No Nanny Lasted Two Days With the Mafia Boss’s Triplets Until a Broke Single Mom Walked In and Changed Everything

By eight o'clock Sunday morning, the fire had been completely extinguished by three local fire departments.

The west wing of the estate was a blackened, ruined shell, but the main structure remained standing, strong and immovable against the morning sun.

A fleet of black SUVs sat in the driveway, while paramedics checked the children in the grand foyer. All four children had been declared completely unharmed, suffering only minor coughs from light smoke inhalation.

In the master bedroom suite on the second floor—a massive room lined with dark mahogany and soft white linens that had escaped the fire—Hannah sat on the edge of a massive king-sized bed.

She was wearing one of Dominic’s soft black cotton t-shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants, a sterile bandage wrapped around her right hand where she had touched the hot balcony railing.

The door opened softly.

Dominic stepped inside. He had washed his face, though faint traces of soot still lingered around his hairline. He was dressed in a simple black shirt, his arms bare, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.

He carried a small wooden tray containing a bowl of fresh strawberries, a cup of tea, and an official white envelope.

He walked over and set the tray on the nightstand beside her.

"How are your hands?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her.

"They sting a little," Hannah said, offering a soft smile. "The doctor said the salve will prevent scarring."

Dominic looked down at the white envelope on the tray.

"That's your check," he said softly. "Ten thousand dollars. Paid from my personal account. Your landlord in Queens was paid in full three hours ago, and his eviction filing has been permanently expunged by my legal team."

Hannah looked at the envelope.

This was what she had come for. The money that would save her life, secure her apartment, and allow her to take Sophie back to their quiet, normal routine in Queens.

Her hand drifted toward the envelope, but she didn't pick it up.

"Your contract was for one week," Dominic continued, his raspy voice dropping into a low, painful register. "You fulfilled your duties. You saved my sons. You gave them back their lives. You don't owe this family another second."

He stood up, walking toward the large window that looked out over the sunlit rear gardens. His back was turned to her, his broad shoulders hunched as if he were carrying the weight of the entire world.

"A private car is waiting downstairs to take you and Sophie back to Queens whenever you are ready," he said.

Hannah stared at his back.

"Are you firing me, Mr. Vale?" she asked quietly.

Dominic flinched. He didn't turn around. "I am giving you your freedom, Hannah. This house is dangerous. My life is dangerous. You belong in a world where people don't set fires or threaten children."

Hannah stood up from the bed. She didn't pick up the check. She walked across the hardwood floor until she was standing directly behind him.

"And what about Lucas?" she asked softly. "Who is going to make sure he doesn't throw porcelain at the next nanny?"

Dominic didn't answer.

"And Mason?" she continued, taking another step closer. "Who is going to make sure he eats his soup?"

Dominic’s hands clutched into fists at his sides.

"And Theo?" Hannah whispered, reaching out, resting her small, bandaged hand right between his shoulder blades. "Who is going to wear his pink satin bows?"

Dominic turned around so fast it took her breath away.

He looked down at her face, his gray eyes burning with an intense, overwhelming emotion that made her pulse race.

"Don't do this, Hannah," he rasped, his hands hovering near her waist, wanting to touch her but terrified of dragging her deeper into his dark world. "Don't be kind to me. I am a dangerous man."

"You're not dangerous to me," Hannah said, stepping right up into his space, resting her forehead against his chest. "You stood under a burning balcony and caught four children with your bare hands. You protected my daughter. You held me when I was terrified."

Dominic let out a low, ragged groan, dropping his head, resting his forehead against hers.

"I need you," Dominic confessed, the words tearing out of his chest like a physical force. "Not just for the boys. God help me, Hannah... I need you. If you walk out those doors today, this house goes back to being a grave."

Hannah reached up, her small, bandaged hands framing his jaw, pulling his face down until his lips were inches from hers.

"Then stop trying to send me away," she whispered.

Dominic didn't hesitate.

He closed the small distance between them, bringing his lips down onto hers in a deep, desperate, possessive kiss that wiped away four years of cold grief, pain, and isolation. He wrapped his massive arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off her feet, pulling her so tight against his body that she couldn't tell where his heartbeat ended and hers began.

Hannah kissed him back with everything she had, her fingers tangling in his thick black hair, surrendering completely to the terrifying, beautiful warmth of the man who had claimed her heart.

When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together in the quiet room.

"Stay," Dominic begged softly, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones. "Stay here. Be my nanny. Be their mother. Be my wife. Anything you want, Hannah. Just don't leave me."