Chapter 6 - The Matriarch
The older woman stopped abruptly at the foot of the massive bed, her sharp, dark eyes evaluating me with surgical precision.
She was impeccably dressed in a tailored crimson suit, her silver-streaked hair pulled into an elegant chignon.
She exuded wealth, power, and an unmistakable aura of complete intimidation.
“This is the girl?” she asked, switching to flawless, unaccented English.
She looked me up and down, taking in my cheap T-shirt, my messy hair, and the dark circles under my eyes.
“She looks entirely fragile, Aleandro. She looks like a strong breeze would knock her completely over.”
“She is stronger than she looks, Mother,” Aleandro defended quietly, stepping between us.
“Amanda, this is my mother, Isabella Raldi.”
I offered a weak, nervous nod from the bed. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Raldi.”
Isabella didn't smile back.
“You told me you were bringing in a highly trained, discreet medical professional for your grandfather,” she snapped at Aleandro.
“Not a malnourished stray you picked up off the subway floor.”
The insult stung, mostly because it was entirely accurate.
I pushed the heavy duvet off my legs and swung my feet over the side of the bed.
“I am a registered trauma nurse at Mount Sinai,” I said, finding my voice despite the overwhelming situation.
“I have dealt with gunshot wounds, cardiac arrests, and multiple-car pileups. I assure you, Mrs. Raldi, I am not fragile.”
Isabella raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, clearly surprised by my sudden spark of defiance.
Aleandro smirked slightly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“She also survived six months with an abusive coward without completely breaking,” Aleandro added, pointing to the fading bruises on my arm.
Isabella’s gaze dropped to the purple and yellow marks on my skin.
The harsh judgment in her eyes softened, just a fraction of an inch, replaced by a cold, familiar understanding.
“Men who hit women are weak,” Isabella stated, her voice dropping into a deadly, serious register.
“And the Raldi family does not tolerate weakness.”
She turned her attention back to her son.
“Fine. She can have a trial period. But if she makes one single mistake with your grandfather’s care, she is gone. No second chances, Aleandro.”
“She won't make a mistake,” Aleandro promised confidently.
Isabella turned on her expensive heels and marched toward the door.
“Have Marco bring her some proper clothes. She looks like a vagrant.”
With that final parting shot, the matriarch swept out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, slumping slightly against the mattress.
“She is... intense,” I murmured.
“She is protective,” Aleandro corrected gently. “My grandfather built this entire empire. He is the heart of this family. She will not trust his life to just anyone.”
“Then why are you trusting me with it?” I asked, looking up into his dark eyes.
“You don't know me. I could be a terrible nurse.”
Aleandro walked closer to the bed, stopping just inches away from my knees.
“I had my security team run a full background check on you while you were sleeping, Amanda.”
I gasped, feeling a sudden, sharp violation of privacy. “You investigated me?”
“I am the head of a syndicate,” he stated unapologetically. “I don't bring strangers into my home without knowing their entire history.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.
“I know you graduated top of your nursing class. I know you work double shifts to pay for a man who beat you. I know you haven't spoken to your own family in three years.”
He unfolded the paper and placed it gently in my lap.
It was a printed copy of a newspaper clipping from five years ago.
The headline read: Off-Duty Nurse Saves Three from Burning Vehicle.
There was a blurry photo of me, looking much younger and healthier, covered in soot, standing next to a destroyed car.
“You ran into a burning car to save strangers while everyone else stood back and filmed it on their phones,” Aleandro said quietly.
“You are brave, Amanda. You just forgot how brave you are because a weak man made you feel small.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, completely unbidden.
Nobody had spoken to me like this in years.
Nobody had looked at me and seen anything other than a tired, broken girl.
“I'll take the job,” I whispered, wiping a stray tear from my cheek.
Aleandro smiled, a genuine, breathtaking expression that completely transformed his dangerous face.
“Good. I will have Marco show you to your private suite.”
He turned to leave, pausing briefly in the doorway.
“Welcome to the family, Amanda.”
Two hours later, after a hot shower and changing into the expensive, comfortable clothes Marco had provided, I was escorted down a long, marble hallway.
Marco stopped outside a set of heavy, double oak doors guarded by two massive men in dark suits.
“The Don is inside,” Marco said respectfully, pushing the doors open.
I stepped into a massive, sunlit room that looked more like a hospital ICU than a bedroom.
An old, frail man lay in the center of the room, hooked up to various beeping monitors.
I walked closer, my professional training kicking in instantly.
But as I looked at the old man's face, my heart completely stopped in my chest.
May you like
I recognized him.
It was the exact same man I had pulled from the burning car five years ago.
