Alessia's Pov

The room froze.

All eyes shifted to the man who had just walked in. He was tall, with broad shoulders, dressed in a dark suit. Calm. Every movement measured and deliberate.

He didn't rush. He didn't flinch. He simply moved toward the center of the hall, past rows of staring guests, until he stopped near the stage.

Julian Mercer's frown deepened. "Excuse me," he said, voice tight. "This is a private auction. You have no business here unless you have an invitation."

"I don't need an invitation," he said nonchalantly, not even bothering to look back at Julian.

"I said," he repeated to the auctioneer, his voice smooth like velvet, "this auction is over."

The auctioneer blinked. "Sir, I'm afraid that's not possible. We are in the middle of-"

"Then make it possible. I've settled the debts of Romano Industries."

A murmur spread through the hall.

"The outstanding loans have been paid," he continued calmly. "Every creditor has been compensated. The assets currently being auctioned will be returned to the Romano family."

Gasps broke through the crowd.

"And the company," he finished, "now belongs to me."

Silence.

Julian stared at him for a moment before letting out a laugh, breaking the silence.

It was loud and mocking, meant to humiliate.

"You expect us to believe that?" he scoffed. "Some random man walks in and suddenly claims he bought Romano Industries?"

He gestured lazily toward me, still laying helplessly on the floor.

"Let me guess. You're here to play hero for my ex-wife, her knight in shining armor." He sneered.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, fury overriding my embarrassment and helplessness.

I let out a loud scoff as I got off the floor. The attention of the room rediverted to me instantly, eager to hear what I had to say.

"You act like you have some special place here when you don't."

"Oh, now your prince charming is here you have a backbone," Julian smirked at me.

He enjoyed toying with me in front of all these people.

Marissa walked up to me with a look of fake sympathy. Her red lips formed a pout as she grabbed my arm lightly, her nails digging into my skin drawing a faint line of blood as I winced.

"Alessia, Julian still cares about you even after everything you did," she said loud enough for everyone to hear. "You don't need to hire an actor just to save face. Just apologize and he'll forgive you."

"Let go of me," I said harshly, pushing her away. She staggered back before Julian caught her in his arms.

The mystery man simply lifted an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

Julian glared at me. "Honestly, this is pathetic. Do you even know what kind of money it takes to-"

The doors behind them burst open again, interrupting him a second time.

A young woman hurried inside, heels clicking quickly across the floor as she made her way toward him, clutching a tablet and a folder thick with documents.

"Sir," she said, slightly breathless, "the transfers are complete. All funds have been wired, and the acquisition contracts have been finalized."

The room held its breath.

Julian scoffed again. "Oh please. Do you really expect anyone here to take this seriously?"

The woman turned slowly toward him.

"And who are you?" she asked impatiently.

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his suit jacket. "Julian Mercer," he said with pride.

Her expression was unimpressed.

Then she gave a small, incredulous laugh.

"Mr. Mercer," she said, her voice carrying easily across the silent hall, "if you're going to insult someone, you should at least know who you're talking to."

Julian's smirk faltered.

She gestured casually toward the man beside her.

"This is Adrian Virelli."

The whispers died instantly.

Even the air seemed to grow heavier.

Julian's face drained of color.

Because everyone in that room knew exactly who Adrian Virelli was.

One of the most powerful men in the country.

A man whose companies swallowed corporations twice the size of Romano Industries before breakfast.

Julian had been after a partnership with them for years but had been rejected countless times.

Julian swallowed hard.

"Mr. Virelli," he said quickly, his tone shifting from arrogance to forced politeness in the span of a second. "I... didn't realize it was you. If there's been some kind of misunderstanding-"

Adrian didn't listen.

His attention had already shifted to me, shivering in the strapless white gown Marissa had doused in wine. My palm was raw from scraping the floor. My dignity scattered across the room for everyone to stare at.

For a moment, he simply looked at me, I shuddered under his gaze.

