The Mafia's Nanny (SPG)
Marimar Oquendo crosses paths with the hot son of a deceased famous actress, who appears to be suffering from a mental illness but understands her pain and desires.
She works as his personal nanny, babysits him, and gradually falls for him. She then realizes that he is far more dangerous than she believed, especially since he has suddenly returned to his genuine and normal personality.
He was totally out of her league when she discover that he was Lev Dmitri Romanov, the Romanov Mafia's grim reaper-a murderer and mafia billionaire.
What will happen to her after she runaway from the man while being pregnant of their child?
Will she be able to forget that she had once been the Mafia's nanny?
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Chapter 6
Marimar Oquendo's Point of View
It was my third day at the mansion. I'd woken up early to prepare Levi's favorite snack-something he could have the moment he mentioned it. I was adjusting to this new life well enough, though I still felt a bit out of place. After all, I grew up with very little, and suddenly I was living in a mansion. Anyone would feel clueless in my shoes.
I hadn't even explored the whole place yet. Yesterday, we spent the entire day in Levi's room from sunrise to sunset. The exhaustion from watching him and playing with him was intense; I nearly collapsed! He tried to ride on my back because he said I looked like a horse. I almost broke my ribs under his weight-absolute madness!
I wouldn't mind a strong, handsome man taking charge of me, but not like that. I thought I'd die when we crashed to the floor with him perched on my back.
That night, I tried to get him to sleep. I sang to him for over an hour and think I nearly lost my voice in the process. But good grief-he didn't even look sleepy! We stayed up until midnight, but Pandesal couldn't have cared less. The boy has energy for days. When I could barely keep my eyes open, I brought him to my room and explained we needed to rest because it was late. I'm not usually calm when I speak, but I talked to him gently in a way that made sense for his age. In the end, we managed to fall asleep-and he was still dozing when I left the kitchen.
I was heading out with a bottle of milk when I spotted one of the household staff. I gave her a warm smile, and she returned it before we passed each other. I hadn't had much chance to talk to the other workers; I'd been too busy with my hyperactive charge. I'd try to strike up a conversation when I had free time.
I was breathless by the time I reached the second floor and stood outside my room. I pressed a hand to my chest, worn out. Good grief! Why is this mansion so huge? I felt like I'd run a marathon with how much I was sweating and panting.
I quietly opened the door and stepped inside. The room was bright from the harsh morning sun streaming through the windows. I bit my lip when I saw my charge-his shirt was hiked up, and the blanket had slid off his body, revealing his perfectly round belly that looked just like freshly baked pandesal on this cool morning.
I stifled a giggle as I walked over to the bed and set the milk on the side table. I planted my hands on my hips, looking down at his peaceful sleeping face. My gaze drifted to his belly-those little rolls were truly perfect for breakfast. Oh no, Marimar! Stop being silly and focus on your job.
I argued with myself in my head. I couldn't shake the urge to poke his belly and see if it was firm. It's hard to believe Levi has such a nice build when all he does is play and eat, but maybe Mr. Streeter takes him to the gym-he looks like he works out a lot. Still, just one poke. It couldn't hurt.
I bit my lower lip and checked Levi's face to make sure he was still asleep. Once I was certain, my eyes fixed on the tempting sight in front of me. I had to make the most of this chance-it would be a waste otherwise. Besides, it's payback! He's always poking at my chest while we watch Cocomelon. This is justice, gender equality!
I didn't waste another second. I slowly reached out and pressed my finger to his belly. Oh my God-no way! "F-for real?" I whispered, my eyes wide as saucers before I poked the other little rolls-his abs, to be exact. Good Lord! It's true-so firm!
That's when the door swung open. I froze in shock, too flustered to move.
"What are you doing?"
I slowly turned to face the voice, and my heart nearly stopped at the sight of Mr. Streeter with his eyebrows raised high. Sir-why are you still here?!
"I-I was fixing Levi's shirt, sir. Did you need something?" I lied quickly. Please work, please work.
