Nanny for the Don: Chapter 18

“You alright?”

For a split second, it looks like Willow’s about to… cry?

My gut tightens. But she pulls herself together, throwing on the brave face she wears so well.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, brushing it off.

I lean in, kissing her shoulder, breathing in her scent. It’s intoxicating, floating through me like a drug. “It’s for the best we don’t share a bed,” I speak against her skin.

I mean it, too. Keeping things separate is how we avoid complicating this arrangement.

She nods, but there’s something in her eyes, a flicker of something I can’t quite read. “Yeah, it is. I know.”

She rolls out of bed, and I can’t help but watch as she bends over to pick up her panties. The way her body moves, the curve of her hips—fuck, she’s sexy as hell. My eyes roam over her, and before I know it, I’m hard again. I want her, all over again, like I haven’t just had her.

She slips on her panties, and I’m biting back the urge to pull her back into bed, to forget about the rules we’ve set up. But I hold back, keeping my distance, even as every part of me is screaming to take her again. This thing between us—it’s dangerous, but damn if it doesn’t feel right.

She turns around, standing in front of me in just her panties, and my eyes immediately lock onto her pink nipples, still firm from our time together. The memory of their taste is fresh in my mouth, and I feel another surge of desire.

“Can I use the gym again in the morning?” she asks, her tone casual with a hint of an edge.

“Of course,” I say, my voice smooth. “I’ll even do breakfast for the girls if you want to take your time.”

She gives me a polite smile, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I won’t shirk my responsibilities.”

I watch her as she starts getting dressed, and the urge to know more about her, beyond what she shows me, nags at me. “Can I ask you something?”

She pauses, her fingers on her bra strap, and looks at me with caution. “What’s that?”

“Do you have big plans for your yoga?” I ask, and I can see the wheels turning in her head as she considers the question.

She’s wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and she’s a vision of temptation, but I’m after something deeper.

“Maybe one day,” she says, slipping into her clothes.

I watch her, my curiosity piqued more than ever.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell her. “Have a good workout.”

She hesitates, like there’s something else she wants to say. I wait, but she just nods, offering a simple “Good night,” before heading out. The room feels different once she’s gone, quieter, but not in a way that brings any peace.

I roll over in bed, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s hiding something, some kind of secret she’s not ready to share. Maybe she’s starting to have second thoughts about all of this, about us. But then again, the way she responded to me, the way her body reacted, it didn’t feel like someone who wanted out.

Maybe she wants more. That’s always been a risk, and the truth is, it’s a risk I’m starting to think I might be willing to take. The scary part is realizing I might feel the same way, that maybe this isn’t just about sex anymore.

I think back to how happy the girls were when she came home earlier, how they lit up around her. It’s not just about her and me—it’s about them, too.

Whatever she’s holding back, I need to get to the bottom of it. I need to know what’s going on in her head, and whether it could change everything for us.

She’s got secrets, and I want to know every last one of them.

Flashes of last night flood my mind—the way Willow moaned, her voice breathless and needy, the look on her face as I drove deep inside her. I can still feel the way she clenched around me, her pussy gripping me tight as she came hard, her body shaking with the intensity of it.

The memory alone is enough to make my cock ache with need, waking me up hard as a rock. I roll over, half expecting to see her beside me, but the bed is empty. The sheets are cold where she should be. I never thought I’d want someone next to me when I woke up, but damn, I wish she was here. Not just for the sex, though God knows I want that too—badly.

The idea of waking up next to her, holding her close, kissing her awake, whispering a lazy “good morning” into her ear… It’s more appealing than I’d ever admit out loud.

But she’s not here. Just like we agreed. No overnights, no lingering, no getting too close.

I sigh, trying to push the thoughts away as I glance at the clock. It’s time to get up, time to start the day. The empty space beside me, where she should be, nags at me, reminding me that maybe this whole thing isn’t as simple as I thought it could be.

I roll out of bed and head straight for the shower, the hot water washing away the sweat from last night. As much as I like the idea of her scent lingering on me, I know it would be too much of a distraction, especially with all the thoughts swirling in my head. The water cascades down, but it does nothing to cool the heat that’s building again.

My cock gets hard as hell as I flash back to her on her knees, her lips wrapped around me, taking me deep, the way she looked up at me with those eyes, full of need. Part of me wants to finish myself off, but I grit my teeth and think better of it. I don’t want that. I want her.

I hop out of the shower, towel off, and get dressed; my mind still tangled up in thoughts of her. I start thinking about how I’d like to spend the day with Willow and the girls, maybe take them Christmas shopping, let the girls pick out some things they want. It sounds… nice. Maybe even more than nice. It sounds like something a family would do.

Just then my phone buzzes on the counter, snapping me out of my thoughts. A text. I grab the phone, my jaw tightening as I swipe to see it’s from Sal.

On my way over. Something important we need to discuss ASAP—in person and in private.

I text Sal back: I’m ready. Come over.

He responds almost immediately: Need to park in the garage. We’ll need to use the basement.

I know what that means—this isn’t just a casual drop-by. Whatever Sal has found, it’s big, and it needs to be handled quietly and out of sight.

