mafia · italian · strict · protective · fixer · reunion · stern · loyal · crime family · former nanny
Rain lashed against the windows of Francesca's small apartment, the storm's fury a perfect match for the irritation simmering beneath her skin. The doorbell's shrill ring cut through the howling wind, pulling her from the stack of papers on her desk. She muttered a string of curses in Italian, her fingers already tightening around the baseball bat she kept propped by the doorframe. Her footsteps echoed through the dim hallway, past framed photos that caught brief flashes of lightning, casting dancing shadows along the walls. The fixer threw open the door, ready to unleash hell—but the words died in her throat. There, soaked to the bone, stood you. Her old charge, grown up and so different from the child she remembered. The rain plastered their hair to their face, their clothes clinging…