All Chapters of The Mafia's Nanny : Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

221Gianna’s POVThe day had arrived, and I couldn’t decide if I was more nervous or excited. Matteo had been buzzing for days and practically glowing with anticipation about me meeting his sister. I wanted to match his energy, but there was a small part of me that worried about Emilia’s approval. I’d heard enough about her to know she was fiercely protective of Matteo, and while I admired that, it also felt like I was walking into an interrogation.I smoothed my blouse for the fifth time as I glanced around the room. Alaric’s mansion had an elegance to it that still managed to make me feel a little out of place. The lavish décor and high ceilings were impressive, but still I couldn’t help but feel out of place here. I occasionally caught the glimpse of some men walking around with huge guns.Matteo told me that Alaric had insisted that the meeting would take place here, where things could be more relaxed and private. Of course, relaxed wasn’t exactly how I felt, especially with Emili

223Matteo’s POVI paced in the kitchen, the remnants of dinner still sitting in the sink. My jaw tightened as I replayed Emilia’s words over and over in my head. Dinner had been civil—on the surface. But I’d caught the looks and the subtle jabs disguised as polite conversation.She didn’t outright say she disapproved of Gianna, but she didn’t have to. Emilia has always been good at making her opinions known without being direct. And tonight, she’d practically screamed it.Gianna was still in the living room, probably trying to brush off the tension and awkwardness from the day, but I couldn’t let this go. Not anymore.I stormed into the dining room, where Emilia was casually clearing plates, like she hadn’t just undermined my relationship all day.“We need to talk,” I said flatly, narrowing my eyes at her.“Can’t this wait? I’m busy,” she murmured in reply, not even turning around to look at me. But I knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to get out of the conversation and t

225Matteo’s POVI stared at my phone, willing it to light up with a message, a call, anything. But the screen remained dark, the silence stretching longer and heavier with every passing minute.It had been two days since Gianna left the dinner table and, by extension, my life—at least, that’s what it felt like. Two days of her refusing to answer my calls, ignoring my texts, and shutting me out completely.The last message I’d sent was still unread: “Gianna, please. I need to talk to you.”I clenched my jaw, tossing the phone onto the couch next to me. It landed face down with a dull thud, mocking me with its lack of response.This wasn’t like her. Gianna wasn’t the type to play games or hold grudges. She was calm, understanding, always the voice of reason when I let my temper get the better of me. But now, I couldn’t reach her. Not even to say I was sorry for what happened at dinner.And the worst part? I knew exactly who to blame.“Emilia,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand

227Matteo’s POVSitting in the quiet of my apartment, I ran a hand through my hair for the hundredth time, my frustration mounting. Gianna wasn’t responding to my calls or texts, and it was taking everything I had not to show up at her door. But I knew better. Pushing her wouldn’t help.She needed space. And I needed to give her that. To respect her decision. Not push her away further.I stared at my phone screen, the last message I’d sent her still sitting there, unread: Gianna, please talk to me. I’m sorry about everything. I miss you.It felt hollow and inadequate. Words that couldn’t capture what I was really feeling. I tossed the phone onto the coffee table, leaning back into the couch.Her silence was unbearable, and my mind was racing. Gianna was everything to me—her laugh, her fire, the way she made me feel like I could conquer the world. And now, because of some stupid dinner and Emilia’s judgment, I was on the verge of losing her.I couldn’t let that happen.But what could

229Gianna’s POVThe envelope sat on the edge of my kitchen table, and I was still deciding whether I should open it or not. It had been lying there for two days now, and I still hadn’t tore it open. Matteo’s name was scrawled on the envelope in his familiar handwriting and it should feel like a comfort that he had even tried to reach out to me at all, but instead it kind of felt like a challenge. I wanted to read it. I really wanted to, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch it.What if it only made things harder?I sighed and leaned against the counter, staring at the letter like it might burst into flames. My friends had tried to distract me with dinners and movies, but every time I returned home, the envelope was sitting right there, successfully reminding me that I couldn’t forget everything that happened.Picking it up, I traced my fingers over the edges. He didn’t text or call anymore, not since this letter arrived. It felt like he’d poured everything into it, leaving the ball in