The Mafia's Nanny

Untamed Courage

Chapter 4

Anthony

Power is corruption. I learned that from a young age. Watching the men in my family gain power, wealth, status but ultimately loose themselves to the chase. This toxic hunger for more is often seen in "new money" families. The Rivera's are not new money but rather are known to be cursed, a tragedy of the underworld. Every single generation succumbs to a new sin.

I am no different.

The delicate hand on my arm squeezes me and my eyes snap to the side meeting her gaze, her painstakingly, hauntingly beautiful gaze.

"Go," Melissa insists and I realize I am frozen in place. Had been caught staring at where Nova Vega was just standing and was lost in how different she is from the manicured women I find myself surrounded with.

"I don't think she is the right fit," I say glancing at Lily who stands with her head hanging out the doorway to watch Nova leave.

Lily herself might not have ever seen someone like that, a scared kind of brave or a caged kind of freedom. The beauty of her own contradiction was not lost on Nova as she battled her own thoughts to respond half the time.

Suddenly there was a weak slap against my arm and looked up at Melissa with her hair perfectly styled with every strand knowing its place and those big blue eyes reddened from crying.

"She's perfect," Melissa argues as Lily comes around my kneeling form to her mother's chair, "Please Anthony."

The ache starts up again, the timeless fucking ache.

I'm on my feet before I even realize it and out the door in seconds.

Luckily, she must have been stopped on her way out because I quickly catch sight of the swaying of long brown hair and bright-colored outfit. Speed walking down the hallway I reach her in minutes and grabbed a hold of her arm.

Her body whips around faster than I anticipated and we are chest to chest and her glare collides with mine as if she knew it was me. Maybe she did? Maybe she was clever enough to know that Melissa would want to talk to her again.

"What?" she hisses in a low tone.

I ignore the cliche intake of breath from the surrounding staff and instead pause a moment to watch her. The way she hasn't step back, the way her hair refuses to fully straighten as it curls at the ends, and how her eyes never stay on one thing too long.

She is chaos, by definition. Letting her into my orderly and restrained world would mean accepting the rampage in her wake. The way she questions me, speaks to me, challenges me is the exact opposite of the fragile Messlia with her dependency and elegance mixing to be the perfect damsel. Nova is no damsel, she is more damnation, more untamed courage than what I am used to, then that I know how to control.

I hate that. I hate her.

"Wait!" She yells as I pull her with me back towards my office and I know I am taking long strides, I know her steps falter at several points but I don't stop.

She throws commands at me but I can't concentrate on them or I don't know what I would do truly. I suppose I have been sheltered in a way that I have never been intentionally challenged by someone that knew who I was and Judging by the underline of fear she might have a good idea about the true family business.