My Mob Boss Employer’s Fiancée Broke Her 14-Month-Old Step-Son’s Arm and Framed Me — But She Didn't Know About the Clock on the Mantle
Enzo drove me back to my small, anonymous apartment building in Logan Square. He didn’t speak a word, his silence more unnerving than any threat. The $200,000 confession lay unspoken between us.
The apartment felt like a temporary shelter, not a home. My landlord, a sweet elderly woman, gave me a look of pity and fear as I walked past her door. The news had spread.
I spent the next few hours in a haze, the weight of Dominic’s ultimatum pressing down on me. Sign the confession, take the money, disappear. Or die.
I paced my tiny living room, replaying the last 24 hours. The medical report was a sliver of hope, but against the Moretti machine and a public smear campaign, it felt microscopic.
Just as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and bruised purple, there was a soft, insistent knock on my door.
I froze. Enzo wouldn’t knock. He’d just open the door, or break it down.
I peered through the peephole. An elderly woman stood in the hallway, frail but dignified, bundled in a dark coat, her silver hair pulled back in a neat bun. Beside her, a large, burly man in a chauffeur’s uniform stood respectfully.
Nonna Rosa. Dominic’s grandmother.
My hand trembled as I unlocked the door.
“Maya, dear,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong, though tinged with the rasp of age. Her eyes, though clouded, held a sharp, knowing glint. “May I come in? It’s chilly out here.”
I stepped aside, letting her in. Her driver remained outside, a silent sentry.
Nonna Rosa took a seat on my worn armchair, her gaze sweeping over the modest apartment. She didn’t seem to judge, only observe.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” she began, pulling a delicate lace handkerchief from her sleeve. “But I had to see you. Dominic tells me you’ve been a naughty girl.”
A small, wry smile touched her lips. “Dominic is a fool.”
My jaw dropped. “Nonna Rosa—”
“Please, call me Nonna,” she interrupted softly. “It is what Leo calls me. You remember Leo, don’t you?”
A lump formed in my throat. “Of course. I miss him.”
Her eyes softened. “He misses you too. He keeps asking for ‘Mama Maya.’ It breaks my heart.”
She paused, then looked at me directly. “I know Vanessa. I have known her for many years. She is like a snake, Maya. Beautiful, yes, but cold. And utterly without conscience.”
“Dominic believes her,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “He thinks I did it.”
Nonna Rosa scoffed, a surprising sound from such a small woman. “Dominic is blind. He lets her manipulate him with her pretty lies. He wants to believe she is a good woman, a proper wife for a Moretti, especially after Leo’s mother passed.”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But I watch her. I always have. And I know things, Maya. Things Dominic doesn’t.”
My breath hitched. “What kinds of things?”
“Vanessa has expensive tastes,” Nonna said, her eyes narrowing. “More expensive than Dominic’s allowances for her. She’s been skimming. Moving syndicate money. Small amounts at first, then larger. Through offshore accounts.”
This was a shock. Vanessa, stealing from Dominic? The very man whose name and protection she was desperate to secure?
“Why would she do that?” I asked, bewildered.
“Greed,” Nonna stated plainly. “And power. She thinks she can become the queen of this family. She thinks she can push me aside, push Leo aside. But she underestimates an old woman’s memory.”
A flicker of resolve hardened her face. “I am not a fool, Maya. I saw the look in her eyes when she twisted that child’s arm. I was not there, but I know her heart. And I have heard the whispers.”
She reached out, her frail hand covering mine. “You are a good woman, Maya. You love that boy. I saw it every day. I also know about your past, dear. That juvenile record. But it does not define you.”
My eyes stung. To hear this from Dominic’s own grandmother, the matriarch of the family, was a lifeline I hadn’t dared to imagine.
“What can I do?” I asked, desperation in my voice. “Dominic wants me gone. He wants me to sign a confession.”
Nonna Rosa shook her head, a determined glint in her eyes. “You will sign nothing. We will fight this. But first, we need proof. The real proof.”
“The camera,” I whispered. “The clock in Leo’s nursery.”
Nonna Rosa smiled faintly, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. “Exactly, my dear. That little clock. Such an innocent thing, isn’t it?”
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