She's an Interesting Woman

Francesco's POV

This was the ninth interview in two months, and my patience had long since expired. I had shipping routes to secure, rival syndicates to monitor, and millions moving through laundering channels. 

Sitting in my CCTV control room to watch another incompetent woman whimper in front of a five-year-old was a complete waste of my time.

Diana Popescu. Let’s see what you’re actually made of…

The high-definition monitors showed the Maybach as it glided into the courtyard. The rear door opened, and she stepped out.

Vibrant red hair pinned into a high, slightly messy bun. Sharp, observant green eyes. A vintage crimson dress that hugged long, sculpted legs without being too vulgar. 

She was undeniably beautiful—a natural, dangerous kind of beauty that most men in my line of work would foolishly ruin themselves just to have.

However, it wasn't her appearance that caught my attention.

Any other woman stepping onto Marino soil would be gawking at the fleet of custom sports cars or breathlessly admiring the architecture. Diana didn't give a fuck.

Instead, her green eyes were calculating every movement in the courtyard. She counted my guards. She noted the heavy security perimeters. She even stared directly into the lens of camera four that was hidden near the marble archway.

She wasn't impressed; she was analyzing the compound.

Intrigued, I stood up and exited the control room, stepping quietly out onto the second-floor foyer balcony overlooking the grand entrance.

As Matteo escorted her through the front doors, she continued her silent mapping. Then, without warning, she stopped in her tracks. Her head tilted up, her sharp green gaze locking directly onto the shadowed spot where I stood.

Her instincts were impeccably sharp. She knew she was being watched. I took a small step back into the darkness, my jaw tightening.

Interesting!

I retreated back into the monitoring room, leaning against the console as the feed from the study came alive on the central screen.

Lucia strutted into the interview room like a little tyrant, wearing that annoyingly, rehearsed doll-smile she used right before she destroyed a person's dignity. 

Diana, standing beside Madame Stella, appeared to take the bait just like all the others.

Then came the opening salvo. Clear and dripping with toddler venom:

“You’re ugly!”

A slow, dark smirk curved across my lips. Here it was. Usually, at this exact moment, the candidate’s face would fall. Some would burst into tears; others would desperately try to bribe her with promises of candy or stuffed animals.

Instead, Diana let out a sudden, melodic laugh. It wasn't a nervous one—it was a dry, amused laugh of pure sarcasm.

Aurora’s jaw practically hit the floor. She charged like an angry kitten, folding her small arms tightly across her chest.

“What’s so funny?!”

Diana dropped smoothly down to one knee, bringing her eyes directly level with Lucia's furious face. “You, of course!”

Lucia froze, utterly stunned. In the background of the monitor, Matteo’s rigid posture stiffened, and even Madame Stella looked like she had swallowed her tongue. Nobody spoke to a Marino like that.

I leaned closer to the monitor, a genuine smile breaking through my cold demeanor. This was absolute gold.

With her ego shattered, Lucia immediately deployed phase two: The Prank Warfare.

She marched over to the side table, snatched up a crystal glass filled to the brim with pulp orange juice, walked right back over to Diana, and deliberately dumped it straight down the front of the woman's dress.

Lucia stood back, her eyes wide with malice, waiting for the screaming or the usual crying.

Diana didn't even flinch. She simply looked down at the dark wet stain, shook her head, and let out a soft sigh.

“Is that really the best you’ve got, little lady?” Diana murmured smoothly, a small smirk playing on her lips as she reached out and lightly tapped Lucia's nose. “I guess your juice was just dying to meet my mom's vintage dress.”

Lucia stared at her in utter bewilderment. This was unexpected. The script had been completely thrown out the window.

Frustrated, the little terror shoved her hand deep into her dress pocket, pulled out a realistic, rubber tarantula, and hurled it directly into Diana’s face.

I braced myself for the high-pitched scream. The last nanny from Paris had fainted dead at the sight of a plastic spider.

Diana caught the fake spider mid-air, spinning it between her long fingers before letting out another laugh escape her lips. “Oh, wow. Look.”

“Hey!” Lucia yelled, pointing a trembling finger at her. “You’re supposed to be screaming and running away! Why aren't you scared?!”

