32
One Week Later
Jace
I haven’t heard from Olivia. She hasn’t returned to work. Not that I expected her to, either.
I have Ryder, one of my best capos, keeping an eye on the apartment, alerting me to any visitors. Mainly, I’m keeping tabs to make sure Luka doesn’t harass her. Not that I anticipate that he’ll show up, but he did snatch her off the street while she was pregnant.
If he wants to hurt me, one way is through Olivia.
But if he assumes that we’re broken up, then he should leave her alone. There’s been no word from him.
It’s been too silent.
Matteo has been keeping tabs on the Caruso family, ensuring that Luka isn’t making another move on my family. He’s managed, with a bit of help, to hack into their security and surveillance footage.
If they plan on coming after my family, we’ll know about it.
Astrid cries a lot. It seems like she barely stops except to eat and sleep. I’m at wit’s end on what to do, how to handle a shrieking infant.
Does she want her mother?
Olivia is gone. She’s not coming back. And dare I say I miss her.
Cradling Astrid in my arms, the bottle at her lips, she doesn’t take it. Her face is red, her cries growing louder.
“Might I make a suggestion, Sir?” Matteo asks.
He must sense my frustration. He doesn’t offer to hold Astrid. No one does. I don’t know whether it’s their fear of a newborn baby or they don’t like kids. My men don’t have children. They barely take care of themselves outside of the compound.
“What?” I snarl at him.
I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived. I don’t know why I thought I could do this on my own.
“Ryder has reported to me that he hasn’t seen Olivia leave her apartment a single time in the past week.”
That doesn’t sound right. “Did she have food or groceries brought in?”
Matteo’s brow is furrowed. “No, Sir. I’d like to have one of my men sent over to check on her well-being.”
I cradle Astrid, rocking her in one arm when she finally takes the bottle. Overwhelming relief floods through me. “Fine, do it.”
“Might I also make another suggestion?” Matteo asks.
I glare at him. “What now?” I’m grumpy as fuck, and he’s not helping my mood.
“You need help with the little one. Might I suggest we bring in a nanny?”
“I don’t want anyone else raising my child.” The intention I had early on, before Olivia gave birth, had been ideal.
The reality is much different. How can we trust an outsider? I’m not interested unless the nanny is skilled in martial arts, weapons, and self-defense training. I don’t want Mary Poppins watching my kid. I need someone with tactical expertise and private security training.
Which limits my search significantly.
And the thought of having a guard shadow the nanny, that’s not an option. I can’t risk anyone else knowing that we’re mafia or that she too might end up in danger.
“Is this about Olivia, Sir?” Matteo doesn’t avoid the hard questions. It’s what I pay him for, to be brutally honest. At the moment, it’s not a quality I find endearing.