It seemed to do the trick-his expression softened. "If a psychiatrist comes by, do not let Levi see them. I'll tell the guards too, but if someone slips through, do your job and hide my brother from them." He spoke seriously.
I just nodded in response, and he left right away. I let out a huge breath-I'd been holding it so tight.
I turned to Levi, who looked like he was waking up. He was stretching his arms with his eyes still closed.
Why couldn't Levi see a psychiatrist? I shook my head as new questions formed in my mind. No matter how many I had, I knew the chance of getting answers was slim. It was better to set them aside and focus on my job-the one that would help me build a better life.
"Milk?" I heard my charge say.
I smiled as I picked up the bottle and handed it to him. He beamed with joy before snatching it from my hand.
I knew cold milk straight from the fridge wasn't good for Levi every morning, but it was all I could find there besides bottled varieties.
Then I remembered what Mr. Streeter had given me earlier. I pulled out the wallet and looked at it, then back at Levi. A smile spread across my face.
That's right! I'd take him shopping and out for the day. His brother had given me permission, so it should be fine.
"Levi," I called to get his attention. "Would you like to go out with Nanny today?" I asked in a voice suited for talking to a child.
He nodded excitedly. "Yay!" he said, then sat up and stood beside me. My jaw dropped at how tall he was-he came up to my shoulder!
"Alright then, come on. Let's get you a bath first, okay?" I said, taking his sturdy arm to guide him to the bathroom in my room.
He nodded again, and I smiled. Thank goodness he listened to me; it made things so much easier. I hoped things would stay this way so I could have a peaceful life here.
Once we were inside the bathroom, I got everything ready for him. The room was fully stocked with supplies-even unopened soap and shampoo-so I decided he could wash up here while I fetched his clothes.
"You take your bath, okay? Nanny will be back in a minute with your clothes." I smiled as I spoke.
He nodded once more, so I closed the door and headed straight to his room. I gathered his things, and my face nearly flushed when I picked up his boxers. They looked expensive-could I sell one if I needed to?
I hurried back and waited a few minutes before I thought he might be done. When I figured the time was right, I opened the bathroom door myself.
"Come on now-oh my God!" My eyes went wide at what I saw. Levi was completely naked, water dripping from his body as he stood under the shower.
Lord! Earlier it was pandesal, now there's a hotdog too! He's made a full breakfast out of himself.
"N... Nanny-it hurts," he said, pointing to his erect private area.
I felt my soul leave my body in shock. I'd never seen anything like this before.
"Nanny... m-make the boo boo go away-please," he said again.
I froze where I stood. Prophets, angels in heaven, and my Lord-forgive me, but my eyes are no longer pure!
Lord, what do I do?!
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9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
9.2
I realized my husband did not love me the moment he stepped over my broken heart to answer a text from his mistress.
Caleb was the "Architect," a feared Capo in New York, but he forgot that I was the one who funded his rise from the gutter with my inheritance.
He brought his assistant, Kimberly, into our private penthouse. She wore my silk robe, mocked my past trauma, and snapped my dead mother’s rosary right in front of my eyes.
When I lashed out in grief, Caleb didn't defend me.
He pinned me against the wall, comforting her while calling me "unstable" and "violent."
He gaslighted me, claiming I would be eaten alive without his protection. He thought I was just a fragile princess who would crumble without him.
He truly believed he was the king, forgetting that I was the one who built the castle.
I didn't cry. I simply wiped the blood from my arm and walked out the door.
He didn't know that I owned thirty percent of his laundering front and the land beneath his precious casino.
I picked up the phone and dialed the number of his deadliest rival, the Irish mob.
"The bank is closed, Caleb. I’m selling my shares to the enemy."
9.7
[{EXCERPT}]
"Are you trying to seduce me?"
Alana froze.
Roman's gaze dragged slowly over her body, dark and deliberate.
"The contract explicitly states that you are not allowed to seduce me," he said calmly. "You did read it... didn't you?"
Confusion flickered across her face.
Then his eyes dropped again.
"You do realize," he added, voice lowering, "that you're half naked right now?"
