Nanny’s Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 3)
Nanny’s Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss: Chapter 21

Matias has been traveling a lot over the last few weeks. Ever since my drunken night and getting arrested, we have avoided each other, or more accurately, I’ve avoided him. He came back home last night, after a five-day trip back to NYC to talk with Dovnic. He has messaged me every day, asking how I am, but the conversations are minimal and surface-level at best.

It’s me. I’m holding back.

And a part of it is because I’m staring a positive pregnancy test right now in my bathroom.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand as I stare at the bright pink lines. There is no question or doubt. There is no faint line. There’s no ‘maybe.’ I am pregnant. I knew I was when I missed the first day of my period. I’m always on time.

I pick up the test and stare at it, knowing I need to tell him. He deserves to know. He’ll be happy. This is what he wanted, isn’t it? He wanted to get me pregnant, and he got his wish. I place my hand against my stomach, wondering how this will change everything surrounding me.

I smile, letting the joy of something I thought I would never have settled inside me. I’m allowed to be happy. I’m allowed to panic too, but in the end, I do feel happiness.

Now, how do I tell him? The relationship hasn’t been great since the gala, and it’s been even worse since I was in jail. I know the charges were dropped against me, and the restraining order for Michael is active. He has a warrant out for his arrest after traffic cameras caught him in the act.

It’s a relief, but also terrifying. They can’t replace him, and I know he’ll be back for me. Being pregnant only heightens the fear more. I can’t let anything happen to Matias’s child. It’s time to have whatever this is between us truly bloom into something special.

It’s my fault that it hasn’t yet. I’ve been keeping him at a distance. I’ve been trying to convince myself I’m not good enough when Matias has done nothing but prove to me the complete opposite.

I’m going to go tell him. Right now.

I wrap the pregnancy test with toilet paper and hide it under the sink. Swinging open the door, I nearly run over Ella who has paint brushes in her hands.

“Daddy bought me a bunch of paint and brushes and canvases, and I want us to paint,” she says quickly, a big goofy grin on her face.

My plan will have to wait.

“That sounds like so much fun. I’d love to paint with you.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen area, where all the supplies are laid out. Everything is set up and Matias is there, looking so damn handsome he takes my breath away, but I’m unable to speak. There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to do, and my tongue is tied.

“Hi,” he begins softly, his voice deep and charming, seeping its comfort into my bones.

I take a seat and smile. “Hi,” I whisper.

“How are you?” he asks, biting into an apple.

My eyes wander over his tight shirt. The sleeves grip his biceps, and his sweatpants are slung low, leaving nothing to the imagination when it comes to his cock. I can see the outline, the crown of the head pushing against the material.

He smirks, clearing his throat. “Good, then? I assume.”

My cheeks redden from being caught. “Very. I—um—wanted to ask how Dominick is doing.”

He leans against the counter next to me. “He’s good. Healing. He is in better spirits than I thought he would be… He’s a tough kid. He’ll be fine.”

“Daddy, look! It’s an elephant.”

Matias and I give Ella our full attention.

“Wow, Ella Bella. That looks amazing!” Matias sounds like he is in pure awe of his little girl. “It’s beautiful. I want to hang it on the fridge, okay?”

“I’m not done yet. Maybe after.”

“I love it,” I add, knowing that, to everyone else, it is going to look like a grey blob, but hey, she’s just a kid. Being creative is all that is needed at that age.

“What are you going to paint?” Matias asks me.

“I don’t know. I’ll just see where the paint takes me, I guess.” I draw a streak against the canvas, the black color thick and dark. “Maybe, I’ll do a night sky.” It is simple enough, and fun.

His eyes sear me. I feel his stare piercing the secret I’m holding in tight. He scoots closer, until his elbow touches mine, and the simple motion has me inhaling a sharp breath.

I’ve missed his touch, even if it is as simple as this.

“Can we talk later?” he whispers the question into my ear, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of my neck. “Please?” Matias leans in, his nose touching the side of my head as he inhales my scent. “I’ve missed you so much.”

I close my eyes, getting lost in his nearness.

“There’s so much to discuss. Everything that’s happened… just—I really need to talk to you.”

I nod fast because that’s perfect. If we can talk, then I can tell him about the baby.

“I’d like that, Matias. And… I’ve missed you too.”

He tilts his head to the side, his touch gaining courage as he drags his fingers up and down my arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it hasn’t been easy for me, Matias,” I whisper in return, making sure my voice is as low as possible. “I was so embarrassed and ashamed of what happened that night. You came and—”

“Let’s not talk about that here.” His eyes move to his daughter. “But there is nothing to be ashamed of.” His finger moves to my face, tracing my jaw. “I promise. I never want to make you feel caged. If you have the urge to go out, I want to go with you, or follow you, or watch you.”

I snicker. “That doesn’t sound creepy or anything.”

He grins. “That’s the point. I want you to feel me around, but I won’t crowd you.”

The sound of the plastic cup falling over and pouring dirty water across the counter interrupts us. I jump out of the way, barely missing the murky paint water splashing against the chair.

A second later, Ella begins to wail. Her eyes water, and her lower lip frowns as her face turns red. “I’m sorry!” she yells. “I didn’t mean to do it. I’m sorry. Mommy, I’m sorry.”

I gasp and Matias inhales too, shocked at her word of choice.

I don’t want to think too much of it because, while my heart swells with happiness, it could just be a reflex for her thinking she’s in trouble.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Ella, you’re okay. It’s just water.” I grab the dish towel from the oven, cleaning off my seat first. “See? Look how easy that is.”

“I just… I didn’t mean to. I reached and my brush hit it. I couldn’t stop it. I ruined your painting,” she wails again, big fat tears of guilt rolling down her face.

I stare at my canvas, which was barely coming together since I got sidetracked with Matias.

“I think you made it look better. I was painting a night sky and now you added dimension. Look at all the grey hues? I love it. We will let it dry and work on it later.”

She sniffles, lifting her hands in the air for me to pick her up. “Really?” she begins to calm, wiping her face.

I lift her and sit her on my hip. “Really. It was an accident, Ella. Accidents happen. It’s okay. We aren’t mad at you, baby.” I kiss her forehead, the urge to truly be her mom hitting me full force, and I have to blink away the tears. “I think it’s time for a nap, okay? Why don’t you go get cleaned up in the shower and then I’ll come tuck you in, okay?”

She nods. “Okay, Mommy,” she says for the second time, climbing down my body and bolting to the bathroom.

Silence falls between us and I panic because that’s Matias’s daughter. Having her call me mom might make him feel some type of way. I love it, but maybe he is jealous? What if I’ve overstepped? What if I crossed the line of being her nanny? This could be messy.

“Sophie?” Matias takes a tentative step forward, speaking my name delicately.

I’m frozen. I’m scared. What if he is mad? What if this is it? We never talked about this happening. I never even considered Ella calling me mom. I love it. I never want her to call me Nanny Sophie again. We could be a family. Isn’t that what he wanted? Was the idea, the fantasy, the dream better than reality now that it has hit us in the face?

Maybe we weren’t ready.

I am. I’m finally ready, but Matias is looking at me… I can’t tell how. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are watering.

“Don’t,” Matias warns with ease. “I can tell you’re about to—”

I run.