Page 66
Story: Protecting My Nanny
"Listen, Shane," he says, his voice hard but steady. "These guys don't mess around. If you go waving your money in their faces, they'll bleed you dry or put you in a box."
He takes a deep breath, and I try to do the same. Both of us recognize the stubbornness in the other, but neither of us is willing to back down.
"We're friends," Mike continues, his tone calmer now, trying to reach me. "So I'm telling you this because I hope you'll use that smart brain of yours and see reason. This shit that Nicole's wrapped up in, it's major. You don't want to get yourself any deeper than you already are."
"Then tell me what's really going on," I press, leaning forward, desperate for answers.
"This is confidential," he says, his voice lowering. "We think Raffaele is planning to make a move on the leader of the local syndicate."
"Le Ombre?" I ask, the name sending a chill through me.
"Yeah," Mike confirms. "We're still trying to locate where the hit might go down, and the Velvet Mirage is one of the places our leads keep pointing to."
"What does Nicole have to do with all this?" I ask, the question gnawing at me.
"We don't know yet," he admits. "But it's suspicious as hell that, given her connections, she ups and disappears right when all of this is about to go down."
"So, what, you think she's involved?" My voice rises with frustration.
"We don't know," Mike says carefully. "But whether she's a distraction or something more, until she proves otherwise, she's on their side in our eyes. We have plans to make a clean arrest and minimize casualties, but your involvement and raising suspicion could jeopardize everything."
"I want to be there when you make the arrest," I insist, my voice tight with determination. "If she sees me, maybe she'll know she's safe, that we're there to help—"
"Absolutely not," Mike cuts me off sharply. "If she contacts you at any point before we move in, you call me immediately. Don't do anything stupid, Shane."
"Okay," I submit. "I'll stay out of the way."
I can tell from the look on his face that he doesn't believe I'll keep my word. He's a good detective, after all.
"Jaime's still under our protection, if you want it, until this blows over," Mike adds. "And so are you. My suggestion? Go be with your family. I'll call you the minute we have something concrete."
"Thanks, Mike," I mutter, standing up to leave. But my mind is spinning as I walk out of his office, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders like a lead blanket. Assassinations. Nicole mixed up with these monsters. It feels like my entire life has spiraled into chaos.
I let out a deep breath once I'm back in my car, pulling out my phone to text Marie:
On my way.
My father's stepmother has always been different from the rest of the family she married into. Marie had been one of the few reliable figures for me and Claire growing up—a kind soul, a grounding presence. The last time I saw her was at Claire's funeral, where she'd expressed doubt about me raising Jaime. She'd admitted, though, that her constant traveling wouldn't be the best for a child Jaime's age. She returned from Montenegro about a week ago, wanting to spend time with him. I agreed. Getting Jaime out of town for a while seemed like the safest option, especially given the circumstances, and I trust her completely. Our new nanny, Allison, went with them. Gladys, understandably, needed some distance from the chaos.
The hotel I booked for them is a few hours outside the city—Mike's suggestion. High tourism, low crime. Knowing I can afford to keep them safe and comfortable gives me peace of mind. Still, as I drive the three hours to the hotel, I can't shake the haunting thoughts about all the people who can't escape danger, who don't have the means to protect their loved ones.
When I finally pull up to the grand hotel, its elegance washes over me. The place looks like something out of a dream, with its fine furniture, soft lighting, and a live pianist playing in the lobby. The air smells of expensive perfume and polished wood, a far cry from the tension choking me back in the city. I take a deep breath and head up to the 12th floor.
As I enter the room, I find Jaime and Marie sitting on the couch, watching cartoons. Both their heads turn as I walk in, and Jaime immediately leaps up and rushes over to hug me.
"Hey, buddy! I missed you," I say, scooping him up. "You being good for Grandma Marie and Allison?"
Marie smiles warmly, watching us. "Hi, grandson," she says.
"Hey, Marie," I reply, setting Jaime down. "Where's Allison?"
"She's getting Jaime's bath ready," Marie responds with a nod toward the bathroom.
Jaime tugs at my sleeve, motioning me to lean closer. "I gotta tell you a secret," he whispers. I lean down, and he cups his hands around my ear. "I don't like Allison. I want Nicole back."
My heart clenches at his words, but I manage a soft smile. "I'm sure she misses you too, buddy."