Then he removed his suit jacket.

The movement was smooth and effortless.

He stepped closer and draped it over my shoulders, the dark fabric hiding the stains and the humiliation.

A wave of whispers surged through the guests.

"Why is Adrian Virelli helping her?"

"Does he know the Romano family?"

"Are they dating?"

Julian clenched his jaw hard.

I barely heard them.

My mind was still struggling to process what had just happened as I slowly turned my head toward the stage.

My father was staring at Adrian.

Not with shock, but something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.

He met my gaze.

Then he gave a small nod toward the direction Adrian had already started walking.

A silent instruction but loud and clear.

Follow him.

Adrian was halfway to the exit.

I pushed myself to my feet, clutching the jacket around me as I hurried after him, the murmurs of the elite trailing behind me like ghosts.

I caught up to him in the corridor outside.

"Wait."

He stopped.

Slowly, he turned to face me.

Up close, his expression was calm and controlled.

Impossible to read.

I swallowed.

"You just saved my family," I said, my voice shaky but sincere. "Our company... our home... everything. I-"

"You don't need to thank me."

Relief flickered across my face.

It vanished just as quickly.

Adrian slipped his hands into his pockets, his gaze steady as he finished the sentence.

"I never do anything for free."

Alessia's POV 

His eyes bore into mine gauging my reaction.

I shrunk under his gaze, feeling like I had been stripped to my very being. Laid bare for him to see.

What did he see when he looked at me like that? A desperate woman whose family had nearly lost everything tonight? A charity case? Something else entirely?

"Mr Virelli I appreciate your help, I truly do." I gulped, "I don't know what impression you have of me but my body is not  for sale."

He gave me a once over and chuckled. My cheeks tinged red I looked away not wanting him to see.

"Ms. Romano I'm afraid you've misunderstood my intentions." Amusement in his tone.

"Then... What do you want out." I managed to get out before my voice betrayed me.

"I want you to work for me." He said casually as he tucked his hands into the pocket of his slacks.

I blinked. Then blinked again.

Of all the things I'd expected him to say; a proposition, a demand, even a clarification that I'd misunderstood his intentions entirely,this was not on the list.

Work for him.

Adrian Virelli. The man whose face appeared on the covers of business magazines. The man who could buy those magazines if he wanted to. The man who had just spent nearly a billion dollars on a woman he'd never met.

My eyebrows drew together so tightly I could feel the tension ache between them. This made no sense. None.

I knew who Adrian Virelli was. Everyone did. He didn't need anything from someone like me. He had entire floors of assistants. He had people who probably fought each other for the chance to work for him. He had-

I stopped myself mid-thought and really looked at him. At the way he stood there so casually, hands in his pockets, as if he'd just offered me a cup of coffee instead of a completely inexplicable job.

"What," I started, then had to pause and steady my voice. "What could I possibly have to offer someone like you?"

"Mr Virelli I don't think I have any special qualifications that would make you help me out."

"You'll work for me for three years." He said completely ignoring my previous statement. "You will work as a nanny taking care of my daughter, Ava."

Before I could respond, a sharp laugh interrupted our conversation. Marissa stepped out of the shadows 

I turned to face her and the embarrassment that had me shrinking moments ago evaporated completely. In its place white-hot rage that made my vision sharpen. Every detail of her mocking smile burned itself into my brain. The way her perfectly tinted lips curled. The smug tilt of her chin. The dismissive flick of her wrist as she gestured toward me like I was something unpleasant she'd scraped off her shoe.

"Mr Virelli you can afford to hire the best team of nannies in the country, in the world even." She cast a mocking glance at me. "Why would you want a woman that couldn't even give her husband a child."

Adrian's eyes darkened as he looked at Marissa.

"And you are?"

"Marissa Gonzalez." She answered as she stretched out her hand for a handshake, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Adrian looked at her outstretched hand with disdain.Marissa's hand hung in the air between them. One second passed. Two. I watched the confidence drain from her face in slow motion, watched her perfectly manicured fingers begin to curl back toward her palm.

