Page 45 of Velvet Corruption

She stirred, eyes fluttering open, her gaze unfocused and heavy with sleep. "Mami?" Her voice was raspy. "What’s wrong?"

For a second, I couldn’t answer. But I forced a reassuring smile. "Nothing, baby. We’re just going to see Daddy’s office for a little bit. You can stay cozy in your PJs."

Rosie blinked, trying to process what I was saying. Her concern grew as she noticed the way I cradled my hand, then the blood on my jeans. "You’re hurt…"

"It’s just a scratch," I lied. "I’ll be fine. Let’s get your shoes on, okay?"

I helped her slip on her slippers and a light jacket over her pajamas. Every motion was a struggle with one hand, but I kept up the façade for Rosie’s sake. I had to. As we walked toward the door, she clung to my uninjured hand, her exhaustion clear in every step.

"Do we really have to go?" she murmured, looking up at me with tired eyes.

"Just for a little while," I said. "You’ll get to rest there."

The doorbell rang, and I stiffened, my pulse quickening. I took a deep breath and glanced through the peephole. A young woman stood there—maybe about twenty-five, with chunky highlights and a friendly smile. I recognized her from Kieran’s contacts.

Tristan Callahan’s nanny. The not-gangster.

My instinct was not to trust her. But what choice did I have? At least Rosie would be somewhere safe while I got this taken care of.

I opened the door cautiously, still tense and wary. "Hannah?"

She nodded, her smile professional but warm. She didn’t say a word about the blood on me, which I guess may have been part of being a mafia nanny. "Yes. Kieran asked me to come."

I scanned her up and down, my mind racing. "I need to know you’re qualified."

She didn’t flinch. Calmly, she explained her experience, detailing her work with Kieran’s brother’s family and her background in childcare. I hesitated, the clock ticking loudly in my head. Finally, I gave a curt nod and gestured for her to enter, though I didn’t fully relax.

Rosie peered up at the newcomer from behind my leg, a flicker of fear in her eyes. Hannah crouched to her level, speaking gently. "Hi there, sweetheart. You must be Rosie. I’m here to help your mama get you somewhere safe and cozy, okay?"

Rosie didn’t respond, her grip tightening on me. I felt her worry, her confusion. I took a deep breath, trying to stay strong for both of us.

“That’s a cool backpack. You must like Moana, then? Hei Hei is my favorite,” Hannah said, crouching lower with a warm smile.

“I like Pua,” Rosie replied quietly, her voice still raspy. “The pig.”

“I love the pig!” Hannah said enthusiastically. “One of the kids I take care of has a Pua stuffie. Do you want to see a picture?”

Rosie hesitated, her small hand still gripping my jacket. But curiosity won out. Slowly, she nodded. Hannah pulled out her phone, scrolling for the photo, and showed it to Rosie, who gave a sleepy smile.

“See? Pretty cute, right?” Hannah said softly. “And now I get to meet you. I think we’re going to be great friends.”

Rosie didn’t say anything but nodded again, her grip on me loosening slightly. The tension in her shoulders eased just enough to make me feel like maybe, just maybe, this was going to work.

“Okay,” I said, cutting in before I lost momentum. “We have to go now, Rosie. Hannah’s going to help us, okay? You can tell me about the rest of your experience in my car. You’re driving. Julian will drop you off, or you can take a taxi back to my place to pick up your own vehicle.”

“Why are we going to daddy’s office?” Rosie asked. “We can stay here.”

“Mi amor, Hannah is a very nice girl who can take care of you, but I know your dad will want you close by when you’re not feeling well.”

And I hadn’t vetted Hannah, not really. Not enough to let her stay with Rosie in our house alone.

I had called ahead and Julian’s assistant knew Rosie was going to crash the office, but I couldn’t pull them away from theirduties to look after our daughter, no matter how much they loved her.

Hannah gave me a warm smile. “Got it,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Hannah drove while I sat in the back next to Rosie, my injured hand cradled awkwardly on my lap. Rosie dozed, her head resting against the window. The soft hum of the car engine and gentle music from the radio filled the silence between us.

I kept my eyes on the road ahead, but my thoughts were scattered, racing through every worst-case scenario. I didn’t trust easily—especially not someone sent by Kieran—but I didn’t have any better options. At least Rosie was in good hands while I dealt with this mess.

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