Chapter 3 - Raphael #2
I nod, adjusting our route. Elena's art gallery is her passion, separate from the family business but protected by it nonetheless. A few minutes later, I pull up in front of the elegant storefront where lights still glow softly inside.
"Franco will meet us at your place after the cleanup," Dante tells me as he exits the car. "We need to go over next steps now that Moretti's out of the picture."
"My place?" I repeat, a knot forming in my stomach. "Tonight?"
"Problem?" Dante raises an eyebrow, “I’ll take Elena’s car”
I should mention that I have a new nanny who might still be at the house. I should warn him that there will be a civilian present. I should definitely make sure Franco knows not to discuss the night's events until we're alone.
But Dante is already greeting Elena through the gallery window, and I'm exhausted from the adrenaline crash, and frankly, I assume Annie will either have gone home by now since it's so late or will be sleeping in the guest room.
"No problem," I say instead. "See you there."
I’m exhausted and hungry. I stop to eat a nice, packed hotdog at a nearby gas station. All I want is to check on Marco, take a hot shower, and wash away the night's events. I text Annie that I'm on my way home but get no response.
By the time I pull into my driveway, Franco's black SUV is already there. He stands beside it, talking quietly with Dante who surprisingly arrived before me.
"Everything good?" I ask as I approach them.
Franco nods. "Cleanup is handled. No traces."
"Good." I lead them toward my front door, suddenly remembering that I never properly secured my home office before leaving this morning. If Annie got curious...
But no, she wouldn't. She seemed to understand the boundaries immediately, one of the things that impressed me about her.
I punch in the security code and push open the door, expecting a dark, quiet house. Instead, soft light spills from the kitchen, and the faint sound of music reaches us. A female voice hums along, unaware of our arrival.
Dante and Franco both tense beside me, hands moving toward their weapons.
"Wait," I hiss, suddenly remembering what I should have told them earlier. "That's—"
But it's too late. Annie appears in the hallway, a dish towel in her hands and a startled expression on her face as she takes in the three of us standing in the entryway. Her eyes widen as she registers Franco's imposing height and Dante's cold stare.
"Oh," she says softly. "I didn't hear you come in."
Dante's gaze slides to me, one eyebrow raised in silent question. Franco's hand has moved away from his weapon, but his posture remains alert, assessing.
"Annie," I say, forcing a casual tone into my voice. "I thought you might have gone home."
She shakes her head, seemingly unfazed by the tension radiating from my companions. "Marco had a nightmare around nine. After I got him back to sleep, I figured I should stay since you said you'd be late." Her eyes flick to Dante and Franco. "I hope that was okay."
"Of course," I say quickly. "Annie, these are my... colleagues. Dante and Franco. Guys, this is Annie Harper, Marco's new nanny."
"New nanny," Dante repeats, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp. "A pleasure to meet you, Annie."
Franco merely nods, but I can see him taking in every detail about her—her age, her appearance, the way she holds herself under scrutiny.
Annie, to her credit, doesn't flinch under their examination. "Nice to meet you both. I left some pizza warming in the oven if you're hungry. Marco insisted we save some for his dad."
"That sounds great," I manage to say. "We just have some business to discuss first. In my office."
"Of course." Annie nods, already backing toward the kitchen. "I'll just finish cleaning up and then head to the guest room. Unless you'd prefer I go home now that you're back?"
Before I can answer, Dante speaks up. "No need to leave on our account, Ms. Harper. We won't be long."
His politeness doesn't mask the calculation in his eyes. He wants to observe her, to gauge whether she's a potential risk. Franco's expression tells me he's thinking along the same lines.
"Well then," Annie says with a small smile. "Goodnight, gentlemen."
As she disappears back into the kitchen, Dante turns to me, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"A new nanny? That you forgot to mention? Tonight of all nights?"
Franco crosses his arms, his expression equally displeased. "She looks like she should still be in college."
I run a hand through my hair, knowing I've fucked up. "It happened fast. The agency sent her yesterday; she started this morning. She's good with Marco. And she’s in college, Franco. This is only part-time."
"And clearly made herself right at home," Dante observes, glancing toward the kitchen where Annie can be heard softly humming again. "How much does she know?"
"Nothing," I insist. "She knows not to ask questions. Her father was a cop, undercover work. She gets it."
Franco's eyebrows shoot up. "A cop's daughter? Are you trying to get us all arrested?"
"A dead cop," I clarify, lowering my voice further. "She needs the money to support herself and her mother. The agency vetted her thoroughly."
Dante studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs. "Office. Now. We'll discuss your questionable hiring practices after we handle business."
As we move toward my home office, I glance back toward the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Annie wiping down the counter. For a moment, our eyes meet, and something passes between us—a question, maybe, or a warning.
Then she looks away, and I follow Dante and Franco into my office, closing the door firmly behind us.
I've made a mistake bringing these two worlds together, and I know it. But watching Annie move comfortably around my kitchen, caring for my son, stirred something in me I thought was long dead.
Now I just have to make sure that feeling doesn't get any of us killed.