My head is filled with different thoughts during the drive to the Thompson mansion. One of the most recurring one is what I would do if Mrs Jenkins and the twins want nothing to do with me again after I ran away from them the last time I was here.

Even though Theodore is the only one with the authority to terminate my employment for the next year according to the contract, running away from my job probably didn't do well for my professional image in Mrs Jenkins eyes. And as for the twins, they are seven and have probably forgotten everything about me by now.

Just this morning, I was convinced I'd never see the twins again and that the next time I see Mrs Jenkins would be to briefly tell her I'm resigning, but things have changed drastically since then.

Now I am returning to work for the man who broke my heart and who was a major player in my parent's death and everything that subsequently happened, as a corporate spy. Yet what I am most worried about is his children hating me.

The weight of my new role settles heavily on my shoulders and I let out a deep sigh.

Just then, the Thompson mansion comes into view and soon, the car is pulling up into its driveway.

"Thank you," I say to the driver as I alight, but he merely grunts in response and drives off. I guess punctuality must be a big deal to him and he is still upset about me keeping him waiting. Just two days into my job and apparently, I have a knack for pissing off all members of the Thompson household, staff included.

"Yay," I say sarcastically under my breath.

As I walk to the door, my mind drifts back to my encounter with Theodore this morning. Not the uncomfortable memory of our bodies pressed against each other. In fact, I mentally shove that part away, pretending it never happened.

Instead, I think about his anger and dismissive attitude after I called him out for his infidelity. The Theodore I knew would never cheat, or get angry at being called out for it. It is a sobering reminder that the Theodore I knew is gone, replaced by a ruthless and cunning individual.

With that thought, I knock on the large doors.

After a few moments of waiting, the door is opened by Mrs Jenkins, her expression a mixture of surprise and warmth. "Nova dear, how do you do?"

I smile sheepishly, feeling a twinge of guilt as I hear the familiar warmth in her voice. "I apologize. For leaving so abruptly last night. There is no justification for my lack of professionalism and...I just hope you can forgive me," I say with my head bowed.

Mrs Jenkins laughs her old, crackling laugh and opens the door wider. "Don't worry lass. All that matters is that you're here now. I know two young children who haven't stopped talking about you since yesterday," she says with a twinkle in her eyes.

My heart swells with unexpected joy at the thought of the twins missing me. "Shall we?" Mrs Jenkins asks as she invites me in.

"The twins are up in their room," she says as we walk deeper into the house. On noticing my confused face, she quickly gives me direction to both rooms and I go to the stairs. I quietly make my way up, feeling the excitement build in my chest with each step.

Following Mrs Jenkins' directions, I soon reach the door that has the name 'Emile' spelt on it in cute letters. I knock softly, waiting with my heart in my throat for a reply. When I get no response from either Emile's room or the next room with 'Ethan' spelt across the door, my brows furrow in confusion as I wonder where they are.

After a moment of silence, the corner of my lips lifts and I walk down the hallway quickly, eager to see if they are where I think they are. My suspicions are confirmed when I slowly open the door to my own room and the twins are seated on my bed with my violin sandwiched in between them.

Ethan throws his little hands up in mild annoyance. "Nova is a violinist, Emile! She's the only one who can play "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" on that thing."

His sister doesn't listen to him though. Instead, she runs her hand over the strings, enthusiastically plucking at them and filling the room with discordant music...or rather, noise.

"If you make so much noise..." Ethan starts in a whisper, but when another rough note sounds from the violin, he abandons whispering and speaks clearly to be heard above the sound. "If you make so much noise, Mrs Jenkins will find us and scold us for entering Miss Nova's room without her permission."

"I'm sure I can make it play if I can figure out the right string to touch," Emile says with her face scrunched up in concentration as she continues to touch strings at random.

The interaction between the children makes me laugh under my breath and I open the door wider, announcing my presence. "I guess that's one way to learn how to play the violin."

The twin's eyes widen as they turn to face me. One second they are sitting on the bed staring at me with big, innocent eyes, and the next they are a blur of excitement as they run into my waiting arms.

"You came back!" Emile exclaims with barely contained happiness.

"I told you she would," her twin responds with a smug smile, but the grip he has on me is so tight, it is almost as if he's convincing himself that I am not a ghost.

I smile widely, squeezing them both in a tight embrace. "Of course I did! Who else will help Mrs Jenkins find her reading glasses?"

The twins burst into loud, innocent laughter that bounces throughout the room and fills my heart with joy.

As I hold them close, I feel a sense of belonging. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm exactly where I need to be.

Nova

As the days pass, I find myself getting even more attached to the twins. At first, I was worried about having to deal with Theodore every day, but a quick conversation with Xander on a phone call let me know that he is currently on a work trip, fully occupied, and I should not be expecting him home for days.

And so, I am able to give Emile and Ethan my full attention. Our daily routine has consisted of homeschooling and chores, followed by hours of playtime in my room.

"Ok so let's try to play it again," I say as I hand over my violin to Emile. She quickly sets it up how I taught her and folds her face in concentration.

