. He was dressed sharply, but his eyes were cold, businesslike. Allesio. He was the one holding the gun to my head.“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low but firm.I tried to pull away. “Excuse me, who do you think you are? Let me go!”“You’re coming with me,” he re

5Alaric’s POV Emilia had surprised me, and it took a lot to do that. Most people I dealt with were quick to nod, to obey, and to walk away as fast as they could manage. But Emilia? No, she had come back with demands of her own. The moment she’d lifted her chin, fire in her eyes, and laid out her terms, I’d felt an unexpected flicker of admiration.I watched her closely from my office, just across the hall. Through the glass door, I could see her kneeling on the floor, surrounded by a sea of crayons and papers, fully engaged in whatever imaginary world my daughter had conjured up. Francesca had always been spirited, a handful even on her best days, but in Emilia’s presence, she softened. She was calm, happy even, and that made me feel lighter.Emilia was resourceful. She didn’t waste time coddling Francesca, but instead, she encouraged her to express herself, to chatter away about every little thought that crossed her mind. She listened intently, nodding at all the right times, react

7Alaric’s POV I stepped into the house, a frown forming on my face at how quiet the house was. And it made me very very uneasy. Normally, by the time I stepped through the door, Francesca’s laughter would echo down the hall, and I’d catch glimpses of Emilia chasing her around, a small, stubborn smile always tugging at her lips. But tonight, it was so quiet, almost as if something was wrong.I hung my coat by the door and glanced around, half-expecting Emilia to appear, carrying Francesca in her arms or perhaps ushering her to bed. But instead, when I found them, Emilia barely looked up. She sat with Francesca on the couch, brushing through her silver hair with a gentleness that looked at odds with how stiff her shoulders were.“Daddy!” Francesca squealed, but she didn’t get up from the couch, keeping still as Emilia continued brushing her hair. I grinned at her in reply.“Good evening,” I said, keeping my voice even as I stepped closer. Emilia didn’t respond. Not immediately, anyway

9Alaric’s POV. Watching Francesca, I couldn’t ignore the shift in her over the past few days. Since Emilia had come into our lives, my daughter had started to smile more, her laughter echoing through the house in ways I hadn’t heard in far too long. She was brighter, more joyful, and that alone made me feel less stressed. It was like a burden if some sort had been lifted off my shoulders.With Emilia at the hospital today, seeing her brother through surgery, I’d decided to take the day off to spend it with Francesca. Work could wait for once. My daughter needed me, and I wanted to give her something real—something beyond my often-busy, distracted self. Besides, it wasn’t often that I saw her this happy. She deserved this, even if just for the day.We spent the morning in the playroom, surrounded by her favorite toys. Francesca had an impressive collection, courtesy of my attempts to keep her entertained in my absence, but none of them seemed to bring her the joy that she got from si