Nanny for the Don: An Age Gap, Billionaire Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)
Nanny for the Don: Chapter 32

I’m in a total daze as we drive. My mind’s racing, but all I can think about is the girls.

God, I hope they made it home safe.

And the baby—I can’t help but worry about what this stress is doing to the tiny life inside me. My hands instinctively go to my stomach, trying to calm the fear bubbling up.

We’re heading into Queens now, the streets unfamiliar, and nothing about this feels right. I glance at the driver, asking a question as if he’ll answer me. “Where are you taking me?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, not even bothering to look at me.

My stomach tightens with dread. We finally pull up to a rundown townhouse in a sketchy part of the Bronx. The neighborhood’s rough, graffiti on every wall, the place looking like it’s barely standing.

Enzo parks, gets out, and comes around to open the door. But I don’t wait for him to grab me. The second that door opens, I lunge forward and slam my forehead into his face, hard.

“Fuck!” he yells, stumbling back, clutching his nose.

I bolt out of the car, running as fast as I can. My feet hit the pavement, and I don’t even know where I’m going, but it doesn’t matter. I just need to get away. Luckily, there isn’t as much snow as there was at Nico’s.

I’m running as hard as I can, but it’s tough with my wrists bound. My breath’s ragged, heart pounding like it’s about to burst out of my chest. I keep pushing, legs burning, turning the corner with a sliver of hope that I might actually get away.

But it’s a ghost town. Desolate. Nothing but abandoned buildings, and not a single person in sight. The panic sets in deeper.

Behind me, I hear the guy from the car yelling for help. I glance over my shoulder and see two huge dudes barreling after me, running way faster than I thought possible for guys their size.

Shit.

I push harder, my lungs screaming, but just when I think I might have a shot at outrunning them, my foot slips. I hit a patch of ice and go down hard on my side, the impact slamming into my shoulder like a sledgehammer. The pain is instant, radiating through my entire arm. I gasp, trying to suck in air, but it feels like everything’s spinning.

Flat on my back, all I can see is the slate gray sky above, cold and unforgiving. The pounding of footsteps is getting louder, closer, and there’s nothing I can do.

I scramble to my feet, trying to shake off the pain and get another run in, but it’s too late. The guys are on me in seconds. One of them pulls out a knife, holding it inches from my face.

“You need to fucking behave,” he growls.

The other one grabs me by the arm, yanking me upright like I weigh nothing. My heart’s still racing, fear and adrenaline surging through me. They drag me back toward the corner, where the driver is waiting, a nasty smirk on his face. Without warning, he backhands me hard, the sting spreading across my cheek.

“Don’t try that shit again.”

Dazed, I barely process what’s happening as they march me toward the rundown house. The driver calls out, “Cobra,” like it’s some secret code or password.

The door swings open, and on the other side is an absolute mountain of a man, easily twice my size. He looks me over, grunting, then nods for the others to bring me inside.

To my surprise, the inside isn’t some abandoned crack house like I expected. It’s buzzing with activity. Guys huddled over tables, weighing out bags of drugs, others stacking crates full of guns. The place is crawling with criminals, all moving with purpose.

I’m led deeper into the house, and I can feel the eyes of some of these criminals crawling over me like I’m meat on display. My skin crawls. Part of me wants to snap, to tell them to keep their disgusting stares to themselves, but I keep my mouth shut. I can’t risk getting roughed up, not with the baby to think about. I’m already freaked about the fall I took a few minutes ago.

We walk through a narrow hallway and into an office. I’m still trying to make sense of everything when I freeze. Sitting there, battered and bruised, is the man I saw in Nico’s basement. His face is a mess—bruises covering every inch—and when he grins at me, I notice he’s missing a tooth.

Nico didn’t kill him. The thought hits me, and for a second, there’s a weird sense of relief. At least until the man opens his mouth.

“Well, well, well… look what we have here.” His voice is slimy, full of dark amusement. “You’ll do nicely for bait.”

My stomach drops. Bait? They’re using me to get to Nico.

I try to keep my expression neutral, but inside, panic’s clawing at me. This guy isn’t just some low-level thug. He’s the reason Nico’s been so on edge.

And now I’m right in the middle of it.

He rises from behind the desk, his eyes locking onto mine, a disgusting sneer spreading across his bruised face. Every step he takes closer, the more I can see just how wrecked his face is.

Nico really did a number on him. If only he were here to finish the job.