Emile is the one who came up to me and asked me to teach them how to play the violin. At first, it was hard figuring out how to teach two young children to do something I learnt to do a long time ago, so when both of them begin to make progress I can only attribute it to them being naturally talented.

"That was so good, Emile," I say after she plays a few jerky but clear notes. "You have made so much progress."

A beaming smile spreads across her face as she passes the instrument to her brother sitting besides her.

While Emile rushes headlong into each new lesson, Ethan sits back and learns at a measured pace, his eyes lighting up with concentration as he picks up the basic skills.

So when Ethan easily picks up the melody Emile has been struggling with, I am not surprised. What does catch me off guard, is Emile's reaction.

Her face falls and her eyes well up with tears. "I hate playing this stupid violin," she exclaims with a trembling voice as she slams her bow down. Before I can react, she has jumped off the bed and runs out of the room, disappearing down the hallway In a flash.

In the silence she leaves behind, Ethan and I stare at each other and he offers me a small smile that does nothing to distract from the deep sadness in his eyes.

"She misses mommy," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "Mommy used to play the piano and Emile thinks that if she learns how to play an instrument, she can feel closer to her."

I am caught off guard as Ethan's words settle in like a puzzle piece. I have been working with the twins for weeks now and yet this is the first time I have heard either of them speak about their mother and I groan internally as I guess why.

"Ethan, can you wait here for a minute? I'll be right back." I hurry down to the kitchen, where Mrs Jenkins is busy preparing lunch.

"Mrs Jenkins?," I say slowly. How do I bring up such a sensitive topic? Maybe it is not my place to, but Emile's tear stained face flashes in my mind and I know I need to ask.

"I'm sorry to pry, but what happened to the twins' mother?"

Mrs Jenkins' hands pause mid motion and she turns to face me with a look of surprise and a hint of sadness. "You didn't know?" she asks with a low voice. "She died in an accident years ago."

*****

"We're here!" I say to the twins as we step out of the car. The afternoon sunlight casts a warm glow on the building as the twins inspect it curiously.

"Where is this?" is Emile's sulking response, but I can see the glimmer of excitement she has been trying to hide in her baby blue eyes since I told her we are leaving the house.

"Welcome to Harmony studios, the best music studio in the city," I say as we walk to the door. My voice drops to a whisper when we get closer to the entrance. "It is my dream to one day own it but don't tell the owner yet."

Ethan lets out an amused chuckle but Emile's face remains passive as it has throughout the drive here.

As I open the door, a symphony of sounds envelopes us, captivating the twins. A wide grin grows on my face as Ethan's immediately lights up and Emile's eyes widen.

"Well?" I ask, my eyes glistening with excitement. "Are you ready to enter a world of music?"

I lead them into the building, the sound of music growing clearer and more vibrant as we pass practice rooms where musicians hone their craft. The twins stare at each passing musician in awe and a sad smile filled with longing falls on my lips. One day, I will be the one playing on the other side of the glass, my music inspiring awe and admiration.

We arrive at a cozy room with a magnificent piano at the center. The pianist seated on it greets us with a nod and immediately begins to play a whimsical melody that fills the twins with wonder.

She starts out slow, but the familiar sound of "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" soon fills the room.

It was hard to convince the pianist to grant me this favor, even harder to convince Mrs Jenkins to let us come here.

But all that is worth it when I see the joy on the face of the twins. They stare at the piano, the simple melody holding them in a trance.

Ethan's eyes remain fixed on the pianist as the final notes fade away. "Wow," he breathes. Emile's gaze meets his and she completes his thoughts. "That was beautiful."

I pause, letting the lingering emotion from the music settle in before I steer the conversation to the real reason I brought them here. "You know, I think your mother's love for you is still very much alive," I say, repeating words I told myself after my parent's death to cope with the grief. "She might not be here physically, but I'm sure she would be incredibly proud of the person you're becoming, not just because of your talents, but because of who you are individually. You don't need to learn an instrument to know that."

I end with a small reassuring smile, not wanting to say more than I should. While I have experienced loss myself, I can't dictate what the twins have had to deal with since the passing of their mother. But I can support them as they process their grief.

Emile's eyes immediately fill up with tears and I instinctively open my hands, inviting her to seek comfort in them. She collapses into me, her small body shaking with sobs. Time stands still as she cries, her tears soaking into my shoulder.

When we are back home, I hold Ethan's hand as I carry a sleeping Emile up to her room and slowly lay her down on her bed, kissing her forehead before closing the door behind us.

"Ethan, are you ok?" I ask, concerned that he might feel left out.

"Thank you, Miss Nova, for helping Emile," he replies instead with a sincerity that is surprising coming from a seven year old.

I squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Anytime, Ethan."

As we walk down the hallway, I see a sliver of light coming from a door I have only ever seen locked close. "Ethan, why don't you go ahead and meet Mrs Jenkins? I need to use the restroom for a minute."

Once Ethan disappears from my view, I approach the door cautiously, my heart beating faster. I push it open and the door creaks softly, revealing an office.

