Chapter 23
23
Giselle
T he next morning, the doorbell rang bright and early. I’d just put Marcello back into his crib after an extra long feeding. And now all I wanted to do was get dressed and go make breakfast before Dani woke up.
I pulled on my robe and wandered out into the hallway. Eve was already poking her head out of their door, looking just as confused as I was.
I shrugged and hurried down the hall. “I’ll go check it out.”
Eve’s hand grabbed my arm so quickly I didn’t even see it. “No, you can’t. Carlo and Nick said we aren’t supposed to answer the door unless they tell us we can.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know. I’ll look outside before I open the door. Don’t worry.” I’d be careful. After getting kidnapped by Sergio’s idiot on Carlo’s driveway, it wasn’t like I’d go bursting outside again unless I was certain I knew who was there.
“Just leave it. Let one of the men get it,” she encouraged.
The doorbell chimed again. “They’re going to wake up the kids. I’ll be careful, I promise.” I shook off her hand and rushed to the window that overlooked the front yard. A very familiar Mercedes parked in the driveway.
“Oh, no, she isn’t,” I muttered to myself and stormed to the top of the stairs. I was halfway down when Carlo barged into the foyer and swung the front door open. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked a very disheveled Stassia. Yikes. Her hair was in a messy bun—or more like a rat’s nest. And I was pretty sure her shirt was on inside out and backward.
“You didn’t send over a new nanny. I had to look after him by myself.” She handed over a screaming baby to Carlo. “For the last two days. With no help from you whatsoever.”
Carlo adjusted the very unhappy baby in his arms. “I sent over a new nanny last night.”
Stassia threw what looked like a diaper bag into the house. “She was worse than the last one. And that one was ten times more awful than the three before that.”
Wow.
It sounded like Stassia was going through nannies like tissues.
“None of that is my fault, Stassia. I’m upholding my end of the deal.”
She laughed out loud, her voice holding a sarcastic tone to it. “You aren’t doing a fucking thing. You barely see your son. And in case you don’t remember—” her hands shot to her hips, and she leaned forward, “he was your fucking idea in the first place. You look after your screaming kid for once. That’s all he does all goddamn day and night. Cry, cry, cry. It’s driving me crazy.”
Her eyes suddenly rose up the staircase and landed on me. A snide smile crossed her face. “Well, well, well. Looks like you got exactly what you wanted. Didn’t you?”
I almost felt her claws come out. Thank goodness I was far enough away from her where she couldn’t strike.
With her claws, at least.
But Stassia had always been able to hit me harder with her words than with her fists.
I didn’t answer because—there was no answer.
I was here, in Carlo’s mansion. His baby—his son—his firstborn son—asleep in our room. Mine—and Carlo’s.
Not Stassia.
Never Stassia.
“I’ll call you later and I’ll have another new nanny at your place by this afternoon. But I swear to Christ, Stassia,” he moved the baby from one shoulder to the other, “if you scare off this one, too, you’re on your fucking own.”
Her eyes grew wide, and she took a step back. “Are you kidding me right now? This is not my fault. You keep sending over shitty, lazy nannies.”
Carlo shook his head and stepped forward, the door in his hand, ready to shut it. “No, Stassia. The problem is that you’re a bitch to them. Just like you are to everyone.”
One second after that, he shut—and locked the door in her face.
I had to stifle a small giggle that rose in my throat.
Carlo turned and looked up at me. “This is not your problem. I will look after him.” Then Carlo took off down the hall with a screaming baby on his shoulder.
A pounding noise on the door sounded, and Carlo immediately yelled, “Don’t fucking answer that! She made her decision.”
Yikes.
A chorus of cries came from the bedrooms behind me. Including Eve’s. “Oh, crap,” I heard her say.
I guess our day had officially begun.