In the corner of the screen, Stella turned her head toward the bookshelves, desperately trying to stifle a cough that was very obviously a laugh. Matteo stood frozen like a stone statue.

“Little girl,” Diana scoffed, standing up with so much elegance, “I’m far more terrified of my university tuition fees than a piece of rubber. This is an absolute joke.”

She casually strolled over to the open balcony window and tossed the rubber spider out into the courtyard gardens.

Who the hell are you, Diana Popescu?

Seeing that her plan didn't work out, Lucia went straight for the nuclear option. She turned around and deliberately shoved a hand-carved, four-thousand-dollar antique Venetian vase off its pedestal and it shattered against the floor with a deafening crash….

“Lucia, you little demon!”... I winced slightly. That was a rare 18th-century piece.

Everyone in the room went dead silent in terror. Lucia immediately threw her hands in the air, pointing her small finger accusingly at Diana. “She broke it! She knocked it over!”

I leaned in, waiting to see if Diana would panic, throw a hysterical fit, or scramble to defend herself to Madame Stella.

Diana slowly crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at the little girl with a cool, unbothered expression. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes you did!” Aurora shrieked, her cheeks flushing bright red. “Madame Stella, she threw it!”

“You know, little girl,” Diana said, her voice dropping into a firm but calm tone that commanded total control of the room, “framing other people for your own mess is completely pathetic. If you keep acting like a spoiled bully, you won't have a single real friend in this world.”

A visible shadow of guilt flickered across Lucia’s face. She was exhausted, humiliated, and completely outmaneuvered. Nothing was working. For the first time in her five years of life, she had met her absolute match.

“Why aren't you afraid of me?” Lucia pouted, her small lip trembling as she looked up at the tall redhead lady.

Diana studied the child quietly for a long moment, her green eyes softening just a bit. “Should I be scared of a five-year-old?”

Aurora pretended to think about the question seriously, giving an eager nod.

“Sorry, kid,” Diana chuckled, lightly patting her high ponytail. “Not in this lifetime.”

Lucia wasn't acting out because she hated Diana; she was desperately testing her boundaries to see if this woman, like all the others, would abandon her the moment things got uncomfortable.

Defeated but utterly fascinated by this strange lady, Lucia reached out, grabbing Diana’s thumb in her small fist. Without another word, the terror of the Marino household quietly led her new nanny out of the room toward the grand staircase.

On the screen, Madame Stella was beaming with pure relief and was full of smiles…

The heavy door to the control room burst open. Matteo stepped inside, his eyes glued to the master monitor showing the two of them walking hand-in-hand toward Lucia's wing.

“Well,” Matteo muttered, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Diana certainly proved us wrong. She lasted longer than thirty minutes.”

I ran a heavy hand through my dark hair, letting out a deep exhale. “It hasn't even been two hours, and Lucia is already showing her to her private quarters.”

Matteo shrugged slightly. “I think she actually likes the lady, Boss.”

“Like her?” I scoffed, staring bitterly at the screen. “Lucia doesn't like anyone.”

Yet, I knew Matteo was right. Nobody stepped foot inside Lady Lucia's wing unless you were summoned.

Still, a dark paranoia remained at the back of my mind. Diana Popescu was far too calm, far too sharp, and entirely immune to the tactics that broke ordinary people. A girl from an ordinary background shouldn't possess instincts that sharp.

Could she be a hidden operative? A mole sent by Lorenzo Ricci or maybe the Chicago syndicate? An undercover assassin hiding behind a stunning face and a vintage dress?

Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe my life in the shadows had made me incapable of seeing genuine courage.

I stared at the frozen image of Diana on the monitor—her bold smile, her fierce green eyes, her absolute refusal to kneel.

“Keep a full background check running on her,” I murmured softly to Matteo. “I want every detail of her life on my desk by morning.”

“Yes, Boss. And the contract?, is she hired?”

I turned away from the screens, adjusting the cuffs of my suit.

“Draft it,” I ordered coldly, a rare but dangerous sparkle appearing in my eyes. “She’s an interesting woman.”