"Miss Gonzalez what makes you think you can just walk into a conversation and give your unsolicited advice."

"I, I just thought you should know what type of woman you're dealing with." she sputtered surprised at his hostility.

"You should really do less thinking, it doesn't suit you." He threw the insult so casually I almost missed it. I choked back a laugh 

Marissa's hand dropped. She actually fumbled, reaching for something; a comeback, a flirtatious remark, some way to salvage this but coming up empty. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. Like a fish out of water.

"I-I just thought-" She laughed, but it came out too high pitched. Her embarrassment evident. "I thought you should know what type of woman you're dealing with. She's not-I mean, everyone knows that she-"

"We're not friends, what gives you the right to advise me?" He continued not letting up.

"I'm sorry." She squeaked.

"Leave." He ordered, voice low.

She cast me one more hateful glance and scurried off.

"Thank you." I said quietly.

I stood there, frozen, waiting for the inevitable. In my experience, when a woman like Marissa turned her venom on someone, people found somewhere else to look. They studied their shoes. They checked their phones. They suddenly remembered urgent business elsewhere.

That's what had happened with my husband's family. When Marissa first started whispering her poison, when she first began planting seeds of doubt about my ability to give them an heir, no one corrected her. Not his mother, who wanted grandchildren. Not his sisters, who'd always viewed me as an outsider. And eventually, not even my husband.

But Adrian Virelli didn't look away. He didn't shift uncomfortably. He didn't pretend not to hear.

He defended me.

I felt the walls I had built so high over the years begin to crack. I looked away, afraid he might be able to see my undoing in my eyes.

"You don't need to thank me, I just dislike people who don't know their place."

"But she's right, I've never had a child of my own. I don't think I'm the right fit to take care of your daughter." I sighed.

"If I say you are then you are."

I opened my mouth ready to argue again but he lifted his hand, cutting me off.

"That's the only way for you to pay me back or you give me the money in full this night."

Three years.

The words echoed in my head. Three years of my life, handed over to a stranger. Three years of living under his roof, caring for his child, existing at his convenience.

I should have asked questions. What would the arrangement look like? Would I live with them? Would I have days off? What about my parents,would I still be able to visit them? What if his daughter hated me? What if I was terrible at this?

But even as the questions surfaced, I already knew the answers didn't matter.

I didn't have almost a billion dollars. Heck, I didn't have almost a million dollars. I had a savings account with maybe four thousand dollars in it with no job. My parents had nothing, tonight had proven that. They'd been one bad auction away from losing everything.

Adrian Virelli had saved them. He'd saved me from watching my family crumble.

This was the price.

I looked at him. Really looked, past the tailored suit,  the impossible confidence and the face that belonged on magazine covers. I looked at the man who had just completely destroyed Marissa without even raising his voice. The man who had spent a fortune on a stranger and then offered her a way out that didn't involve his bed.

Three years was a small price to pay, I told myself. 

"I accept your terms, Mr. Virelli."

Alessia's POV 

The car ride to Adrian Virelli's mansion was quiet.

I sat in the back seat of the sleek black sedan, hands folded tightly in my lap. The driver hadn't said a word since picking me up from the small hotel Adrian had arranged for me to stay in the night after the auction. The city lights had slowly disappeared behind us, replaced by long stretches of road and towering trees.

Eventually the car turned onto a private road.

Tall iron gates appeared ahead, flanked by stone pillars and security cameras. The driver rolled down the window slightly and spoke into a small intercom. The gates opened with a slow mechanical hum.

Beyond them was a long driveway.

The mansion sat at the end of it like a fortress.

The car stopped in front of the entrance. The driver stepped out and opened my door.

"We're here, Miss Romano."