Theodore's home office.

As my eyes land on the documents on top the desk, Kai's plan echoes in my head.

Theodore

I stand in front of the board of stakeholders, concluding the presentation I had prepared for them.

"...and we are confident that this approach will yield significant benefits and position our company for continued success," I finish.

The room bursts in applause and I watch seasoned business leaders and investors nod their heads in approval and relief.

I stand back with a satisfied smile and accept my well deserved praise. For the last few days, I have thrown myself into solving a sudden problem that threatened the company and now I have once again proven myself.

However, as the clapping dies down, one voice rises in skepticism. Reginald Sharpe, an old bastard who has always been vocally against my position as CEO. As he speaks, my smile slowly drops, replaced by undisguised disdain. It is no secret what we think of each other.

"Theo," he says condescendingly and my sneer deepens. "Your plan is innovative, as usual, but there is one area where you seem to be struggling."

Murmurs of curiosity fills the room as stakeholders whisper questions into each other's ears, giving Sharpe the reaction he desired.

"You have failed at building a relationship with the CEO of OmniCorp. Or have we forgotten that we need their help to stay ahead of the curve for this new technology in the market?" he says, his voice full of fake concern.

My eyes narrow at him, anticipating where this is headed.

"Connecting with the CEO is crucial," he continues. "And I think we all know Grant has a good relationship with him. Perhaps it is time we brought him aboard to help facilitate this partnership?" Sharpe's suggestion hangs in the air like a challenge.

My guts twist in unease. Grant's involvement will bring a host of problems. His impulsiveness and lack of discipline has led to more than a few scandals and he is sure to do something that needs me to clean up after him.

Not to mention that as my older brother, the one who was supposed to inherit the company instead of me, Grant is still a little sour about my position in the company.

Despite my reservations, I am aware that I can't shut down the idea. The CEO of OmniCorp is also not a stranger to the front pages of tabloids. All my efforts to connect with him have proved futile because he is someone so far removed from my core values. Grant and him on the other hand...

Reluctantly, I nod my head. "Very well. We should send an invitation over to Grant. Let's hope his...unique skills will help us close the deal."

Having to ask my brother for help leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I take a little solace in knowing that a leader is capable of making sacrifices to fulfill his responsibilities. Something Grant can never seem to learn.

As the meeting ends, I make my way to the parking garage, my mood darkening with each step.

"Button your jacket!" I snap at the intern crossing my path, unexpectedly letting my frustration boil over.

When I get to my car, I slide in, taking a deep breath to calm the storm brewing inside me as the car starts and my driver takes me home.

The days after Grant's arrival will be problematic, because problems follow my brother everywhere.

At home, I quietly climb the stairs, heading to my office where I can collapse and recharge before facing my babies again.

I explicitly instructed the staff to keep my office locked at all times, so when I get close and see the door slightly ajar, my jaw tightens.

I open the door wider. Nova, who is standing at my desk with her back turned against me and her eyes fixed on my documents, doesn't notice my presence.

What the hell is she doing snooping through my papers? I remember sending someone to drop documents off, but apparently, he didn't think of locking the door behind him.

Well, someone is getting fired today.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?"

Nova's eyes widen as she turns to face me, shuffling the papers behind her away.

"I...I came to clean your office," she stammers, her voice uncertain. "I saw the door open and thought I should take the opportunity tidy up." She never was a good liar.

I would be amused at her naivete if I wasn't already so pissed off. "And where are your cleaning materials?" I snap. "Or did you forget them after stealing the maid's job?"

"I didn't steal anything." Her eyes flash defensively. "The twins were tired after we went out and I left them to rest when I saw the door open."

My voice drops to a menacing growl as my anger threatens to erupt within my chest. Even within the walls of my home, my authority is being defied. "You took my children out of this house without my permission?"

Nova's eyes widen once again and she fixes her gaze on the floor as she realizes how careless her words were.

"Doesn't paragraph seven of the contract explicitly state that you are never to take my children out of these premises without my approval?" I hiss, my voice menacing.

"Well then fire me!" She says with fire in her eyes. "You want to know why I'm really here? It's to find that stupid fucking contract and figure out a way to get out of working for an asshole like you!"

I flinch, surprised by Nova's outburst. My voice rises as I retort. "So you can go back to leeching off your friend? My employee? And what happens when I fire her for recommending a shitty nanny? Then what?"

Silence fils the room. Moments pass, and I watch Nova's face crumble and tears well up in her eyes. My chest tightens when she looks up at me with glassy eyes and I remember how sensitive she actually is, even though she pretends to be tough.

Without another word, Nova rushes past me and into the hallway. My fingers twitch, wanting desperately to reach out and stop her, but I stand there rigidly.

Before I can rethink my decision, Ethan runs into the room with a wide smile on his face.

"Daddy!"

I force a smile and reach down, opening my arms to hug my son. As I hold him tightly, I feel a sense of relief wash over me and suddenly, all thoughts of Grant and the company are gone.

But I still find myself looking down the hallway after a certain nanny.