Chapter 2 - The House RulesMara discovered within her first hour that the Valenti mansion had eighty-three security cameras, fourteen bedrooms, two kitchens, a private gym, an indoor pool, a wine cellar larger than her first apartment, and absolutely no rules the triplets considered binding.
She also knew six women had quit this job in forty-eight hours.
What she didn’t know was why.
The employment agency had been suspiciously vague.
“Three boys,” the woman on the phone had said. “Eight years old. Same birthday.”
“Triplets?”
“Yes.”
“Any medical concerns?”
“No.”
“Behavioral concerns?”
A long pause.
“They’re… energetic.”
Mara had worked with children long enough to understand that energetic could mean anything from climbing furniture to setting furniture on fire.
Still, the salary was more than she had made in six months.
And desperate people didn’t get to be picky.
She pressed the intercom.
A camera turned toward her.
“Name?” a male voice demanded.
“Mara Bennett. I’m here about the nanny position.”
The gates opened.
That should have been her first warning.
The mansion stood at the end of a long stone drive lined with oak trees and black security vehicles. White columns framed three floors of windows. Marble lions guarded the front steps.
It looked less like a home than the headquarters of a very wealthy country.
A tall housekeeper named Mrs. Russo opened the door.
She studied Mara’s thrift-store cardigan, sensible flats, and worn handbag.
“You were told about the previous nannies?”
“I was told there were six.”
“Seven.”
Mara blinked.
“Someone quit this morning.”
Mrs. Russo stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The foyer was enormous.
Mara had barely taken three steps when something wet exploded above her head.
Ice water poured over her hair, shoulders, and blouse.
A metal bucket crashed onto the marble beside her.
From the second-floor balcony came three identical bursts of laughter.
Mara looked up.
Three dark-haired boys leaned over the railing.
One held a piece of rope.
Another was filming with a tablet.
The third called down, “That’s a record! She didn’t even scream!”
Mrs. Russo closed her eyes.
“Boys.”
Mara wiped water from her face.
The triplets waited.
They expected anger.
Or tears.
Or resignation.
Instead, Mara looked at the bucket.
Then at the boys.
Then she started laughing.
Not politely.
Really laughing.
The boys went silent.
“That,” Mara said, pointing upward, “was actually pretty good.”
The smallest boy frowned.
“What?”
“Your pulley system.” She bent, picked up the bucket and examined the knot. “Terrible rope choice, though. You used a slippery hitch.”
The boy holding the rope instinctively glanced at it.
“It worked.”
“Once.”
She carried the bucket to the bottom of the stairs.
“If you’re going to terrorize professional childcare workers, at least learn a proper bowline.”
All three boys stared.
Mrs. Russo stared harder.
Then a voice came from behind Mara.
“What exactly are you teaching my sons?”
She turned.
The man in the photograph from the agency file stood fifteen feet away.
Dante Valenti.
Thirty-eight.
Widower.
Businessman.
And, according to every whispered rumor in New York, something considerably more dangerous than that.
He wore a black suit with no tie, one hand in his pocket.
He didn’t need to raise his voice.
The room became quieter around him automatically.
Mara’s smile disappeared.
“Mr. Valenti.”
His gaze moved over her soaked clothing.
“Most applicants leave after the bucket.”
“Then you’ve been hiring people who scare easily.”
One of the triplets whispered, “Whoa.”
Dante’s eyes sharpened.
“You know who I am?”
“I know you own Valenti Holdings.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Mara understood exactly what he meant.
Everyone knew the stories.
Ports.
Casinos.
Construction companies.
Men who crossed Dante Valenti and suddenly discovered they preferred living in other states.
But Mara needed the job more than she feared rumors.
“I’m applying to care for three children,” she said. “Not investigate their father.”
For the first time, something shifted in Dante’s expression.
Not quite amusement.
Almost.
The triplets came racing downstairs.
They lined up behind him like three conspirators.
“Mara Bennett,” Dante said. “These are Luca, Leo, and Nico.”
“I know which is which.”
All four males looked at her.
“You’ve been here four minutes,” Dante said.
Mara pointed.
“Luca keeps checking whether you approve.”
The boy on the left froze.
“Leo’s trying not to laugh.”
The middle boy immediately stopped smiling.
“And Nico tied the rope.”
The smallest boy stared at her.
“How did you know?”
“You have fibers stuck to your sleeve.”
Nico looked down.
Mara smiled.
“First lesson. Never leave evidence.”
Mrs. Russo coughed suspiciously into her fist.
Dante did not smile.
But his eyes did.
Then Luca stepped forward.
“You won’t last until dinner.”
“Probably not.”
Leo blinked.
“You admit it?”
“I’ve got thirty-seven dollars to my name and your father is offering more money than I’ve seen in years.”
Dante’s expression changed instantly.
Mara realized she had spoken too honestly.
But she was tired of pretending poverty was something polite people shouldn’t mention.
“So,” she continued, “you three can probably make me quit.”
The boys looked pleased.
“But you’re going to have to work for it.”
Nico folded his arms.
“Challenge accepted.”
Dante looked from his sons to the dripping woman standing in his marble foyer.
For two years, his children had driven away tutors, therapists, coaches, chefs, drivers, and every nanny he had hired.
They had broken windows.
Released frogs in bedrooms.
Reprogrammed alarm systems.
Once mailed a nanny’s luggage to Cleveland.
But this woman had walked into their first trap and complimented the engineering.
Dante should have dismissed her immediately.
Instead, he said, “One-week trial.”
Mara exhaled.
“Fine.”
Luca grinned wickedly.
“You’re going to regret that.”
Mara bent closer.
“Kid, regret is expensive.”
She straightened.
“And I only have thirty-seven dollars.”
For the first time in months, all three Valenti boys laughed at the same time.
Dante didn’t.
Because behind their laughter, he saw something he hadn’t seen since their mother died.
May you like
Curiosity.
And for reasons he didn’t yet understand, that frightened him far more than any enemy ever had.
Related Stories
