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.

Alessia's POV 

By the end of the first week, I had learned three things about living in Adrian Virelli's mansion.

First, the house had more cameras than a bank.

Second, the staff spoke in careful whispers whenever Adrian's name came up.

And third, Ava Virelli was a walking disaster wrapped in an eight-year-old's body.

After the incident with the forbidden wing, Adrian had given me a very clear warning.

Stay out of that part of the house.

There had been no explanation, no discussion, just an order delivered in that cold voice that made it clear he wasn't used to being questioned.

Since then, I had done exactly that.

I stayed where I was supposed to stay. I followed Mrs. Davenport's instructions. And most importantly, I learned to watch out for Ava.

Because Ava liked games.

One day she swapped the sugar in my tea for salt and watched quietly while I took a sip. Another time she hid my phone somewhere in the library and observed me from the staircase as I spent nearly an hour searching for it.

She never admitted to anything but I knew.

She just watched like she was waiting to see how long it would take before I broke.

But I didn't break.

I couldn't afford to.

Three years, I reminded myself constantly.

Three years and my family would be safe.

Saturday morning was strangely quiet.

Adrian had left early for work, and most of the staff had the day off except for the security guards stationed outside the gates. Even Mrs. Davenport had disappeared into another wing of the house to handle inventory.

Which meant it was just me and Ava.

That alone should have made me nervous.

But the day started... peacefully.

Suspiciously so.

We were sitting in the garden behind the mansion, where trimmed hedges lined the stone paths and the enormous pool shimmered under the afternoon sun.

Ava sat cross-legged on the grass beside me, slowly pulling apart a daisy.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "you're the only nanny who didn't cry during her first week here." She mused out loud.

I glanced at her. "Should I be concerned?"

"Probably." She shrugged like the thought didn't bother her in the slightest.

Then she looked up at me.

"You're really  not leaving?"

The question caught me off guard.

"No, I'm not."

"Why?"

I couldn't say it was because your father bought my life for a billion dollars.

Instead I said, "Because I said I'd stay."

She studied me for a long moment, her sharp eyes searching my face as if she were trying to decide whether I meant it or not.

Then something unexpected happened. Before I could react, she walked over and wrapped her arms around me.

I froze instantly.

In the entire week I had been here, Ava had never touched me,not even by accident.

The hug was sudden and awkward, her small arms squeezing my waist.

For a moment, my guard slipped.

Maybe this was her way of making peace. Maybe she had finally decided I wasn't going anywhere and was willing to accept it.

Tentatively, I relaxed and returned the hug.

That was when everything went wrong. Ava shifted her weight suddenly, grabbing the front of my shirt.

Before I understood what she was doing, she leaned backward-hard.

Pulling me with her.

A loud splash echoed across the yard.Cold water swallowed us instantly.

The shock knocked the breath from my lungs as I plunged beneath the surface.

When I resurfaced, gasping for air, Ava was already several feet away from me in the pool.

And screaming.

"Help!"

My heart skipped.

"Alessia pushed me!"

The words echoed across the garden.

For a moment I just stared at her, stunned by how quickly it had happened.

She had pulled me into the water... then shoved herself away... and now she was acting like I had attacked her.

Footsteps thundered across the stone tiles.

"Ava!"

Adrian's voice exploded across the yard.

Before I could even process what was happening, he dove into the pool.

Water crashed around us as he reached Ava first, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.She clung to his shoulders, trembling dramatically.

"I'm fine, Daddy," she sniffled.

Adrian didn't seem to hear her.

His dark eyes snapped toward me, blazing with fury.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded.

My chest tightened.

"It's not what it looks like." I tried to defend myself.

"You pushed her into the pool?" His voice was ice cold. "She's eight years old!"

"I didn't-"

"You are responsible for her safety, how could you be so careless?" The venom in his voice sent shivers down my spine.

"I know that but-"

"You're her nanny," he cut in sharply. "Act like one."

Shock rendered me speechless.

He carried Ava out of the pool and wrapped a towel around her shoulders.

She peeked at me from behind him and smirked.

By evening, the cold had settled deep into my bones.

I sat on the edge of my bed wrapped tightly in a blanket while steam curled from the bowl of soup Mrs. Davenport had placed it on the bedside table.

"You should drink it while it's hot," she said gently.

"I will."

She studied me for a moment with a knowing expression.

"I warned you," she said. "Miss Ava is not a typical child."

"That's one way to put it." I said bitterly

Mrs. Davenport sighed softly.

"She's just misunderstood...She's been abandoned by every woman who tried to care for her."

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"The first nanny left after two weeks. The second lasted three days. The governess before you lasted exactly twenty-six hours."

"That's... comforting." I sighed.

She patted my shoulder sympathetically.

"Just be careful."

Then she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

The silence that followed felt heavier than before. I stared down at the untouched soup.

Could I really survive three years here?

Maybe it wasn't worth it.

Maybe I should leave before things got worse. 

Before Ava's games escalated.

Before Adrian's distrust hardened into something more permanent and dangerous.

A knock sounded on the door.

Before I could answer, it opened.

Adrian stepped inside.

He looked different tonight, less controlled somehow, the sharp edges of his usual composure slightly worn down.

"I owe you an apology," he said.

I blinked.

"What?"

"I reviewed the security footage."

Understanding slowly dawned on me.

"And?"

"And Ava pushed herself into the pool." He paused trying to gauge my reaction when I remained quiet he continued.

"She pulled you in with her, then pretended you did it."

He combed his hair backwards roughly with his hands.

"I shouldn't have blamed you without knowing the truth."

The apology sounded reluctant but genuine.

"She does things like this sometimes," he added.

"She frames people for attempted drowning?" I asked sarcastically.

"She's testing you."

I laughed bitterly. "Thats one hell of a test." 

His gaze sharpened.

"You're thinking of leaving." It wasn't a question.

"Ava isn't a bad child," he said quietly. "She's just hurt."

I crossed my arms.

"Hurt kids don't usually weaponize swimming pools."

"If you leave too... it will confirm exactly what she already believes, that no one ever stays."

The room fell silent again.

I exhaled slowly before I could speak, my phone lit up.

An unknown number had sent me a picture.

My stomach dropped when I opened it. It was a picture of Marissa with a positive pregnancy test.