The Mafia nanny [✓complete]

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Leah's POV

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over my room.

I stretched beneath the covers, my body still aching from the events of the past days.

I had barely managed to convince the kids that I was well enough to get out of bed, but even then, they were hovering over me with a level of concern that was both endearing and slightly overwhelming.

As I slowly made my way downstairs, I was greeted by the sight of the kitchen table set for breakfast.

I smiled and shook my head. They don't quit going this far.

Plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit were arranged neatly, and a small bouquet of wildflowers adorned the center of the table.

"Good morning, Mammy!" Bella exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement, her apron stained with unknown substances.

"Morning, Mammy," Andrea added, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Leah couldn't help but chuckle at their enthusiasm.

"Good morning, you two. This looks amazing, thank you."

I knew if Andrea and Bella looked this dirty...the kitchen is a whole other level.

"We made it all ourselves," Bella declared proudly.

I took a seat at the kitchen island, allowing the kids to help me with my chair.

The kitchen was...um, a little messed...just a tiny bit.

I knew I'd spend at least 4 hours cleaning this lot.

It was both heartwarming and amusing to see them so eager to take care of me.

Gabriel, who had been busy at the stove, finally turned around with a plate in hand.

"Here you go, Mammy," he said, placing the plate of food in front of me.

"Thank you, Gabriel," I replied, touched by their thoughtfulness.

"We even cut the toast into little heart shapes," Bella added, her eyes sparkling.

I looked down at my plate and indeed, the toast was adorned with tiny heart-shaped pieces.

I couldn't help but smile at their attention to detail.

As they all settled into breakfast, I realized that the kids weren't just going to let me eat in peace.

They continued to fuss over me, making sure I had everything I needed and even cutting my food into bite-sized pieces.

"Really, guys, I'm not that helpless," I chuckled, but my protests fell on deaf ears.

After breakfast, the kids insisted on helping me with everything.

They helped clean the kitchen.

They fetched my phone when it rang, typed out messages for me, and even handed me a notepad and pen when they thought speaking might strain my throat.

I found myself both touched and exasperated by their overprotective behavior...'I guess they got something from their fathers' traits' I thought.

I appreciated their concern, but I also didn't want them to worry too much.

I was fine, my leg was much better, my arm...hurt time from to time but better than before.

"Okay, team," I finally said, mustering all the authority I could despite my amusement.

"I think I can manage typing on my phone and speaking now. You don't have to do everything for me."

"But we want to help," Bella protested.