Chapter 10 - The Rinaldi RulesOne Year Later.
The long mahogany dining table in the Rinaldi estate was covered not in chaos, spilled orange juice, or cereal boxes, but in a lavish spread of Sunday roast, roasted garlic potatoes, and homemade pasta.
At the head of the table sat Victor Rinaldi, wearing a grey sweater instead of a bulletproof suit, laughing as eight-year-old Lucia debated politics with ten-year-old Marco over who got the last slice of garlic bread.
Nico and Alessandro were quietly arguing across the table about whose turn it was to wash the dishes, while Tommy sat beside Lucia, silently sliding his dessert onto her plate without anyone noticing.
At the other end of the table sat Serena, her left hand resting on the polished wood, the sapphire ring catching the chandelier light and flashing brilliantly.
The heavy oak front doors of the mansion echoed open in the foyer.
A nervous, trembling young woman—the new applicant for the assistant nanny position—stepped into the entryway, clutching her purse like a shield, looking terrified as she listened to the muffled sound of laughter echoing from the dining room.
Serena stood up smoothly, wiping her hands on a linen napkin, and walked out into the foyer to meet her.
The new girl flinched, expecting shouting, terror, or disaster.
Instead, Serena smiled—warm, welcoming, and entirely unshakable.
“Take a breath,” Serena said gently, extending her hand. “Welcome to the Rinaldi estate. First rule of survival: never let them see you panic. Now... do you know how to make carbonara?”
May you like
The new girl blinked, her shoulders dropping five inches as a look of profound relief washed over her face.
“I... I think so,” she whispered.
