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Chapter 6

Annika…

Out of instinct, I started biting down on my lower lip. Looking at this man behind me would make anyone nervous, although I am a little afraid I won’t dare to show it in front of him. I felt his hand’s grip loosen until it slid up my neck, landing on my chin. His thumb pulled down on my lip, and a small smirk appeared on his face as he looked at me.

I was about to tell him to get his hands off me when his deep voice interrupted me.

“Why are you down here in my living room?” he asks as his eyes trail back to mine. I rolled my eyes at this stupid question but the look on his face told me to just tell him.

“Because your sister told me to,” I bit out a bit annoyed.

“Ah, my sister,” he mumbles more to himself. He let go of me and walked around the couch, taking a seat across from me. I waited for him to break the silence, hoping he would say it was all just a joke and that I could go back to my life.

“You are lucky she was the one who told you to sit here; otherwise, I would have thrown you back into the basement.”

“Come with me,” he said as he stood up and began to walk away. I looked at him, confused, before I started walking after him. His long legs took large strides as my much smaller ones struggled to keep up. We climbed a few flights of stairs, down the hallway, and up another flight of stairs. We finally stopped in front of a big, dark brown door, and a frown made its way to my face, wondering why he took me here.

He looked down at me as he twisted and pushed the doorknob, successfully opening the mysterious door. “Come in; there are a few things we need to discuss,” he says as he waits for me to enter and much to my surprise, it was an office.

“Have a seat,” he typically demanded. I would have asked for some manners if I was up for another fight but instead I kept my mouth shut. I sat across from him, and he opened a file.

“So I see your name is Annika Smit and that you are from South Africa, working here at one of our hospitals as a child psychologist. I assume you still have a family on that side." He asked, taking me by surprise.

“Yes, I am one of the best child psychologists, and both my parents and three siblings are still living back in South Africa.”

“Great,” he whispered but I could still hear him.

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, wondering what he meant by that statement.

“You already know that you will be looking after my kids but I didn’t think that you would have family that would be looking for you,” he began, dragging his hands through his hair.

I didn’t answer him; instead, I waited for him to continue, “Right, I will make a deal with you. Instead of kidnapping you and making you stay here, I want you to consider living here as a live-in nanny. You will of course be able to contact your family and friends but under no circumstances are you allowed to tell them why you work for me and what you heard about me from my sister.” He was still talking when his phone suddenly rang. He looked at me and quickly got up before moving to a close door, disappearing behind it.

I wonder what is going on inside his head. Why does he need a nanny? And why me?

The door opens and I hear the sound of heels against the tile floor.

“And who are you?” I hear a woman’s cold voice. I looked behind me and saw an angry-looking woman staring at me.

“I am.” I was just about to answer when she held her hand up, showing me to shut up.

“Let me guess the nanny."

I nodded my head, unsure of how to answer her. She walked past my chair and went to take a seat in the opposite chair.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked with a smirk.

I looked over at the woman who had dark, raven black hair; her eyes were a dark brown color, almost looking black. She looked like a model but her personality stinks. I wasn’t going to answer her so instead I said, “No, I am sorry, Mam, but I don’t know who you are.”

This seemed to piss her off as she held her left hand towards me, tapping on the huge ring on her finger with her right hand. “I am Mr. Cattaneo’s wife, Blanche, and the mother of our three children!” She almost yelled, as if that were supposed to mean something to me.

Oh! Wait. She thinks I want her husband.

I was just about to tell her that I had no interest in her husband when the door opened from the other side of the room.

“Blanche! What the fuck are you doing in here?” I heard the very pissed-off voice of none other than Raffaele.

“I can come and go as I please, besides when you plan on telling me that you have hired a new nanny!” Blanche said, glaring at her husband.

“I don’t need to tell you anything; now get out of my office before I throw you out!” he threatened, walking up to Blanche. She gave him a sweet smile before looking at me and glaring, almost like telling me to back off.

Raffaele seems tense after his wife left, almost like he wanted to murder her. “I am sorry about that but now you have met my soon-to-be ex-wife, Blanche." I could only nod my head as I looked at him.

“Like I said before we were interrupted, I won’t hold you back from your family but you can’t tell them anything that you have heard here. I would like it if you lived as a stay-at-home nanny since Blanche and I are gone most of the time. I have three children, like I already told you.”

“Where are the other two now?” I asked when I realized I had only met Enzo.

“They are in school until half past one. The eldest one is a girl; her name is Caterina, and she is fifteen years old. Then there is my other son, who is thirteen years old; his name is Romeo and you have already met Enzo, who is five years old. If you accept my proposal, I will show you to your room.” He looked at me and I knew he was waiting for my reply.

“Why do you need me as a nanny if you can hire anyone out there? Besides, you can’t threaten me into becoming your nanny. I already have a job that I love. I can’t just quit my job.”

He smirked as I said those words: “That is where you are wrong. You know how the inside of my house looks, and if my enemies know that you know, then it will be just a matter of time before they get information from you,” he paused. “And for your job at the hospital, consider yourself fired.”

I looked at him with wide eyes and asked, “What do you mean fired?” I was shocked.

“I am your boss.”

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