Page 8 of Kingpin's Nanny
Ivy passes Bella a plushie unicorn with white hair, and Bella smiles like this is the thing she wants most in the world.
Oh fuck there’s a lump in my throat. Bella would be such a good mother. I can see her with a bump.
My child. I envisage a gaggle of children, Bella standing tucked to my side as we watch them play.
My phone buzzes and I sigh as I check who it is. Artem Moroz, the Mayfair kingpin. Damn. I have more important things to do than talk to him. Like obsess over my new employee.
Today, whatever is happening with the London Mafia Syndicate is an annoyance, even if I am privately amused that they’re called the London Maths Club because the Canary Wharf kingpin couldn’t own the fact he’s a mafia boss, so had everyone pretend to his wife that we were geeks rather than murderers. Can’t say I blame him, and I’ve won a couple of the mathscompetitions for who gets to kill some idiot who thought the stupid nickname of the Syndicate meant they weren’t dangerous.
“Knight.” I answer the phone. A sense of duty and order prevails.
There’s a pause, then comes Artem’s distinctive Russian accent. “Is that you, King’s Cross?”
“Yes.” Unlike many of the London mafia bosses, I like to pretend I’m not entirely characterised by my territory.
“Good, I need your help. I’m going into Sussex.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Not interested in life anymore, huh? There are helplines for this, but it’s not my expertise.”
“Thank you,” he says wryly. “I’m aware of the risks. But there has been a kidnapping, and I might have to go and get her back to keep the peace with a very angry Essex mafia who aren’t keen on their princess being seized from an arranged wedding.”
“Let me introduce you to a little concept I like to call geography.” I watch Bella say something animatedly to Ivy, and my niece grins. “King’s Cross deals with transport to the North. Sussex and Essex are to the East. They’re managed by Liverpool Street.”
“Thank you for the lesson. I was aware.”
There’s a brief silence, and I don’t give a shit. I’m just staring at Bella’s adorable little nose.
“Liverpool Street. She’s a scary bitch,” Artem says.
He’s not wrong. Tiffany Abara works closely with the Essex cartel, and although she’s part of London, she’s hardly a big cuddly bear under a growly facade like the Paddington kingpin.
“I thought since you work together…” he adds ingratiatingly.
“You thought you could ask me to ensure you have safe passage.”
“Da, thank you.” Artem takes my irritated reply as acceptance. “I appreciate your help. My best vodka will be yours next time we meet.”
“Fucker.” The truth is I don’t mind helping the London Maths Club. “Alright.”
I hang up and then talk to Tiffany, as promised. Part of the role of King’s Cross is to smooth journeys in ways not usually seen by anyone else. I didn’t really appreciate that when I took over from Bradford five years ago. I was his second-in-command, but I had to learn quickly that there was more than trains and cargo shipments to the job. There are politics that I’m still far too grumpy to manage effectively, but I’ve grown into someone who is King’s Cross now, for all I would rather be Lucas Knight.
By the time I’m done speaking to Tiffany and making a trade for her help, Bella and Ivy are both sitting on the floor with toy unicorns strewn around them, and giggling together like they’re partners in crime. I think two of the unicorns are flying somewhere, but my cold dead heart refuses to acknowledge that this is cute.
I don’t want to join them. I don’t.
The call with my duty to the London Mafia Syndicate, and being King’s Cross, was a reminder. This is who I am now. I might have been human once, but now I’m a monster.
However much I desire Bella, she’s forbidden. Not just because she’s far too young and innocent for a man like me. Not even because I failed once to take care of someone I loved.
No. Because I’m already obsessed with her. I want her far more than is healthy, and I know how that ends.
This girl is my soulmate. I knew such connections existed—I’ve seen the love between some of the London Mafia bosses and their wives—but I assumed those were about as likely for me as a unicorn-drawn train carriage. Which makes this situation all the more painful.
I will protect Bella Harlow with my life, and from myself. Even if that means keeping a professional distance. Even if it means she can never be mine.
4
BELLA