Nothing was as easy as Viviane had expected.

In the first few days, Viviane attended physical therapy and pushed herself to keep up with her daughter. As soon as she was discharged from the hospital, she returned to São Paulo and waited a week before insisting that her mother take her to her old house.

"Pietro doesn’t live here!" Otávia revealed. "Your ex-husband sold the house and signed the divorce papers just before being transferred to the company headquarters in Los Angeles."

Things became even more complicated. Viviane was still frail and much thinner. She was a skinny woman who hardly looked like the healthy one she had been.

Otavia whispered, "He remarried!"

"Please, don’t say another word." Vivian said softly.

"You are to blame!" Otávia got into a fight. "You abandoned Pietro. You might have been alright, taking care of your family, if you had stayed and fought.

"What family?" That was the first time Vivian faced her mother. "On the last night I spent in that house, he assaulted me and raped me. I almost died because of my daughter! That's why I ran away from that bastard."

With her back still turned, Otavía covered her tearful eyes. She could not accept Viviane's words, and so she denied them.

"I am going to the bathroom!"

"Truth hurts, doesn't it, Mom?" Viviane said, raising her voice.

She glanced at her short and rather pathetic mother that had given up after losing her husband and still managed to take her granddaughter's side. Using her crutch to support her, Viviane, at the open window, with her back to the room and the cortile, looked at the stars.

Viviane kept observing the cars from the fourth floor of the building going uptown. The call of death was very strong inside her. But what if Sofia needed her? Pietro had refused the child from the very beginning, so why had he taken the girl? She shut her eyes and started to imagine ways to recover her lost daughter.

__________________________________________________

A year later, Viviane went to physical therapy and her neurology appointments without her mother.

One day, she took the chance to go to the Welsch Corporation building, but the receptionist denied her entry. She even tried to bypass the security guard but was stopped before reaching the administration floor.

Two years after waking from the coma, she had lost hope. She spent her days locked in her room, depressed. One day, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. That same day, her daughter was turning four. Viviane wondered what Pietro would do for her daughter’s birthday. Would he take her to Disney? Or throw a party with whipped cream cake and unicorn balloons?

Viviane covered her head and sighed. She was lying to herself. Pietro had always hated celebrating birthdays. He rarely celebrated holidays with her, let alone with an unwanted daughter.

"Get up, Viviane!" Otávia turned on the light. "Out of that bed, now!"

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Stop torturing yourself over this. You’ll have other children soon."

Viviane lifted her head, shocked by the absurdity.

"Did you think that when my brother died?"

Otávia swallowed hard. That subject was still painful. Viviane’s brother had overdosed at a party while celebrating his college entrance exam results.

"Sorry, Mom!"

Viviane got out of bed and tried to hug her, but Otávia stepped back.

"I’ve been very patient with you, but this has gone too far," Otávia complained. "Take a shower and find a job. You need to leave my house."

Viviane rubbed her face. She shouldn’t have brought up that topic. Talking about her brother’s death was like touching an unhealed wound.

_____________________________________________

Two weeks later, Viviane went to her old school and spoke with the principal, who was sympathetic but said there were no vacancies.

She spent the morning looking for a job and dropping off resumes at private schools in the city. Passing by the Welsch Corporation building, she parked and walked toward where her ex-husband worked.

She bumped into the same man she had seen at a restaurant more than four years ago. Despite his inscrutable expression, he was handsome. Viviane had a faint memory of the man with brown hair and a defined jawline.

"I’m sorry!" a hoarse voice said. "Excuse me," he added in Portuguese this time.

"Don’t you watch where you’re going?" she snapped. "Move out of my way; I'm in a hurry."

Executives paused to look at the woman, still walking with the help of a crutch. She limped across the white tiled floor to the reception.

"I want to speak to Mr. Welsh."

"Sorry, he only sees people by appointment."

"My ex-husband is on the board. Pietro Müller!"

"One moment!" The slender receptionist typed quickly, checked her computer screen, and then picked up the phone. "Good morning, is Mr. Müller available?" she asked, frowning. "Thank you, and sorry for the trouble." The woman in a black suit glanced at the anxious Viviane. "Dr. Müller has been transferred out of the country."

