Shay’s lashes trembled.
"But," Lara added softly, brushing hair from the girl’s face, "you can call Mommy anyti you want, okay? Wherever. Whenever."
For a second, Shay just stared at her. Then she smiled—shy, but real.
Like that was enough.
Like Lara had just given her the whole world.
"Really?" Shay asked in a sweet voice. "Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise."
Lara’s big pinky finger curled slightly, hooked it around Shay’s small one.
Sothing ugly twisted in Sarah’s chest. She forced a smile, but it felt brittle.
Mommy? How could Shay call her that?
If anyone looked like they belonged beside their boss, it should be .
My ex-boyfriend used to say so all the ti. He called gorgeous and said I had a killer figure, a dark beauty. Any rich man would be lucky to show off.
Not so soft-faced nobody who showed up out of nowhere.
Sarah clasped her hands tighter, nails digging into her palms.
Let the kid cling to her for now. I am just the new nanny. There is no rush.
Sarah kept her expression mild, almost gentle.
Children were easy. All it took was patience and a lot of praise. A little sweetness. A little ti.
I could be sweetness itself if I had to. Kneel down to Shay’s level. Braid her hair. Read her bedti stories. Make her feel like the center of the universe, make her feel like a real princess.
Once Shay trusted ... once she liked better... getting closer to the master of the house would be simple.
And when that day ca, Larissa wouldn’t stand a chance.
Sarah’s smile widened, thin and sharp as a blade.
She could wait.
Lara, still crouched beside Shay, suddenly glanced up.
Their eyes t.
The smile on Sarah’s face stiffened.
There was nothing openly hostile in Lara’s gaze. No anger but only a quiet sharpness. It was as if she saw far more than she let on.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, a chill crept up Sarah’s spine.
What a cold glare.
She lowered her lashes and spoke softly. "Larissa, the driver has arrived."
The drop-off area had emptied while they talked. Their car waited alone near the curb, sleek and dark beneath the midday sun.
Lara rose smoothly and helped Shay into the back seat, movents unhurried and assured. There was sothing steady about her presence—sothing that made the space around her feel settled.
Sarah stepped forward and reached for Shay’s hand. "Careful, sweetheart—"
Shay imdiately shook her off and clung to Lara instead.
"I want Mommy."
The word struck Sarah like a slap. She kept smiling.
"Of course," she said lightly, though her fingers curled into her palm.
Sarah got into the passenger seat, buckled up, and turned toward the window, hiding her face.
Her reflection stared back at her—gentle smile, kind eyes, the perfect nanny. No one ever suspected the quiet ones.
That was fine. If warmth didn’t work, she had other thods.
Trust could be built. Reputations could be damaged.
Accidents could happen.
Slowly, patiently, she would find her chance. Her gaze drifted to Lara’s reflection beside Shay.
She looked calm, confident, and untouchable.
For now. Sarah’s smile deepened. She had ti.
And ti was always on the side of the patient.
...
"Mommy," Shay’s voice broke the quietness in the car, "Let’s go to the mall first. I want to buy clothes and shoes for Sandro. I’ll give them to him tomorrow."
"Okay," Lara agreed.
"Alright," Lara replied without hesitation.
Her tone was calm, certain—the kind that didn’t invite debate.
Sarah quickly interjected, "But Little Princess, shouldn’t we tell your father first? I will call him." She had already taken out her phone. Calling him directly felt appropriate and responsible.
As a nanny, she was given Ares’ personal number for ergencies.
"What are you doing?" Lara asked.
Her voice wasn’t loud. Yet Sarah froze.
There was a quiet authority in the question that made it feel less like curiosity and more like a warning.
"I’m going to call Sir Ares," Sarah said. "To update him."
"Send a ssage," Lara said evenly. "If he’s in a eting, a call will only alarm him. He’ll assu sothing’s wrong with Shay."
The decision was delivered so simply it didn’t sound like an argunt.
It sounded final.
Sarah’s finger hovering on the call button paused. She looked at Lara, her gaze carrying a resentnt quickly masked by a forced, polite smile.
"Yes... of course."
She lowered her phone and typed instead.
A mont later, a phone rang.
Sarah’s fingers paused, and she glanced at her phone’s screen.
The ringing phone was not hers but Lara’s.
She watched as Lara answered with a frown.
"Ares here. Pass the phone to Shay." The voice was direct and commanding, just as when Alaric commanded his ministers to perform tasks.
Lara shook her head, trying to dispel the thought. What the heck was that?
Sarah’s chest tightened. She had sent the ssage. So why wasn’t he calling her?
"Your Dad," she said as she passed the phone to Shay.
"Yes, Daddy." Shay’s sweet voice sounded jarring to Sarah. "I want to buy clothes for my new classmates. He looked really pitiful."
Shay paused as if listening to her father’s instructions.
"But Daddy, he is a beneficiary of the Zuvel Foundation. Wouldn’t our good na be tarnished if our beneficiary looked like a beggar and was being bullied?"
The corner of Lara’s lips curled up. The little girl knew how to play her cards well.
After Shay finished talking, she bead and handed the phone back.
"Mommy, Daddy wants you."
Mommy.
Daddy.
Lara paused. Once again, she felt awkward. Listening to Shay, even she felt that Ares was her husband. She wanted to complain, but she rembered the pinky promise she had made earlier.
Lara accepted the phone with composed ease.
"Sir." She said, her tone polite yet distant.
There was a pause.
"Take care of Shay. She does not normally go to the mall, so I am surprised that she wanted to do so now."
"Don’t worry, I will take care of her," she said with the sa indifference as the man on the phone.
"There are secret bodyguards," Ares added.
Lara noticed a second car behind their driver. They must be the guards.
"Sir,"
"It is Ares," the man cut her off. "Stop calling Sir." He sounded stern, but Lara could sense the irritation in his voice.
"Shay is already calling you Mommy, don’t make it too awkward by calling Sir."
"Alright, Ares," Lara said, conceding without hesitation. "Then tell how to identify the people assigned to guard Shay. I need sothing clear—faces, signals, anything distinctive. I don’t want to mistake them for a threat."
Her tone was calm and matter-of-fact, as though she was discussing sothing routine, not asking permission.
Then her voice hardened, just a fraction.
"And if soone pretends to be one of them," she continued, "I need to know how to tell before they get close."
A brief pause followed.
When she spoke again, it was quieter. Colder.
"Because if I can’t tell the difference..."
She didn’t finish the sentence.
She didn’t need to.
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