Page 64 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
He had contacted his security. They had people out looking for her, but she had hours on them, and they had no idea where she was heading.
There was nothing. No note, no goodbye, no indication of her reasoning.
It was as if she had never been there in the first place.
Nicolas roared and struck the marble again, pacing back and forth, a caged tiger impotent and furious.
He needed to find her. He needed to find both of them, her and Thea. They werehis. Underhisprotection. He would not lose Daisy again. He couldn’t.
“Jesus, Nicolas,” Francesca swanned into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at the cracked marble and his bloodied fists, “what’s gotten into you?”
“Fuck off,” he whirled on her, teeth bared, relishing the fear that dripped from her in the face of his rage, “get the fuck out.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “Nicolas, I don’t—"
“Do you know where she is?” He stalked towards her until her back hit the wall. He resisted the urge to strike the stone beside her head. “Was this you? I swear to fucking God, Francesca, if I find out you’ve doneanythingto—"
“To what?” Francesca said in that same confused tone. “What’s happened?”
“Daisy and Thea are gone,” he snarled, “but I bet you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Don’t play fucking dumb with me,” he roared, his fist slamming into the wall by her head.
She whimpered and recoiled, eyes widening. “If Daisy’s gone, it’s because she tried to poison Gracie and failed! She’s guilty, she’s running away—"
“Do you really believe that I’m that fucking stupid?” Nicolas said. “Try again. And this time, tell the fucking truth, or I will literally rip you limb from limb.”
“She’s a liar, Nicolas! She’s trying to steal from you, how can you not see that?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Francesca’s chest heaved, her eyes raking over him, sizing him up. Deciding which angle she wanted to play. Hesitantly, she reached her hand out to rest on his chest, cool against the raging fire of his blood. Peeking up at him through her eyelashes, she made herself smaller, folding in her shoulders, tilting her head to reveal the side of her neck.
The very image of submission.
“We’ve been given a chance here, Nicolas,” she breathed, one long strand of hair falling over her shoulder, “a chance to be a real family. You, me, and little Gracie. We can be happy, the three of us. Why are you so scared of that?”
“Scared?” he replied. “You think fear is what’s holding me back? I fucking loathe you, Francesca. I think you’re a scheming bitch who’s after nothing more than my money.”
Her fingernails scraped against his chest and her eyes hardened. “What makes you think that?”
He captured her wrist, flinging her arm away from him. “I got a very interesting call last night. From my private investigation team. Turns out, they weren’t able to find any proof whatsoever that you were in an abusive relationship. You made it all up, didn’t you?”
All the blood drained from Francesca’s face, her bravado gone as her limbs started to shake, “I…I…”
“Now, I’m no expert in legal matters. But my job does require a certain level of fluency in such matters, especially when it comes to shifter-human business practices. The Accords have a fair few safeguards in place against humans weaponizing shifter biology against them through children. Any attempt to manipulate a shifter for monetary gain via offspring is…well. Let’s just say punishable and leave it at that.”
Francesca’s voice broke as she spoke. “I-I’m not after monetary gain. I just want to be in Gracie’s life.”
“And you could have been,” Nicolas replied, his voice deadly, “if you’d have been honest. But unfortunately, Francesca, information about your fake relationship wasn’t the only thing my team sent me. I also have the texts you sent to your sister. What was the phrasing you used…‘worth looking after the brat for the millions I’ll get…?’ It was something like that?”
Francesca’s mouth opened and shut like some kind of demented fish, her eyes wild and trapped. Then, something shifted, and all veneer of submission and civility melted away.
“So that’s it, then? You win? Big, bad, scary Nicolas Accardi? You aren’t fit to lick the shit from my shoe.”
“Francesca,” Nicolas said, leaning down into her face, teeth bared. “Get the fuck out of my house. And never come back.”