"Can I have his phone number?"

"Sorry, that’s out of my authority," the receptionist said, turning to help someone else.

Not knowing what to do, Viviane rubbed her eyes. She heard the receptionist murmur something about sending nanny candidates to her office.

"Mr. Welsh wants me to find a nanny by the end of today."

"Hi!" Viviane insisted.

"I already told you, I can’t help you," the receptionist replied.

"I’m one of the candidates for the nanny position…"

The HR manager looked at her with disdain.

"Follow me!"

On the administration floor, Viviane waited. Young, delicate-looking women arrived and sat next to her. There were four blondes and one brunette.

"She won’t be hired!" one candidate whispered, raising her chin at Viviane’s crutch. "A child runs a lot and makes trouble; you need to be healthy and strong."

Despite the negativity, the desperate mother refused to give up. She was determined to take this job to find her daughter.

"Viviane Bernardi," the manager called.

Leaving the crutch behind, she struggled toward the door under condemning stares.

"I couldn’t find your resume," the woman on the other side of the desk said.

"My ex-husband recommended me for the position," Viviane lied boldly.

"Is that so?" She raised her thick eyebrows.

"Pietro Müller."

"Oh, yes!" The robust woman frowned and organized the papers on her desk. "Have you worked with children before?"

"I’m a teacher," Viviane smiled, recalling her work. "I love children. I taught for over ten years in a school."

"That’s good!" the manager said, pleased. "Do you speak Portuguese?"

"Sim, eu falo!" she answered quickly.

"Great!" The manager returned the smile.

"Your resume is excellent, but how would you handle a child running around the park?"

Embarrassed, Viviane glanced at one of her legs and sighed. Her limitation could be an obstacle for the coveted CEO nanny position.

"I understand," she said, standing. "Thank you very much."

As she left the room, Viviane didn’t even pick up her crutch. The next candidate was called while she waited for the elevator. She felt so discouraged that she stepped in and stopped beside the same man she had bumped into in the hotel lobby.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked her.

The door to the private elevator opened into a white room, adorned with paintings and mirrors that made the large office appear even more sophisticated.

Viviane's cheeks burned, and her skin flushed when she saw the man sitting behind the massive desk.

"I'm sorry!" she stammered, standing still, trying to recover from her embarrassment. "How do I get out of here?"

"With this!" Gabriel said, holding up an access card and tossing it onto the desk. "What are you doing in my company?"

"I came for a nanny interview, but..." she trailed off, unable to finish. She was unable to articulate anything after the uncomfortable situation.

Not only had she ended up in the owner's office, but she also felt ashamed of how she had treated Gabriel just moments before the interview.

"What's your name?" Gabriel's impassive expression scrutinized her as if analyzing every detail.

In a hushed voice, she replied, "Viviane Bernardi,sir."

Gabriel scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave her a piercing look. At that moment, Viviane realized her chance of finding her daughter was slipping away. So she asked, "Could you open it, please, Mr. Welsh?" She stepped aside as he exhaled heavily and went to the white door.

"Get the hell out of my office!" he ordered, gesturing toward the elevator.

Resigned, she limped into the metal box.

In the private elevator mirror, she noticed her wrinkled white blouse and unkempt hair. Her dull, frizzy strands were pulled into a messy bun. Not even her impressive resume could help her secure this position.

Gabriel Welsch was known as the cold, strict CEO, showing no mercy when an employee made a serious mistake. After yelling for hours at the manager in charge of the Information Technology department, he demanded that he be more careful when hiring interns, since one of them had used the company computer to watch movies and ended up accessing a malicious site that installed malware on the company's computers.

"I already gave him a warning..." the manager said.

"Fire him," Gabriel ordered, staring at the downcast man. "I don't want this to happen again, or you'll be the next one I let go."

"Yes, Mr. Welsch!" The shorter man stood up. "Anything else you need?"

"Get out!" came the cold voice.

With his hands shoved into his pants pockets, he gazed at the busy street through the glass. The sun shone above the skyscrapers scattered across the city. In one of those hotels, Gabriel had woken up in the middle of the legs of a beautiful girl he had spent the night with.

