Ella held Matteo tightly, her heartbeat pounding like a war drum as the three men backed away at the sight of Marco’s security team storming into the park.
Black SUVs screeched to a halt along the curb, armed men jumping out in seconds, their guns raised, ready to fire.
The ambushers—outnumbered and outgunned— made the only decision they could.
They ran.
“Stay with the kid,” one of Marco’s men barked as he and three others chased after them, disappearing into the trees.
Ella let out a shaky breath, still holding Matteo close.
The little boy was still crying, his small fingers gripping onto her so tightly it was as if he feared letting go would make her vanish.
“Nanny,” he sobbed, his face buried in her shoulder. “I was so scared!”
“Shh, sweetheart,” Ella whispered, rubbing his back. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”
She could feel him trembling against her. One of Marco’s men approached, his sharp eyes scanning Ella from head to toe.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. Ella shook her head quickly, still breathing hard.
“No,” she said. “But Matteo—he’s terrified.”
The man nodded, speaking into his earpiece.
“Target escaped. Bringing them home now,” he reported.
Ella’s grip tightened on Matteo as they were escorted back to the SUVs.
Her heart still raced, but there was one thing she knew for certain.
Marco would not be happy about this.
The second they walked through the grand doors of the Venetti estate, Marco was already waiting. He stood in the center of the living room, his arms crossed, his face like carved stone.
His dark eyes locked onto Ella immediately, scanning her as if searching for any sign of injury.
Then—his gaze fell to Matteo, still clinging tightly to her, his little face buried in her neck.
Marco’s jaw clenched. “What the hell happened?” he demanded.
One of his men stepped forward. “They were ambushed,” the guard reported. “Three men. Armed. They ran as soon as we got there.”
Marco’s fists tightened. “And the boy?”
“Safe,” the man confirmed. “Shaken, but unharmed.”
Marco’s shoulders visibly relaxed, but his eyes still burned with fury. He turned to Ella.
“Why the hell were you out without security?” he snapped.
Ella flinched, holding Matteo closer. “I didn’t think we needed it,” she admitted, her voice soft, hesitant. “I just wanted to take him to the park.”
Marco ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply.
“You never leave this house without security again,” he ordered, his voice low, firm, absolute.
Ella nodded quickly, her body still shaking from the shock.
“Yes, Mr. Venetti,” she whispered. “I understand.”
Marco took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
Then, his eyes landed back on Matteo.
“Matteo, buddy,” he said softly, walking toward them.
But before he could reach for his son, Matteo did something that made Marco freeze in place.
Matteo tightened his little arms around Ella’s neck and whimpered softly—
“Mommy, don’t let go.”
The room fell into absolute silence. Ella stiffened. Marco’s entire body locked up. Matteo’s voice had been so small, so fragile. But Marco heard it clearly.
He had called Ella—mommy.
Ella felt Matteo’s tiny fingers digging into her dress, his body still trembling from the fear of what had happened.
For a moment, she didn’t even react. Then—she gently stroked his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.
“Shh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice as soft as silk. “I’m here. You’re safe now.”
Marco stood completely still, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.
For a brief second, a storm passed over his face—
But then, just as quickly, he brushed it off. Matteo had just been through something terrifying. He was scared, confused.
Of course he had called her that.
It didn’t mean anything.