Chapter 4

(Two Master)

Pearl had nearly drifted off on the plush velvet sofa when a small, cool hand gently pressed against hers.

“Dad is back,” a soft voice whispered. “You need to meet him. Now.”

Pearl’s eyes snapped open.

Mia stood in front of her, pigtails perfectly neat, wearing a polite little smile that didn’t quite hide the calculating glint in her eyes.

Pearl sat up immediately, forcing herself awake.

Right. The father. The man who was paying forty thousand dollars a month for a nanny.

Mia reached for her hand and began leading her toward the grand staircase.

“Do you want me to carry you, Mia?” Pearl asked instinctively. “Those stairs look a little steep.”

Mia stopped walking.

Her small hand turned cold in Pearl’s grasp.

“There is no need for that,” she said sharply.

Pearl blinked.

The response was colder than she expected from a seven-year-old.

“I was only trying to help,” Pearl replied calmly. “That sounded a little harsh, don’t you think?”

Mia turned slowly.

For a moment, the little girl’s expression looked eerily similar to her father’s—cool, controlled, and faintly intimidating.

“You haven’t even spent a full day here,” Mia said coolly, “and you’re already correcting me?”

Then she scoffed and continued up the stairs.

Pearl followed, sighing quietly.

This isn’t a job, she thought. This is a hostage negotiation.

They stopped in front of a pair of enormous dark oak doors.

Mia knocked three times.

“Dad? She’s here.”

The door opened almost immediately.

Pearl had seen Ace Warren on magazine covers and business interviews before.

But seeing him in person was… different.

He was taller than she expected. Broader. Sharper.

And dangerously handsome in a way that made her momentarily forget how to breathe.

“You’re the nanny?” Ace said.

His voice was deep and calm, like distant thunder.

“Not fully yet, Dad,” Mia chimed sweetly.

Ace looked down at his daughter.

“Why not?”

“I was waiting for your approval,” Mia said softly, suddenly looking like the perfect obedient child.

Pearl almost admired the performance.

Ace’s expression softened as he brushed a curl from Mia’s forehead.

“Okay. You can go now, sweetheart. I’ll handle it.”

He kissed her cheek.

Mia beamed and skipped happily down the hallway.

Pearl watched her go. Then she turned back to Ace.

The warmth in his eyes was gone.

The temperature in the hallway dropped instantly.

Ace stepped out and closed the door behind him.

“Name.”

“Pearl Augustine.”

“Married? Single? Divorced?”

Pearl raised an eyebrow slightly. Divorced? Do I look forty?

But she kept her voice polite.

“Single.”

Ace studied her like he was evaluating a business investment.

“Mia is… particular,” he said.

“She is demanding. She is choosy. And she expects perfection.”

His gaze sharpened.

“Are you sure you can handle that?”

Pearl held his stare calmly.

“I’m sure I can take care of her.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Ace nodded once.

“Good.”

“You start tomorrow.”

Relief rushed through Pearl.

“Thank you—”

Slam.

The door shut before she could finish.

Pearl stared at the wood for a full three seconds.

Then she rolled her eyes.

“Grumpy, cold, and absolutely no manners,” she muttered.

“Nanny?” Pearl jumped.

Mia had returned and was tugging on her skirt.

Pearl crouched to the girl’s height.

“Yes, Mia?”

“I’m hungry,” Mia said. “Prepare my dinner.”

Pearl tilted her head slightly.

“Your father said I start tomorrow.”

Instead of answering, Mia opened her arms.

Pearl narrowed her eyes. That’s definitely a trap.

But she lifted the girl anyway.

As Mia settled comfortably in her arms, Pearl realised something important.

Ace Warren might run a billion-dollar empire…

…but Mia Warren ran the house.

⸻

An hour later, Pearl stood in the massive kitchen.

Her sleeves were rolled up. An apron was tied around her waist.

She had been hired as a nanny.

Yet somehow she was now cooking a full dinner for a seven-year-old.

Pearl shook her head as she stirred the pan.

“This child is dangerous,” she murmured.

Still, the food smelled amazing.

She carried the plate into the dining room.

Mia’s eyes sparkled.

“You’re amazing,” the girl said. “Can you feed me?”

Pearl sighed.

“Just this once.”

She sat beside her and began feeding her small bites.

Then the sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase.

Ace appeared. He looked terrible.

His face was pale, and one hand pressed against his stomach.

“Dad,” Mia said brightly. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Not tonight,” Ace muttered.

“But it’s delicious! Have a taste!”

Ace groaned softly.

“I have a running stomach, Mia. I’m not eating anything.”

Pearl studied him quietly.

The man runs corporations but can’t manage his own stomach.

Ace suddenly looked at her sharply.

“I told you to start tomorrow. Why are you still here?”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl replied gently. “Mia asked me to stay for dinner.”

Ace looked at his daughter.

His anger melted into tired defeat.

“Oh.”

He sighed.

“Mia, sweetheart… You should have let her go home. It’s late.”

Before he could say more, his face turned green.

He spun around and rushed toward the bathroom.

Pearl watched him disappear.