“You’re all mine now,” he says, his voice dripping with twisted satisfaction..”

I try to raise my hand, instinctively wanting to slap that smug grin off his face. But my wrists are still bound.

He sees me struggle and laughs, the sound low and menacing. His breath reeks as he leans in closer, his face inches from mine. The way he looks at me, like he’s already won, makes my skin crawl. I can feel it in his eyes—he’s completely unhinged.

“Not so tough now, huh?”

One of his goons steps forward at his nod and grabs my bindings. He jerks me back so hard I nearly stumble, the force sending a sharp pain through my shoulders. I gasp, my teeth gritted, trying to hold back any sound of pain. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

But inside I’m scared as hell. This guy’s nuts, and I have no idea what he’s planning. All I know is that whatever it is, it’s bad. I can only hope Nico’s on his way.

I spit right in his face, nailing him on the cheek. For a split second, a wild rage flashes in his eyes, and I swear I’ve just sealed my fate. I barely have time to process it before he pulls out a gun, waving it in front of my face. My heart slams against my chest, but I hold my ground, trying not to let him see the fear crawling up my spine.

“You just used your one fuck-up,” he snarls, his voice dripping with venom. He wipes the spit off his cheek with a wicked grin. “The name’s Jack. And for now, you’re my property.”

Property? The word makes my skin crawl, but I keep my mouth shut this time. No need to push my luck again.

Jack steps closer, his eyes dark and dangerous. “What do you think of my face, huh?” He points to his bruises, the busted-up mess Nico left him with.

I stare him down, my voice steady despite the fear thrumming through me. “I think you must’ve deserved it for Nico to do that to you.”

Jack throws his head back and laughs, a twisted, humorless sound. “Oh, sweetheart, when I’m done with you, I’m gonna look like a fucking model in comparison.”

The threat hangs in the air, heavy and real. I try to stay strong, but I can feel the walls closing in. I switch gears, going for the clueless, innocent vibe. “Why me?” I ask, trying to sound like I’m not as scared as I am.

Jack grins, and it’s creepy as hell. “Hurting a man physically? That’s basic,” he says, stepping closer, his gross gaze locked on me. “But getting to his woman? Hurting her? That wrecks him. Makes him lose control. Nico will be so blinded by rage that he won’t be thinking straight. Easy pickings.”

“You’ve got it twisted. I’m just the nanny. Mr. Conti doesn’t care what happens to me. At most, he’s got to deal with the hassle of hiring a new one.”

Jack stares at me, his grin fading into something darker. I hold my breath, praying he buys my act. If Nico doesn’t show up soon, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up this front.

He leans in, way too close, making my skin crawl. I squirm, trying to pull back, but there’s nowhere to go. His breath is hot and disgusting as it fans across my face.

“You’re not just the nanny, sweetheart. I know everything,” he says, his voice low and slimy. “I’ve seen what you and Nico get down to when the girls are asleep.”

My blood runs cold, a wave of panic washing over me.

He knows.

He’s seen us.

Jack gets even closer, his lips near my ear, and I can feel his breath on my skin. “Gotta say,” he whispers, “I loved watching your little exercise routine in Conti’s home gym.”

A wave of disgust hits me, and I have to fight the urge to throw up. Embarrassment, fear, and fury mix into this painful, swirling mess inside me, but my expression is cold when I look at him. I’m not giving this creep the satisfaction of seeing me break. I glare at him, my jaw clenched tight. He’s waiting for me to freak out, to cry, but I’m not going to give him what he wants. He can play his sick little games, but I’m stronger than that.

Jack looks at me like I’m some kind of toy he’s deciding whether to break. His gaze lingers on the dried blood from my busted lip, his lips twisting into an amused smirk.

“Hmm,” he muses, tilting his head like he’s deep in thought. “Do you look rough enough to really scare Conti? I don’t know.”

My vision goes hazy for a second, my body going cold. He’s serious. The thought alone makes me feel faint, but I grit my teeth and force myself to stay conscious. I will not pass out in front of him.

He lets his sadistic little statement hang in the air, enjoying the fear he knows I’m trying to hide. Then, after what feels like forever, he laughs. “Maybe if I get bored.”

Without warning, he grabs my chin roughly, forcing my face toward his. The sudden pressure makes my heart race, but I hold his gaze, determined not to show weakness.

He pulls out his phone, smirks, and prepares to snap a pic.

“Smile.”