Allison's voice floats in from the bathroom. "Jaime, it's bath time!"
He takes a deep breath, and I try to do the same. Both of us recognize the stubbornness in the other, but neither of us is willing to back down.
"We're friends," Mike continues, his tone calmer now, trying to reach me. "So I'm telling you this because I hope you'll use that smart brain of yours and see reason. This shit that Nicole's wrapped up in, it's major. You don't want to get yourself any deeper than you already are."
"Then tell me what's really going on," I press, leaning forward, desperate for answers.
"This is confidential," he says, his voice lowering. "We think Raffaele is planning to make a move on the leader of the local syndicate."
"Le Ombre?" I ask, the name sending a chill through me.
"Yeah," Mike confirms. "We're still trying to locate where the hit might go down, and the Velvet Mirage is one of the places our leads keep pointing to."
"What does Nicole have to do with all this?" I ask, the question gnawing at me.
"We don't know yet," he admits. "But it's suspicious as hell that, given her connections, she ups and disappears right when all of this is about to go down."
"So, what, you think she's involved?" My voice rises with frustration.
"We don't know," Mike says carefully. "But whether she's a distraction or something more, until she proves otherwise, she's on their side in our eyes. We have plans to make a clean arrest and minimize casualties, but your involvement and raising suspicion could jeopardize everything."
"I want to be there when you make the arrest," I insist, my voice tight with determination. "If she sees me, maybe she'll know she's safe, that we're there to help—"
"Absolutely not," Mike cuts me off sharply. "If she contacts you at any point before we move in, you call me immediately. Don't do anything stupid, Shane."
"Okay," I submit. "I'll stay out of the way."
I can tell from the look on his face that he doesn't believe I'll keep my word. He's a good detective, after all.
"Jaime's still under our protection, if you want it, until this blows over," Mike adds. "And so are you. My suggestion? Go be with your family. I'll call you the minute we have something concrete."
"Thanks, Mike," I mutter, standing up to leave. But my mind is spinning as I walk out of his office, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders like a lead blanket. Assassinations. Nicole mixed up with these monsters. It feels like my entire life has spiraled into chaos.
I let out a deep breath once I'm back in my car, pulling out my phone to text Marie:
On my way.
My father's stepmother has always been different from the rest of the family she married into. Marie had been one of the few reliable figures for me and Claire growing up—a kind soul, a grounding presence. The last time I saw her was at Claire's funeral, where she'd expressed doubt about me raising Jaime. She'd admitted, though, that her constant traveling wouldn't be the best for a child Jaime's age. She returned from Montenegro about a week ago, wanting to spend time with him. I agreed. Getting Jaime out of town for a while seemed like the safest option, especially given the circumstances, and I trust her completely. Our new nanny, Allison, went with them. Gladys, understandably, needed some distance from the chaos.
The hotel I booked for them is a few hours outside the city—Mike's suggestion. High tourism, low crime. Knowing I can afford to keep them safe and comfortable gives me peace of mind. Still, as I drive the three hours to the hotel, I can't shake the haunting thoughts about all the people who can't escape danger, who don't have the means to protect their loved ones.
When I finally pull up to the grand hotel, its elegance washes over me. The place looks like something out of a dream, with its fine furniture, soft lighting, and a live pianist playing in the lobby. The air smells of expensive perfume and polished wood, a far cry from the tension choking me back in the city. I take a deep breath and head up to the 12th floor.
As I enter the room, I find Jaime and Marie sitting on the couch, watching cartoons. Both their heads turn as I walk in, and Jaime immediately leaps up and rushes over to hug me.
"Hey, buddy! I missed you," I say, scooping him up. "You being good for Grandma Marie and Allison?"
Marie smiles warmly, watching us. "Hi, grandson," she says.
"Hey, Marie," I reply, setting Jaime down. "Where's Allison?"
"She's getting Jaime's bath ready," Marie responds with a nod toward the bathroom.
Jaime tugs at my sleeve, motioning me to lean closer. "I gotta tell you a secret," he whispers. I lean down, and he cups his hands around my ear. "I don't like Allison. I want Nicole back."
My heart clenches at his words, but I manage a soft smile. "I'm sure she misses you too, buddy."
Allison's voice floats in from the bathroom. "Jaime, it's bath time!"
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