Then she leaned toward Mia and whispered,

“You should probably eat faster.”

Mia grinned.

“Okay, Nanny.”

⸻

At five the next morning, Pearl stepped out of a cab.

She had been woken by a frantic phone call from one of the maids.

Apparently, half the staff had taken sudden leave.

Which somehow meant… she was needed immediately.

Pearl tied her long hair into a neat ponytail and walked toward the gates.

The security guard straightened when he saw her.

“Good morning, Miss Pearl.”

She blinked.

“You know my name?”

“Mr Warren announced it on the company platform,” he replied.

Pearl frowned slightly.

“The whole staff knows?”

“Every worker in the estate.”

Pearl felt a strange chill.

She hadn’t even been here a full day.

Yet somehow… everyone already knew who she was. A maid led her through the endless hallways until they reached Mia’s room.

The doors opened.

Pearl froze. The room was enormous.

Royal purple walls.

A canopy bed bigger than her entire apartment bedroom.

It looked like a princess's palace.

And sitting calmly in the middle of it was Mia.

Awake. Waiting.

“Good morning, Nanny,” Mia said sweetly.

Her smile was mysterious.

“I hope you’re ready.”

She tilted her head.

“Today is going to be a very long day.”

Chapter 5

(The Warren Manifesto)

The door to Mia’s suite swung open, and Pearl froze on the threshold. She had seen the living room, but this… this was a kingdom.

The room was a vast expanse of royal purple, larger than the entire apartment Pearl shared with Ella. A queen-sized bed sat like an island in the center, draped in a lavender duvet so plush it looked like a cloud. At the foot of the bed lay a massive purple teddy bear, its glass eyes reflecting the glow of a wall-mounted television that could rival a small cinema screen. To the left, a walk-in closet stood ajar, revealing rows of designer labels and a shoe rack that would make a socialite weep.

Pearl forced a bright, morning-show smile. Focus, Pearl. Breathe. Don’t look like you’re overwhelmed.

“Morning, Mia,” she said.

Mia didn’t look up from her vanity. “Finally. I thought you’d decided the commute wasn’t worth the trouble.” Her tiny reflection in the mirror looked far too weary for a child—like a miniature general evaluating her troops.

Pearl’s smile twitched. Almost. But not enough to seem scared… “Am I late?”

“Almost. But since you’re here, I need to get ready for school. You’ll be handling that from now on.” Mia stood, smoothing her silk pajamas like she was straightening a royal decree.

“Let’s do it then,” Pearl said, masking irritation with a calm tone. Act normal. Don’t let her see panic.

“You have a lot to learn,” Mia noted, her voice eerily calm. She walked to her desk, picked up a crisp white sheet of paper, and handed it to Pearl like a legal summons.

Pearl blinked. What now? She took the paper, her eyes widening as she scanned the title: MIA WARREN: MANDATORY WANTS AND NEEDS.

1. You must sing for me before I go to bed.

2. A good morning peck and a good night peck are non-negotiable.

3. You will prepare my breakfast once in a while (I dislike the chef’s omelets).

4. I hate noise.

5. I hate repeating my words.

6. Do not touch my ears. Only Dad is allowed to do that.

7. I hate dirt. I expect you to be immaculate.

8. You will escort me to Dad every morning for my morning kiss.

Pearl stopped at number eight, her heart skipping a beat. Every morning? And there are at least twenty more…

“I think you know what to do next,” Mia said, hopping onto her bed and crossing her legs. “My bathroom flip-flops.”

“Where are they?”

“In the inner closet,” Mia directed with a sharp pointed finger.

Pearl stepped into the closet, trying to ignore the miniature designer paradise surrounding her. Focus. Get the shoes. Survive. She grabbed a pair of purple velvet flip-flops and hurried back.

“Are you ready?” Pearl asked.

“We are ready,” Mia corrected, a ghost of a smile appearing. Then she stopped and fixed Pearl with a stare that could cut glass. “I heard that most smiles people wear are fake. Are yours real, Nanny? Or are you just a good actress?”

Pearl felt her chest tighten. Oh no. Not the trust test already. Before she could answer, Mia swept past her and headed for the door, leaving Pearl standing in stunned silence.

They reached the heavy, reinforced doors of the Master Suite. Mia pushed them open without knocking, triggering a soft, melodic security chime.

“Who’s there?” a voice barked from within.

“It’s Mia, Dad.” She signaled for Pearl to follow.

The air inside Ace’s room was different—scented with expensive sandalwood and the sharp edge of power. Ace was at his mirror, adjusting a silk tie. He looked lethal in a charcoal suit.

“Good morning, Dad,” Mia sang. Ace turned, the ice melting instantly as he scooped her up. He kissed her cheek, eyes softening in a way they never did for anyone else.

“Morning, sir,” Pearl said, bowing her head slightly. Keep it neutral. Don’t make him notice fear—or awe.

Ace’s gaze shifted to Pearl. The warmth evaporated. “Are you handling her perfectly?”

“Pretty good, sir,” Pearl replied evenly. Lie if you have to. Just survive.

“You’re going to be late for school, Mia,” Ace said, setting her down.

