The Mafia nanny [✓complete]

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Leah's POV

"Hey mom" I hugged her. I then hugged my dad, "Hey Dad."

"Hey princess" my dad smiled.

"Stop pampering her, Pedro" my mother scolded my dad.

"What? I see my little princess after so long" my father protested.

I laughed. It's true though, it's been a year and 2 months since I've seen them face to face.

"Anyway how are you Leah?" my mom smiled looking at me.

"Great actually" I returned her smile.

It's true, I'm actually doing great. If only they could know why.

"Let's get to the car then," I offered to help my mother with one suitcase.

They nodded and we watered walking.

"So anything new happened?" my father asked as we strode.

"Um, no. Nothing much" I shook my head.

I had told myself to pretend for today and tomorrow I'd explain every single thing.

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We had stopped at my parent's hotel to leave their stuff there.

"Why don't we go to a restaurant, I know one nearby" I suggested, recalling a restaurant a few blocks away.

"The food there is amazing, I'm sure both of you would love it."

My mother hesitated, "I don't know, Leah. Maybe we should stick to something simpler."

My das, always one to enjoy new experiences, chimed in with enthusiasm.

"Come on, Maria. It's been a while since we've had a nice meal. Let's treat ourselves a little."

"Excuse me, it's been a while since you've had a nice meal?" my mother crossed her arms across her chest.

My father realising what he said quickly said, "Ah Maria, you know that's not what I mean."

I had to give my laugh.

"Oh really, so my food is that bad" She raised an eyebrow.

My father just looked at me pleading for help.

I joined in, "Mom, let's just go enjoy a good lunch together. We don't get to do this often."

"Oh, so now both of you think my food is bad?" she asked giving a death stare.

My father and I just looked at each other and shrugged.

"Both of you!" she scolded, taking a pillow and hitting both of us with them.

We both tried to talk but we were muffled by her hitting us with the pillow.

"Mom, okay" I put my hands up in surrender.

"We didn't mean your food is bad, it's great" I started.

"Like a world-renowned chef," my father added giving a chef's kiss.

"Yeah," I nodded.

My mother regarded us with amusement "Fine, but only if you two promise not to order the entire menu," she relented, her tone teasing but firm.

My father and I exchanged mischievous grins, playfully nudging each other as we tried to stifle our laughter.

"We promise Mom," I assured her, trying my best to sound sincere.

We headed out of the hotel, my father continued to make jokes about our dinner plans, while my mother rolled her eyes in good-natured exasperation.

The mini-fights between them were a familiar atmosphere, a comforting theme that emphasized the moments we shared as a family.