I nodded and stepped out, adjusting the strap of the small bag slung over my shoulder. Everything I owned now fit inside it. The rest of my belongings were still back at my parents' temporary apartment, but Adrian had insisted I move in immediately.

The front doors opened before I could knock.

A woman in a crisp black uniform stood there. She looked to be in her fifties, with silver streaks running through her dark hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing.

"You must be Miss Romano," she said.

"Yes."

"I'm Mrs. Davenport. I manage the household."

She stepped aside, allowing me inside.

The interior of the mansion was even more intimidating than the exterior. The foyer alone was larger than my parents' living room. 

The house was spotless and quiet.

Too quiet for a house where a child lived.

"Mr. Virelli isn't home yet," Mrs. Davenport said as she led me farther inside. "But he instructed us to show you to your room and introduce you to Miss Ava."

"How old is she?" I asked, Adrian hadn't given me the opportunity to ask much about Ava, and he hadn't offered any information either.

"Eight."

Mrs. Davenport led me down a long hallway lined with framed paintings and closed doors. The house seemed endless.

"This will be your room."

She opened a door.

The room inside was simple but elegant. A large bed sat against the wall, covered in crisp white sheets. There was a desk near the window and a wardrobe already stocked with neatly folded clothes.

"Mr. Virelli had clothing delivered earlier today," she said, noticing my glance.

Of course he had.

Before I could ask anything else, a small voice spoke from behind us.

"So you're the new nanny."

I turned.

A girl stood at the end of the hallway.

She had long dark hair tied loosely behind her head and sharp eyes that reminded me immediately of her father. She wore a simple sweater and jeans, but the way she stood made it clear she already owned the entire house.

This had to be Ava.

"Yes," I said gently. "I'm Alessia."

She walked closer, studying me openly.

"You look boring."

I blinked.

"Miss Ava what are you doing outside you're ballet class?" Mrs davenport chided.

"She quit." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, the action reminding me very much of her father, their resemblance uncanny.

"That's the fifth one this month." Mrs davenport whispered to herself.

"The last nanny cried on the second day." 

"Why....Did you make her cry?"

Ava tilted her head, considering the question.

"Maybe."

Mrs. Davenport cleared her throat. "Miss Ava, Mr. Virelli expects you to behave."

"I am behaving."

She didn't sound convincing.

"Come on," she said suddenly. "I'll show you the house."

Before I could respond, she turned and walked down the hallway.

Mrs. Davenport sighed softly.

"She always does this," she said under her breath. "Good luck, you're going to need it." She looked at me with pity as she patted my shoulders and  left.

I hurried after Ava.

She moved quickly, weaving through corridors and up a set of stairs. I had the growing suspicion she was deliberately walking fast to see if I could keep up.

"So," she said as we reached the second floor, "how long are you staying?"

"Three years."

She stopped walking, seconds passed before she turned slowly.

"You're lying, no one ever stays that long." she said like she was stating a fact.

"I'm not lying, I do really need this job."

She eyed me suspiciously.

"Why would my dad pay almost a billion dollars for you."

"I- I, he didn't" I sputtered

"Lying to me won't get you anywhere,I overheard it from one of the staff members." She crossed her arms 

"It's not what you think ava."

"It's miss Ava to you." She turned and went further down the corridor leaving me to chase after her.

"I left one of my dolls in there," she said casually, pointing toward the door. "Get it for me."

"Why can't you get it yourself?" I may not have grown up with wealth like hers but I certainly not poor either, I wasn't used to being pushed around by a kid.

"Did my dad hire you to ask questions?" she said coolly.

She was nothing like an eight year old.

Three years I reminded myself  as I clenched my fists.

"No, Miss Ava." I said, forcing a smile 

The moment I turned the doorknob, a hand clamped around my wrist.

Hard.

I gasped.

"Who allowed you in this wing?" Adrian Virelli's voice was cold with anger.

"Sir, Ava sent me to get one of her dolls." I said wincing, I looked behind me.

Ava was gone.