I don't appreciate tardiness, especially in my workers. That nanny chic is testing my patience, and I don't have a lot of it. I missed work last time because Matteo was fussy, and she was not here yet. That was unprofessional.
“Boss, what do we do about Roberta's family?”
My late wife's family has been asking questions. I didn't give a damn. I don't answer to anyone.
“Let them ask. She ran away with her boyfriend and dumped her child with me,” I said with a tone of finality.
“Yes, boss.”
We were currently in my office as I had some paperwork to catch up on.
I looked over at the glass window and saw Ms. Abbot carrying my son. He was smiling. He must really like her.
“Look at him, Sebastian. My son is actually smiling.” I placed the pen down on the file and stood up, walking over to the window.
“Appears so, boss. The young master loves his nanny already. He doesn't like to be away from her.”
“Hmmmm, I see.”
“Boss, there's something else you need to know.”
I turned my attention to Sebastian.
“Speak.”
“The nanny is asking questions about your son's mother.”
My eyes darkened as I turned sharply to look at her. She sat down in the garden with her legs stretched out while my son lay on her outstretched legs. His head lay near her feet while his little feet kicked around, trying to reach her stomach. She held a storybook in her hands.
“What did you tell her?” I asked Sebastian. My jaw ticked in anger as I clenched my fists.
“I told her the baby's mother died during childbirth.”
“Good.”
I looked back at her. She had better mind her business; I wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in her. “You may leave now.” I signaled with a wave of my hand.
He bowed slightly before leaving.
I took a good look at her. Like a really close look at her features. She was beautiful, I can't deny that.
She had wavy blond hair, full pink lips, a nice set of teeth which she was putting on full display now as she smiled down at my son, ignorant of the fact that I could see her.
Her body was curvy. I noticed that too: the perfect tits, hips, and ass. She was a nice sight.
But something about her irritated me to no end; I can't actually pinpoint what.
My phone rang, snapping me out of my weird thoughts.
“Hello, mother.” I walked over to the bottle of whisky lying on my table to pour myself a glass, as I still held onto the phone. I need that drink now.
“Sandro, what's this I'm hearing about your wife?”
“What have you heard, mother?” I asked while putting a few ice cubes into my drink.
“I heard she's missing; she ran away with her young lover, your driver, and left Matteo with you,” she replied sharply. I could feel the distaste coming from her voice.
Mother never liked Roberta. She said she was a gold digger and, in her own words, “A no-good tramp.”
“Don't worry, mother, I caught her.” I sat back in my seat and placed my drink on my desk as I swiveled my seat to look over at the garden.
“Where is she? I'll give her a piece of my mind.” Mother was mad. “Don't worry, mother, there will be no need for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I killed her, I killed them both.”
“Alessandro Rossi! What have you done!!” she screamed over the line.
“That's her punishment, mother; she crossed the leader of the Italian mafia. That's the price of her disrespect.”
“What if this action sets off a chain of bad reactions, Sandro?” She has calmed down a bit now. “I'm the fucking Don of the Italian mafia, mother; nothing scares me.”
“Alright, Alessandro, I'll be coming to New York with Bianca soon.”
I sucked in a harsh breath at the mention of my sister's name. She was a handful.
“Alright, mother, I'll have the maids get your room ready.”
I hung up the call, placing the phone back on my desk. I turned to look at the garden.
My son had finally fallen asleep. The nanny held him to her chest so his head could rest on her chest as she slowly made her way up from the ground.
As she slowly got up, my eyes saw something peeking out. She had a tattoo on her waist. That's interesting. Little Miss Prim and Proper was not afraid of a little ink.
She gently carried him back into the house and into his room.
I picked up my phone to call one of my men.
“Carlo, what's the update?”
“Boss, one of the shipments has arrived but it seems the other was held at the Russian borders.” “Fuck!”
These bloody Russians were testing my patience.
“And you didn't think I deserved to know the latest about my shipments, Carlo?
“Sorry, boss, we were trying to find out if the package had not been tampered with.”
I pinched my eyebrows with my thumb and index finger.
These Russians were giving me a migraine.
“And?”
“They're complete and in good condition, boss.”
“And the shotguns?”
“Just like you wanted, boss.”
“Good.”
“I'll be at the warehouse soon.”
—--------
I arrived at the warehouse with Sebastian and walked in to personally inspect my goods.
“This way, boss,” Carlo led me to it.
“Why does it look this way?” I asked as I picked up a rifle. It had inscriptions on it. More like Russian writings.
I looked at it closely before realizing it was a warning.
“I'M WATCHING YOU.”
I picked up every one of these guns, and they held the same writing.
“How the fuck did you not see these?” I threw it to one of the guys as he caught and inspected them.
“Sorry, boss, I just thought it was customized.” “Well, it isn't, you fool. You, fix this mess.”
I ran my fingers aggressively through my hair. Someone was onto me. A fucking Russian, I suspect.
Sebastian had left. He said he needed to check on our other warehouse. I called him, and he picked on the second ring.
“Sebastian, where are you?” I queried into the line.
“Boss, the warehouse has been destroyed, and our men stationed there have been killed.” “Find out the fucker behind this.”
“Yes, capo.”
“Fuck!” I smashed the phone into the nearby wall.
—----
I arrived home and strode directly into my office. I needed a drink.
I poured myself a bottle of whisky and downed the whole glass in one gulp. It burned like hell, but it was exactly what I needed.
I can't remember how many glasses I've consumed at this point, but my head was spinning, and I felt hot all over.
I didn't understand the feeling. Normally I could handle my alcohol, but tonight it was different. I felt hot and wasted. My vision was blurry, and everywhere was spinning.
I needed to retire for the night. I held strongly onto the edges of my desk as I maneuvered my way around it. The AC was at its highest, but it did nothing to stop the heat.
I stumbled to the door, opened it, made my way over to the other side, and headed for my room.
Before I could get to my room from my office, I reached a door that was half open. I stopped and looked into the room, and I was stunned at what I saw.