Since his wife's death, he often sought solace in bars where he was unknown. Despite his arrogance, Gabriel wore clothes that didn't attract much attention. Most women assumed he was just another executive working for Welsch Corporation.

Although widowed, he felt the need to relax at least twice a week. His good looks made it easy to find a woman who desired him.

One night, in São Paulo's capital, he found a lonely girl who, in a short time, was tangled in his body on the rumpled sheets of a cheap motel.

Gabriel was a vigorous and demanding lover. He took pleasure in all possible ways and gave satisfaction to the woman who welcomed him. Sometimes, this created an attraction he dismissed.

He always left before the lover woke up but asked the hotel staff to deliver flowers during breakfast. Rarely did he see the same woman more than once. He didn't want to make the same mistake of falling in love. He had grown accustomed to this lifestyle and enjoyed this version of Gabriel Welsch.

That morning, he took a taxi and called the secretary who took care of his daughter. It seemed Elizabeth didn't want to eat and was crying to see her father. Since her mother passed away, the girl didn't like staying with her grandmother.

"I'm busy!" he barked. "Put her in front of a cartoon and have the HR manager hire a nanny today," he yelled, ending the call.

He shoved his phone into his pocket and bumped into a medium-height woman who confronted him. He locked eyes with her green pupils staring at him. Even after she apologized-which was not something he often encountered-Gabe was shocked by the visitor's rudeness. If the executives watching the scene had told her this was the company CEO, she would have feared the tall man standing before her.

"Dad!" The little girl with golden curls ran into his arms. "I don't want to stay with her," she whispered, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fingers.

"Want to go to the park tomorrow?"

"Yes!"

Gabriel hugged her tightly. Elizabeth was the only one who could melt his heart. He would give his life for his daughter.

"Liz ran off," the breathless woman approached. "I'm sorry, but I'm too old for this, Mr. Welsch."

"I promise today is the last day."

He focused on the HR manager with a dark look. His employee was mortified with fear. For a few seconds, Gabe focused on the platinum-haired woman at the reception desk but then shifted his gaze to his daughter.

"Daddy!" The little girl tugged on his ear and giggled. "I want ice cream!"

"Ms. Mills will get it for you!"

"I'm sorry to interfere, sir, but Liz should have a nutritious breakfast."

"Just today!" He handed his daughter to the secretary.

He signaled to the security guard and looked back at the counter; the stunned woman was gone.

"Need anything, sir?"

"Find a short blonde woman and kick her out of the building."

Shortly before heading to the conference room on the rooftop, he stopped by the administration floor. He opened the door and slammed it behind him. The woman, mortified behind her desk, watched him.

"This is for today!" he said loudly. "I hope you do your job, or tomorrow you can start looking for another one."

"Yes, sir!"

Gabriel left and went straight to the boardroom. He spent less than an hour hearing about new investments in oil, real estate, and software. After making a few decisions, he decided to fire the marketing manager.

"Why?"

Mr. Welsch looked at an older gentleman with white hair who asked seriously-the only one who wasn't afraid of him.

"He managed a marketing team that didn't achieve the expected results."

"Your father would have..."

"My father is dead, Mr. Gutierrez," he barked at his father's former partner. "I own this whole damn thing and run it the way I want," he slammed his fist on the table.

As he left the room, he passed by some female employees who couldn't stop flashing smiles. Even angry, he nodded politely. He had to maintain decorum without giving an opening.

He swiped his access card to enter the elevator. The woman looking back got in. Gabe asked where she was going, and yet the short green-eyed woman answered rudely. Her aggression vanished when the door opened.

She assessed the man in simple clothes-ones even her ex-husband refused to wear-and looked around. It was clear she was lost and confused.

_____________________________

In the afternoon, Gabriel twirled a pen between his fingers, recalling the woman who had limped into the private elevator. She kept her head down until the door closed.

On impulse, he picked up the phone and pressed the buttons quickly. Impatient with the delay, he began tapping his shin.

"Have you found that bastard yet?" His voice was heavy with anger. He took a deep breath while touching the picture frame with his daughter's photo. "Do your job properly. I'm paying you for this!" Gabriel shouted and then slammed the phone down with full force.

