“There’s a snitch inside your house, and I know exactly who it is.” Luca clenched his jaw so hard it ached. His fingers curled into fists on Marco’s desk as he leaned forward, voice low, dangerous.
Marco heaved a sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. “Will you stop bringing the nanny into this conversation?”
“She’s hiding something, Marco. Open your damn eyes.”
Marco exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. He was tired—of the endless sabotage, of the threats, of Luca’s constant accusations.
“Luca,” Marco said, his tone measured, firm. “You’re the one who found her. You’re the one who convinced us we need a Nanny.”
Luca gritted his teeth. “You’re not listening. I might have made a big mistake.”
“Because there’s nothing to listen to!” Marco snapped, standing up abruptly. “You think if you dig hard enough, you’ll find something, but Luca—there’s nothing! Ella has been nothing but good for Matteo.”
Luca laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “I was so sure she’s good. A lot of people recommended her to me. I did multiple security checks. Everything is aligned. But I don’t know anymore.”
Marco stilled.
“What are you talking about?”
Luca ran a hand through his hair, frustration rolling off him in waves.
“I looked into her again, Marco. I searched every database, every employment record. I even ran her name through contacts overseas.”
“And?”
Luca’s eyes darkened.
“It’s like her past was wiped clean.”
Silence.
Marco’s jaw tensed, but he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe she’s just private.”
Luca slammed his hand on the desk. “For God’s sake, Marco! People don’t just erase their past unless they have something to hide!”
Marco’s eyes flashed with warning.
“I’m done with this conversation. That nanny is the least of my problem. We have bigger issues to solve!” he said coldly.
Luca shook his head, stepping back.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But when you finally see the truth? It’ll be too damn late.”
He turned on his heel and stormed out.
***
Matteo’s behavior was becoming more unsettling by the day, and the increasing number of things that went missing—the subtle shifts in his moods—left her unsettled. It was as if something was quietly slipping away from her, something she couldn’t quite grasp.
Matteo, usually the messy little whirlwind, had always left his toys scattered around the house, his little world unfolding wherever he went. But this? This was different. This wasn’t the innocent disarray of a child. This was something else.
“Baby, where’s Mama’s phone?” Carmen asked, her voice edged with worry as she searched the couch cushions for her missing device.
Matteo looked up from his coloring book, his innocent eyes wide. "I dunno," he muttered, twirling a crayon between his small fingers.
Carmen’s frown deepened. She stood up, her eyes scanning the room. It wasn’t on the counter, the nightstand, or the kitchen. A sickening suspicion churned in her stomach as she crouched down and checked under the couch. There it was. Her phone, tucked away in the shadows.
She pulled it out, staring at it with growing confusion. "Matteo," she said slowly, turning to face him. "Did you put my phone here?"
Matteo shifted uncomfortably, his fingers nervously gripping the crayon. "Nuh-uh," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
Carmen studied him for a long moment, a deep unease settling in her chest. Lately, more and more things had been disappearing. Her keys. Marco’s watch. Matteo’s favorite toys. And every time she found them, they were hidden—under furniture, in drawers, behind pillows. It wasn’t just childish forgetfulness. Something was wrong.
“Sweetheart,” she said gently, her voice taking on a coaxing tone. “You can tell Mama the truth.”
Matteo’s tiny hands tightened around the crayon, his eyes wide with something unspoken. "Nanny says secrets are important," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Carmen’s stomach twisted. She stood frozen for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
“What?” she breathed, her heart racing.
Matteo glanced furtively at the doorway, as if checking to make sure Ella wasn’t listening. Then, in a hushed whisper, he added, “She says secrets keep us safe.”
A chill ran down Carmen’s spine. She hadn’t been imagining things. Ella’s influence over Matteo—over all of them—was far deeper than she had realized.
Later, as dinner was served, Carmen tried to push aside the creeping paranoia. She placed Matteo’s favorite meal in front of him: pasta with tiny meatballs, cut into little pieces, just the way he liked. "Eat up, baby," she said, forcing a smile as she watched him sit in front of the plate.
But Matteo didn’t move. He stared at his food, his hands folded neatly in his lap.
“Sweetheart?” Carmen asked gently.
Still, he didn’t touch the food.
Then, as if on cue, Ella, who had been sitting beside him, picked up a fork. "Here, darling," she said smoothly, scooping up a bite and offering it to Matteo. Without hesitation, Matteo opened his mouth, accepting the bite eagerly.
Carmen’s breath hitched. She watched, frozen, as Matteo happily ate only when Ella fed him. It wasn’t like him—he had always been so independent, so eager to do things on his own.
"Matteo, you can eat by yourself," Carmen said, her voice soft but firm.
Matteo shook his head, a slight frown forming on his lips. “Nanny feeds me.”
Carmen glanced at Marco, hoping for some sign that he was seeing the strange behavior too. But he was distracted, his face buried in his phone. She felt a tight knot form in her chest. Something was very wrong.
***
Luca wasn’t stupid. He knew Marco wasn’t going to listen to him—at least not without hard evidence. That night, as Ella left the house at exactly 10:45 PM, Luca made his move. He trailed her from a distance, staying hidden in the shadows.
Ella’s movements were graceful, calm, as she walked the familiar route she always took when she left. She walked three blocks, then turned into an alleyway. Luca pressed himself against the cold brick wall, his heart pounding in his chest.
And then he saw it.
Ella stopped in front of a man—a stranger. He couldn’t see their faces clearly, but Luca saw Ella reach into her coat pocket and hand him something. The man tucked it away, nodding in acknowledgment before disappearing into the night.
Luca’s stomach twisted with unease. Whatever she had given him—it was important. It wasn’t just some casual exchange.
Ella didn’t leave immediately. She stood in the alleyway, her head tilted slightly, as if sensing someone was watching. Luca held his breath, staying as still as possible.
Then, without warning, she turned. Luca ducked just in time, his heart pounding in his chest. She knew. She knew