A 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.