Mia’s face fell instantly. She sat on the edge of his bed, crossing her arms. “You promised to take me today.”

“I didn’t promise. I said ‘soon,’ Mia.”

“Another failed promise,” she groaned, voice thick with practiced disappointment.

Ace sighed, a man defeated by his own heart. “I always keep my word, Mia. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Fine.” Mia hopped up, mood switching back to business. She stopped and looked back at Pearl, who was still taking in the sheer opulence. “Are you coming? Or planning to stay here and stare? Maybe you want to move in?”

Pearl’s face flushed. Just breathe. Don’t answer like a fool. “Oops! I’m so sorry—”

“Mia,” Ace interrupted, voice gentle but firm, “you shouldn’t talk to your nanny that way. Not if you want her to stay.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Mia exclaimed, throwing her hands up before storming out.

Pearl caught Ace’s eye for a split second—a moment of shared exhaustion—before turning to follow. Focus. She’s right. Don’t flop. Don’t stare. Just survive.

Then, as she stepped into the hallway, a shadow shifted in the corner—a figure watching from the security panel screens. Pearl’s stomach twisted. So it begins…

Chapter 6

(Lonely in the Mansion)

Pearl let out a ragged sigh as the taillights of the limousine faded down the driveway. Mia was gone, but the silence she left behind pressed down like a physical weight. Pearl’s hands moved automatically, tidying the breakfast nook, stacking bowls and wiping crumbs, as if every surface could be polished enough to erase her anxiety.

She had barely registered the soft tread of Italian leather on marble before a wall of charcoal wool was inches from her face.

The bowls slipped from her hands, clattering across the floor with a deafening ring. Her heart jumped into her throat.

“Good morning… Mr Ace,” she stammered, voice trembling.

“Morning.” His eyes didn’t flicker, but the air around him thickened, taut and predatory. 

He bypassed her, moving toward the chrome coffee machine with a predator’s grace. Pearl froze in place, realizing she’d overstepped… again.

“I just wanted to get everything in order before you left,” she added, breath catching in her chest.

He hummed, the sound low and deliberate, as he watched the dark liquid swirl into his cup.

 “Your job here is to look after Mia. She’s stubborn, but she’s…” A rare, fleeting smile tugged at his lips. “…she’s a lovely girl. You shouldn’t be wasting time on household chores.”

Pearl’s stomach twisted. She wanted to nod, to say something clever, but all she could do was swallow. Invisible. Be invisible. Don’t mess this up.

“Yes, but I wanted to—”

“Do not! Interrupt! When I am speaking!”

The snap of his voice cracked like lightning. Pearl flinched, a shiver running down her spine. This house has a rhythm… and I am not part of it yet. Not fully.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, trying to steady her trembling hands.

Ace took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee. “What is your name again?”

“Pearl. Pearl Augustine.”

“Pearl.” The name rolled off his tongue like a coin, heavy and deliberate. “You have a lot to learn.”

He turned and strode into the living room. 

Pearl hesitated for a heartbeat, weighing her next move. Follow him. Observe. Learn. Any slip could cost me more than just a bad impression. 

She grabbed her cleaning gloves and hurried after him, heart hammering in her chest.

“The chef, the cleaning staff, and the gardener are all on leave,” Ace said without turning. “They return next week.”

Pearl nodded, biting her lip, her mind racing through menus, schedules, and her mental checklist. Mia. Meals. Bedtime. Rules. Don’t fail. Don’t be late. Don’t be obvious.

“Your primary focus is Mia. Get her to bed early. Be firm but fair. When she returns from school, she’ll want to discuss her day. Listen to her.” He paused, eyes piercing hers.

 “My rules are simple. I value my privacy above all else. Do not disturb me for trivialities. If it doesn’t involve my daughter’s immediate well-being, I am not to be bothered. I am your boss. You answer to me. If you need anything, call the driver. He will handle your transport.”

Pearl swallowed hard, nodding silently. Every word a rule, every glance a warning. I have to navigate this perfectly… one misstep, and it will all unravel.

“I have a question,” she said, her voice small but steady.

“Go ahead.”

“Since the staff is away… can I prepare the meals? For Mia, and—if it’s alright—for you as well?” She drew a deep breath. “I respect your boundaries, sir. I won’t be a problem.”

Ace studied her, sharp eyes assessing every nuance in her posture, every tremor in her voice. 

“Mia is particular about her palate. You can handle her meals. I will manage my own.”

Pearl let out a quiet exhale, though her heart still thundered. Control the chaos. Be precise. Don’t let him see you sweat.

“Alright. No problem, Ace.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Pearl could almost hear the whirring of her own thoughts. Every action is measured. Every word recorded. Breathe. Survive today.

Ace’s brow arched, expression shifting from cold to a fleeting curiosity. 

“Are we on friendly terms now, Miss Augustine?”

Pearl felt the blood drain from her face. “No, sir. I… I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond. He turned and walked out, the click of the lock resonating like a judgment. Pearl sank into a chair, pressing her hands to her face. Like father, like daughter. I am in deep now… and there’s no way out but forward.