Page 24 of Powerful Deception

That’s where the fucking nanny interviews come in.

I brushed it off when Evelyn first suggested it about five months ago. After Alessandra was sent to preschool with two different shoes that didn’t fit her last month, I had her set the interviews up.

Evelyn was right, I needed help. But like anything else, there was a catch. I wasn’t just going to pick just some random stranger off the streets. I wanted someone that knew what the hell they were doing and was able to pass a damn background check. With who I am and the type of life that I live, I needed to be extremely vigilant with who I was bringing into my house.

Yet weeks later, I still have no nanny and the only one I’m considering showed me her fucking tits during the questioning.

Tits that I’m not ashamed to say were in my dreams last night.

Angel lets out a small burp and drops the bottle from his mouth. He looks up at me with eyes that look so much like his mother’s before cuddling deeper into my hold and falling asleep once again.

“Dormi mio angioletto, ti proteggerò.” Sleep my little angel, I will protect you, I say as I glade the back of my finger against his cheek.

He’s not even a year old and he has already gone through so much.

Keeping his body close to mine, I stand up and place him in his crib once again.

I place a kiss on his small head and leave the room to let him sleep for a few more hours.

Before heading to my room to change for the day, I peek into Alessandra’s, to make sure her brother’s cries didn’t wake her.

I half expected for her eyes to be open and staring back at me, but she is fast asleep, as if there isn’t a care in the world.

Out of my two children, Alessandra worries me the most. Her leg has healed up fine, but the scar on her face will forever be with her. The scar isn’t what I’m most worried about though. She will grow into a beautiful woman, just like her mother and that scar will make her the strongest person that she can be.

What has me the most worried is the fact that she hasn’t said a word since Angelina died.

At four, my little girl should be talking my ear off as she tells me about the adventures she’s had during her day. Yet she isn’t.

It’s as if the accident stunted her speech. Every doctor has told me that nothing is wrong with her, that she will talk when she wants to.

But I’m starting to doubt them.

I’m starting to doubt that I will ever hear her voice again.

With one final look at Alessandra, I close the door and let her sleep.

I go get dressed and get my day somewhat started before the kids are fully awake and I have to get Alessandra ready for school.

Once I have a cup of coffee, I head into my home office and start up my computer.

Most people in Chicago would tell you that Dante Rosetti spends his days planning his next kill. If he’s not planning a kill, then he is planning on more ways to steal from people that don’t deserve it.

If they saw what I really did in a day, they would be fucking baffled.

All they see is a thirty-seven-year-old man that has ties to the mafia and is known for being a little trigger happy.

Are they right?

Partly.

Do I have ties to the mafia here in Chicago? I’m the fucking mafia here in Chicago. I’m one of two kings that this city has, and the people only see the bad that I do and never the good.

I will say though, I do a lot worse than good.

And one of the good things is Perversa and all the money that it brings to the city.

I opened Perversa over fifteen years ago. I was twenty-two and had money in my pockets from some of the jobs I was working for the Falcone famiglia.