He lifted his face just as he heard the elevator door open.

"Excuse me, sir!" The HR manager entered, extending her hand toward the man with a terrifying scowl. "I've chosen two candidates." She handed over two sheets.

Gabriel lowered his head and reviewed the first candidate's information, then the resume and evaluation of the second.

"Do you think they're qualified?" He threw the sheets on the desk.

"If you give me one more day..."

"That's enough." He banged his fist on the desk. "I wanted the nanny hired today."

The woman shrugged and paused to think.

"There was a candidate who was an educator. She taught young children for ten years."

"Where's her resume?"

"Well..." She hesitated and looked away before continuing, "Viviane Bernardi has a small problem with one of her legs. It might be a little inconvenient..." She fell silent, noticing Gabe's stern expression.

At that moment, Gabriel remembered the woman who had entered his office. He slapped the desk with an open hand.

"Call Viviane."

"But, sir..."

"I said call her," Gabe shouted.

After the manager left, he picked up the phone and dialed. He leaned back in his chair, waiting for the call to connect.

"Dig into Viviane Bernardi's life," he ordered.

At home, Viviane typed the formidable name and searched everything about Mr. Welsch's life online.

News sites reported the tragic car accident that had taken his wife Rachel's life. The widowed CEO, besides running his companies, also cared for a beautiful little girl. There was only one photo of him with his daughter, taken on the day of his wife's funeral. His heart softened seeing the attachment the little girl had to her father.

Viviane clicked on a site discussing Rachel's suspicious death. According to the journalist, one of the CEO's employees had been in the car with his wife; however, he survived but fled the scene.

"VIVIAN."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her mother's voice coming from the kitchen. She quickly clicked the mouse, closing all the open pages.

"What is it, Mom?" She called, walking as fast as she could.

"Someone wants to speak with you."

Viviane left the room and went to the living room. Picking up the phone, she answered promptly:

"Hello!" A smile split her face in two. "Of course I can."

She gestured for her mother to grab a pen.

"What's the address?" She paused as the woman spoke on the other end. "A car will pick me up?" The smile vanished. "O-Of course I can," she stammered.

Otávia sat down and crossed her legs, observing her daughter's excitement.

Viviane placed the pen on the glass side table next to the sofa, ended the call, and quickly left the living room.

"Where are you going?" Otávia followed Viviane.

"I need to stop by the salon to get my hair cut and pack my bags."

"For all that?"

"I got a job..." She kissed her mother.

In the living room, she rummaged through the jar on the sideboard and grabbed her keys.

"I'll use your car."

Viviane had used the money she'd saved from selling her own car to fix her disheveled appearance.

After taking care of her hair and nails at the salon, she went to the mall and bought two dresses, a pair of shoes, and a teddy bear for the little girl.

As soon as she returned to her mother's apartment, she went straight to her room to pack her bags.

"What are you doing?" Otávia stopped at the door.

"I'll have to sleep at work, Mom..." she said while placing a few coats in the suitcase. "I accepted a job as a nanny."

"You're a teacher; you could find a teaching job."

"I have to do this, Mom!" Viviane hugged her mother tightly.

Getting close to Mr. Welsch would help Viviane gain the trust of her ex's boss. According to the woman on the phone, Viviane would soon have to travel to Los Angeles with the CEO's family.

She read the message on her phone screen, grabbed the suitcase handle, and dragged it down the hall to the exit.

________________________________

In the black Mustang, Viviane sat tense and thoughtful. She feared the CEO wouldn't like her work or might dismiss her because of the problem with her leg.

The car passed through a gate with golden bars and continued through the neighborhood to a luxurious house where Mr. Welsch stayed with his mother and daughter whenever he came to Brazil.

One of the staff escorted Viviane to the living room, furnished with pieces worth five times her teacher's salary. The polite woman had short black hair. Kate wore a pink silk blouse and black pants.

"Seja bem-vinda!" Katherine greeted warmly.

"Speak English, mom!" A deep, intimidating voice filled the room. "Your hair is different!" He scanned Viviane from head to toe.

