บททั้งหมดของ The Mafia's Nanny : บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

42Alaric’s POV I sighed a document and pushed it to the side, wanting to dive straight into another document when my phone vibrated with a tone that I had set specifically for Allesio’s texts.“Meet me at the hideout. Now.”I read it once again before dropping my pen and puttimg my phone into my pants pocket as I got up from my chair. I didn’t waste time I heading out of the house at all.I got to Allesio’s hideout barely thirty minutes later. It was a small building tucking into a quiet, dark part of the city. It wasn’t the sort of place anyone would think to look for me, which was the point. Stepping inside, the faint smell of dust and old leather filled my nose and clouded over my senses. Allesio was standing before a table, a grim look on his face as he stared at the stack of papers spread across the table.“Boss,” he greeted, nodding as I approached. “I’ve been following Ferraro as you requested, and I’ve got everything here. And what I have here…I think it’s evidence enough. W

44Alaric’s POV The room was dimly lit, casting shadows over the faces of the gathered men, but that was intentional. I wanted the tension thick, the stakes apparent to everyone seated around the long, polished table. The neutral meeting location, an old mansion off the beaten path, was chosen to ensure no one could claim an advantage of home turf. Guiseppe sat near the head of the table, his expression stormy as he scanned the faces of everyone gathered. Key allies lined the sides, watching in uneasy silence as we prepared to lay bare the betrayal that had snaked its way into our circle.I caught Ferraro’s gaze briefly as I walked in, noting the way he held himself. Confident, almost smug—he didn’t know yet. The traitorous family sat closest to the door, as if they had someplace to be. Good. I wanted them thinking about exits because, by the end of this meeting, they wouldn’t have many left.“Gentlemen,” I said, taking my seat across from Guiseppe, who gave me a nod of acknowledgmen

46Alaric’s POV I leaned back in my chair, staring at the sea of spreadsheets on my laptop screen, barely paying attention as Allesio rattled off a list of last-minute details for the event. In theory, this charity gathering should be simple: a few speeches, a good meal, a little wine, and a lot of handshaking. But when you mix mafia families into the equation, even a simple charity event becomes a delicate balancing act.The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here we were, a room full of criminals, putting on our best smiles for the sake of charity. It wasn’t all smoke and mirrors, though. Despite our reputations, the money raised tonight would go straight to St. Catherine’s Orphanage, a place that had done good work for decades. I’d seen those kids before—lost, scared, desperate for a chance. Giving them that chance was something I could live with, a way to clean a bit of the blood off my hands, even if only symbolically.“Alaric?” Allesio’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Did you hear me?”

48Alaric’s POV The morning started quietly enough, but it didn’t last. It never does. I should have known better than to hope for a quiet day in this world of mine.My phone buzzed, the vibration sharp against the mahogany. I glanced at the screen and saw Allesio’s name flashing on it.“Tell me it’s good news,” I answered, leaning back in my chair. I could hear the noise of the city in the background on his end—traffic, honking, people shouting.“Not quite,” Allesio replied, his voice tight. “We’ve got a problem. A new group stirring things up in the city.”The words hit like a punch to the gut. Problems were nothing new—we were always dealing with something—but a new group? That was different. Unpredictable. I sat up, the tension coiling in my chest like a live wire.“Who are they?” I demanded. “Which family?”“That’s the thing,” Allesio said. “The details are vague. Nobody knows who they are, but they’re making moves—pushing into our territory, hitting a few of our smaller busines

50Alaric’s POV I was shrugging off my shirt when Allesio walked into my room, his face calm but tired. “Emilia is in the study, she wants to talk.”“About what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I put my shirt back on and buttoned it.“I don’t know. She wouldn’t say,” he murmured with a shrug before walking out of the room, not caring if I had anything else to say. I decided to let that go. He was tired. Everyone was tired, even me. And I was supposed to be resting right now but since Emilia wanted to talk…I walked out of the room and headed straight to the study.The moment I walked into the study, I could tell something was off with Emilia. She was standing by the window, wringing her hands together. She always did that whenever she was worried. I’d seen it a few times before, but this was different—she looked almost sick with worry, like she’d been grappling with something for hours. My first instinct was to ask her what was wrong, but I held back, waiting for her to speak.I close