The Plus-Size Nanny Told the Mafia Boss She Could Love His Children—But One Drawing Exposed the Adviser Who Murdered Their Mother

The carriage house door was blown off its hinges fifteen minutes later.

I was huddled beneath the trapdoor of the subterranean maintenance pit, holding my breath in the darkness, clutching the revolver with both hands.

"Check the cars!" Viktor’s voice echoed from above. "She’s in here somewhere!"

Heavy footsteps pounded on the wooden floorboards right above my head. Flashlight beams flickered through the cracks in the pit cover.

"Nothing in the Jaguar, boss!" a guard called out.

"Search the perimeter!" Julian shouted from the doorway. "If Marco gets word of this before Moretti finishes him, we’re all dead! Find that woman and put a bullet in her head!"

Suddenly, the night erupted into gunfire outside.

Tires screeched viciously across the wet gravel drive. The thunderous roar of high-caliber engines filled the air, accompanied by the shattering of glass and screams of surprise from Julian’s loyalists.

Marco had returned.

The battle for Valente Manor was swift, brutal, and terrifying. Marco hadn't just returned—he had brought his entire elite vanguard. Heavy automatic fire echoed across the courtyard, punctuated by shouting and the metallic crunch of breaking barricades.

"He’s here! Valente is back!" a guard screamed above before a gunshot cut him off.

Footsteps rushed out of the carriage house as Julian’s men attempted to defend themselves.

I pushed open the heavy wooden trapdoor and climbed out of the pit. The carriage house was filled with smoke and the sharp tang of gunpowder. Outside, through the open doorway, I saw black SUVs parked at wild angles, headlights illuminating the pouring rain.

Marco moved through the chaos like a storm incarnate. Dressed in a rain-soaked black coat, he dispatched Julian’s guards with lethal, terrifying precision, moving closer to the main house where Julian was fleeing toward his escape helicopter on the rear helipad.

I ran out into the courtyard, ignoring the wind and rain. "Marco!"

Marco turned instantly. The moment he saw me, the cold, murderous rage in his eyes softened. He sprinted across the muddy lawn, dropping his weapon to his side, and pulled me violently into his arms.

He held me so tightly I could barely breathe, his face buried in my rain-soaked hair.

"You’re safe," he rasped, his voice shaking with an emotion I had never heard from him before. "God, Meline... you’re safe."

"The children—" I gasped out.

"My men have already secured the nursery. They are unharmed," Marco said, pulling back to look at me, his hands cupping my wet cheeks. "Did he hurt you?"

"I’m okay," I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the crumpled, water-stained piece of paper. "Here. This is what Leo drew. Look at it."

Marco unfolded the paper in the glare of the SUV headlights. His eyes locked onto the crude drawing of the golden balance-scale pin beside the tampered car.