I head downstairs, and the smell of coffee and pancakes hits me before I even reach the kitchen. When I step inside, I catch sight of Willow at the stove, flipping pancakes while the girls chatter around her.

It’s a scene I could get used to, something simple and perfect. For a second, I wish I could just stay here, at this moment.

Willow glances up and smiles when she sees me. “Morning. Want some coffee?”

“Morning. ,” I reply, my tone warm but distracted. “Wish I could, but I’ve got something I need to take care of.” I glance at the girls. “Last day of preschool before Christmas break, right?”

“Nope!” Giulia says. “No school today!”

“Is that right?”

“The news says lots of snow,” Lucia says.

Willow jumps in. “And that means the break starts today.”

A tinge of tension runs through me. I’d hoped to have the house to myself for the day with the business I need to attend to.

“Don’t worry,” Willow says. “I’ll be getting the girls out of the house before the snow starts. Get them a little fresh air and sunshine before a potential snow-in.”

“Sounds good,” I reply. It’s like she’s able to read my mind.

The girls look up from their plates, their faces full of questions, but before I can say more, the chime rings through the house, signaling Sal’s arrival.

“Are you expecting someone?” Willow asks as she flips another pancake.

“Just business,” I say, trying to keep it light. “I’ll be back soon.”

She nods, her eyes searching mine for a second before she turns back to the stove. “Alright. We’ll save you some breakfast.”

I give her a quick nod. “Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I pull out my phone and hit the button on the security app to let him in. My mind is already shifting gears, preparing for whatever Sal may have found.

Just as I’m about to open the door to the garage, it swings open on its own. Sal’s already there, his usual confident grin on his face. He’s in his late thirties, built like a damn tank, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. His tailored suit hugs his frame just right, and his eyes are sharp, always calculating.

“Thought I’d say hi to the girls first,” Sal says.

“Of course,” I reply, even though I’m eager to get to the matter at hand. The girls love their Uncle Sal, and I can’t deny them a few minutes with him.

We head into the kitchen, and as soon as the girls see him, they spring out of their seats like they’ve been shot out of a cannon. “Uncle Sal!” they squeal in unison, rushing over to him. He bends down, arms wide, catching them both in a big hug.

“There’s my favorite girls!” he says, lifting them off the ground easily. “You two getting into trouble, or just giving your dad a hard time?”

They giggle, clinging to him like they’ve just found treasure. The girls love Sal. It’s always like this when Sal’s around.

He straightens, turning his attention to Willow. “And who’s this lovely lady?” he asks, his tone smooth as silk.

“Willow,” she introduces herself, offering a polite smile. “I’m the new nanny.”

“Willow, huh?” Sal says, flashing his best charming grin. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

She laughs, but I feel an intense rush of jealousy spike through me. I know Sal’s a shameless flirt but seeing him work his charm on her grates on me.

“Alright, Sal,” I cut in. , my voice firm. “Time to get to work.”

Sal meets my eyes and nods, understanding the fun’s over. “Lead the way, boss.”

Sal and I head down to the garage. “What’s going on? What’d you find?”

Sal glances at me, his expression serious. “I found a guy that knows who killed your father and his associates.”

His words stop me cold. My blood turns to ice, every nerve in my body on high alert. “Where is he?”

Sal grins the kind of grin that usually means he’s got something good. “He’s in my trunk.”

A sharp, almost disbelieving laugh escapes me as we walk to his car—a sleek, black Audi S7, functional but eye-catching enough to turn heads. He pops open the trunk, and there’s a guy inside, looking like he’s been through hell and back. His face is bruised, his clothes torn, and he’s bound tight, barely able to move.

The sight of him stirs something dark in me—a need for answers, for justice. For revenge. I step closer, my eyes narrowing as I take in the pathetic sight before me.

“You’ve got some explaining to do. ,” I say, my voice cold and hard as steel. “And I suggest you start fast, if you want to leave here in one piece.”

The guy mumbles through the gag, his eyes wide with fear. I can tell he’s begging for his life—they always do. I smirk, knowing exactly how this is going to play out.

“Sal, take this prick to the basement.”

Sal nods, and we both know what’s coming next. Attached to the garage is a separate door that leads to the soundproofed basement, which is perfect for the kind of conversation I’m about to have. It’s where the real work gets done, where the truth comes out one way or another.

“I’ll be right there,” I tell Sal, watching as he hauls the guy out of the trunk and drags him toward the door. The guy’s struggling, but it’s pointless. He’s got nowhere to run.

I take a deep breath and head back into the house. Willow and the girls are still in the kitchen, chatting and eating breakfast. It’s a peaceful scene, the kind that almost makes me forget what I’m about to do.

Almost.

“I’ll be working downstairs,” I tell Willow, my tone casual..

“Sure,” she says, but I can see it in her eyes—she knows something more is going on. She’s not stupid. But she doesn’t press, just nods, her gaze lingering on me a moment longer than usual.

As I head back down, I can’t help but wonder just how much she knows about what I do for a living. And more importantly, what she’d say if she knew all the grisly details.

Would she still look at me the same way? Or would it change everything?

The thought nags at me as I approach the storage room in the basement, ready to do some dirty work.