Alana's breath caught as she looked down at herself.
.......
After escaping the suffocating grip of her abusive family, Alana believes she's finally free. But freedom comes at a price.
Roman Ashford is everything she should avoid. A cunning billionaire. New York's most eligible bachelor. A man whose name alone unsettles the entire business world.
One unexpected encounter pulls her into his orbit, binding her to him in a dangerous arrangement as his fake girlfriend for thirty-one days.
But just as she begins to find her footing, her past comes back to choke her.
To secure the inheritance her late father left behind before her mother claims it, Alana has only one option.
She needs a husband, and fast.
With time running out, she makes a reckless decision and turns to the one man she should never trust.
Will Roman accept her proposal...
or will stepping into his world be her utter ruin?
9.0
Framed for corporate spying, Liana Bennett was arrested and murdered in a prison cell.
Now she wakes in her old life, exactly one month before the set up.
She has one month to identify the traitor inside her company who orchestrated her death before they do it again. The enemy is already watching, already moving.
Every change she makes to rewrite comes at a price: a core memory erased. One wrong step, and she loses the very truth she needs to survive.
Then there's Raphael Blackthorne, The ruthless CEO of her rival company, the man she spent a reckless night with, and now the person offering her flowers, dinners, and sincerity.
Liana has a plan.
She can't afford the distraction.
But as her memories unravel and the enemy closes in, she faces the truth she can't outrun: to survive, she may have to become someone who no longer remembers why she fought at all.
7.2
My grandfather sold me to a man named Maverick to settle his gambling debts. I stood on the private platform at Union Station, a human payment waiting to be collected.
But he never came. An hour later, his assistant called to say the deal was off. I was told to disappear by morning or face the consequences.
My family blamed me for their ruin and threw me out onto the street. Homeless and disowned, I had no choice but to take a low-level job at Prosperity Group, the biggest investment firm in Chicago. I needed to survive.
I never understood why he rejected me. I had followed every rule, worn the red dress he demanded, and waited like a lamb for slaughter. Why would he agree to save my family only to destroy us at the last second?
On my first day, I was called into the CEO's office. The man behind the desk was Damien Maddox, the city's most ruthless billionaire. He looked at me with a chilling familiarity. He was the man who had bought me. And he was the man who had thrown me away.
7.3
I stood in the shadows of the hospital, watching my wife kiss another man while my grandmother lay dying upstairs.
Just minutes ago, Erlene had snapped at me over the phone, calling me a "needy child" and claiming she was stuck at a business meeting across town. Now, she was stepping out of a red Porsche in a designer dress, wrapped in the arms of Andrew Hanson, the man who was supposed to be her "sick friend."
"I'm not going up," Erlene said coldly when I confronted her in the rain. "I don't like watching people die. It's depressing. Tell her I came by." She looked at my soaked, cheap hoodie and my scuffed sneakers with pure disgust before turning her back on me to return to her lover’s side.
I had to go back to the ICU alone and lie to my grandmother with her final breath, telling her Erlene was waiting just outside the door. As the heart monitor flatlined at 2:14 AM, my phone buzzed with a call from my mother-in-law, who screamed that I was a "worthless loser" and demanded I sign divorce papers immediately so her daughter could finally be with a "real man."
For three years, I lived as a ghost, a poor driver who endured their insults and hid my true identity just to have a simple life with the woman I loved. I sacrificed my future for a family that treated me like a stray dog, only for them to spit on me while I held my grandmother’s cold hand.
Why did I stay in the shadows for so long? Why did I let these people believe they could crush me under their expensive heels?
I walked out of that hospital and threw my thick, black glasses onto the wet asphalt, watching a delivery truck grind them into dust. I didn't need the disguise anymore. I drove my rusted Honda to the towering iron gates of the George Estate, where the security team dropped their batons and snapped into a terrified salute. My father was waiting on the marble steps, but I wasn't there for a peaceful reunion. I was there to reclaim my inheritance and make sure Erlene realized exactly what she had thrown away.