Despite the cane, there was something different about the composed woman who entered his office the day before. Viviane wore a black blazer over a white blouse, paired with a pencil skirt.

"Come in!" Kate invited her. "I want you to meet Elizabeth before dinner."

Gabriel stepped aside to take a call, leaving his mother to introduce his daughter to the new nanny. Little Elizabeth was in the playroom, finishing her Lego tower.

"Dad, Dad!" The child's smile faded when she realized he wasn't her father.

"He's working," her grandmother replied brusquely.

Katherine treated the child as if she were an adult. She had raised Gabriel the same way, avoiding spoiling him.

The sulking child kicked the tower, scattering the Lego pieces across the pink carpet.

"I want my dad!" Elizabeth crossed her arms and pouted.

"If you don't behave, you'll be punished in your room!" Kate scolded her granddaughter.

Viviane remembered the teddy bear, took the colorfully wrapped box from her bag, and crouched down.

"Hi!" She approached the girl. "I brought a gift."

Katherine didn't seem to approve of the new nanny's action. She stepped forward. "We don't usually give her gifts when..."

"Please stop, Mom!" Gabriel's hoarse voice interrupted Katherine.

The girl smoothed her floral dress and hugged Viviane before taking the box.

"Open it, honey!" Gabriel commanded.

Outraged, Katherine left the playroom. Her upbringing was strict; she didn't accept Viviane's interference in her granddaughter's care.

Elizabeth hugged the teddy bear and showed it to her father.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, Dad!"

"Muito obrigada, senhora Bernardi." The child thanked her in Portuguese.

"How do you say that in English?" He winked at his daughter.

Smiling at Viviane, the child replied, "Thank you, Miss Bernardi."

"You're very smart," said Viviane, touching the girl's fair skin.

"Put your toys away!" The man ordered from the doorway. "Dinner is almost ready."

Viviane picked up some of the scattered Lego pieces and placed them back in the box.

"Miss Bernardi, stand up!" he commanded. "Elizabeth made a mess, so she has to organize everything."

Even though she felt sorry for the girl, Viviane obeyed the CEO. She admired the child and wondered if her own daughter was disciplined the same way in another country.

"Yolanda!" the hoarse voice bellowed.

“Yes, Mr. Welsch!” replied the housekeeper.

"Take the nanny to one of the guest rooms." Gabriel ordered.

"Of course, sir!"

Glancing once more at the girl, Viviane held the suitcase handle. She crossed the doorway but was stopped by a firm hand on her arm.

"Dinner will be served at seven o'clock." Gabriel advised the nanny.

"Yes, sir!"

Her whole body shivered at the masculine touch and the cold gaze of the dark-faced man. Her eyes were fixed on the man who had just turned thirty-two.

"Don't be late!" He released her hand.

At that moment, Viviane realized Gabe would never tolerate anyone questioning his authority.

Head down, she moved away from the well-built man and followed the housekeeper, who led her to the room.

The beige carpet matched the neutral décor. There was a double bed and a walk-in closet twice the size of the wardrobe she used in her mother's apartment.

Looking at the golden watch on her wrist, she noted she had forty minutes to get ready for dinner.

Viviane grabbed a black knit dress with short sleeves and slipped it on. She ran her hands through her platinum hair and then applied a light pink gloss to her lips. She sprayed a little perfume on her neck and wrists.

Seven minutes before dinner, Viviane left the room and walked down a massive corridor. She turned right and continued. The house was so large she had no idea where she was. A baritone voice came from one of the doors, filling the space.

"That bastard didn't just steal my money; he destroyed my family."

Curious, she kept listening. Perhaps Gabriel was speaking to Pietro.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold," he said arrogantly. "Don't forget to send me the information I asked for by email."

There was sudden silence. Viviane quickened her pace to try to leave but ran into the man opening a door.

“Are you spying on me?” he asked sharply.

"No, no, sir!" She replied in a trembling voice.

Gabriel was as stubborn as her ex-husband. He had the same mannerisms as Pietro, which scared her a little.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was heading to the dining room, sir."

Frightened, Viviane tried to walk without looking at the CEO.

"Come!" He grabbed her forearm and pulled her into the office.