I whirled around so fast he didn’t see it coming. The knife pressed against his neck, my heart pounding. Seven years later, and he was still tried. The first year I pretended to be the perfect nanny, he never made a move, until that first night, when his hand brushed against my thigh.
“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” His hand rose, his eyes flicking to the knife. I should pull it back, so as not to raise suspicion. But rage surged every time I saw that smug look.
I pushed aside the urge to hurt him. Not yet. Too soon.
I smiled and leaned in. “You’ve got a little loose thread here, sir.” I cut it with the knife, holding his gaze. Fear flashed, then vanished.
Instead of backing off, he stepped closer, his hand curling around my waist.
“I’m sending a dress to your room. I want you in it tonight at the dinner party,” he said. Something burned inside me.
I smiled, lips near his ear. “Careful, sir. Some toys bite when you play with them.” I slipped away. His hand dropped.
“Please leave.”
He smirked. “Playing hard to get? I love it.”
He stepped closer. “I can give you everything, Evelyn. Money, jewels, a penthouse. All of this,” he gestured around the kitchen, “is mine. Say yes, and it’s yours too.”
I looked him dead in the eye, still smiling.
In my head: Everything here was already mine. You stole it while I burned. Out loud: “No.”
He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Keep saying no, baby. Makes the chase sweeter.” Then he sauntered away.
The second he left, I slammed the knife into the chopping board. It stuck upright.
My hands shaking, I gripped the counter, chest heaving.
Breathe, Isabella.
Soon.
Soon, they’ll beg.
They’ll bleed for it.
I closed my eyes, picturing the day I’d watch them burn the way they watched me.
The dinner party was in full swing downstairs, music floating through the air.
“But why can’t I go down with you?” Lily asked softly, her eyes downcast. My heart twisted, but I couldn’t risk Chloe seeing her among the guests.
I adjusted her bow. “No, sweetheart. You can’t come down, but I promise I’ll be back with you soon, and then we’ll leave.”
Her small face fell. She didn’t want to go, but the first stage of my plan was already completed. She needed to see what kind of people her real parents were, to make what came next unfold more smoothly.
Seven years with Lily, Chloe’s own daughter under her roof and now those years were over. She had to leave for the next phase.
“But I don’t want to go… I don’t want to leave you here with them…” Tears spilled from her eyes, tugging at my heart.
“I’m not leaving you, and neither are you leaving me,” I whispered, brushing her tears away.
“You’re going to a beautiful school far away, where you’ll learn what I can’t teach you here. Remember how you said you hate this place?”
She sniffed. “But I’ll miss you, Mommy.”
Something cracked open in my chest. “I’ll visit every holiday. Every night you look at the moon, I’ll be looking too. Deal?”
She nodded, arms wrapping around my neck one last time. I kissed her forehead, closed the bedroom door, and let myself breathe before breaking down completely in the hallway.
Downstairs, the house gleamed. Crystal chandeliers, champagne flutes, music filling every corner.
My company’s anniversary gala, now bearing Gregory’s name.
I slipped in with a catering tray, scarf tight, eyes low.
Gregory stood at the center, arm around Chloe, both glowing like royalty on display. Old board members I once hand-picked toasted, “To Gregory’s genius.”
None noticed the woman serving their caviar.
I watched them laugh. Chloe fed Gregory from her plate like a lovesick teenager, and something dark coiled in my chest.
Then a tiny hand tugged my skirt.
I looked down.
Amelia.
“Nanny! I’ve been looking all over for you!” she whispered. “You look pretty tonight.” My throat tightened painfully. Her smile was soft, almost shy.
I knelt. “You look like a real princess tonight, sweetheart.”
She beamed, then lowered her voice. “I saved you a chocolate from the fountain. It’s in my pocket.”
I nearly cried. This was the Amelia I fought for, the tiny flicker of goodness I nurtured every night, teaching her to say “please” and “thank you,” showing her bravery is in kindness, not loudness.
Chloe undid it all in daylight with toys, tantrums, and “princesses don’t apologize.”
Still, moments like this proved my blood was stronger, impossible to erase. I opened my mouth to answer when…
“Amelia!”
“What are you doing talking to the nanny? Daddy is waiting.”
Her face fell. “But I just…”
“Now.”
Chloe dragged her away, then hissed low enough only I could hear: “Stop trying to get close to my daughter.”
She always did this. Every time Amelia and I shared more than ten seconds, Chloe appeared, ripping her away, watching as if afraid of something she couldn’t name.
I bowed my head, hiding the rage boiling dangerously inside me.
For the next hour, I circled with trays, invisible except for the hungry, salacious gazes of the men around, refilling champagne as old board members toasted, “to Gregory’s empire.”
Then I heard my real name.
“Isabella Harrington. How’s she doing these days? Early retirement in Europe, right?”
Gregory laughed. “Exactly. She wanted a quiet life. Gave me everything and disappeared. Best decision she ever made.”
The men laughed along with him.
I froze, the tray trembling in my hands.
He raised his glass. “To the woman who gave me everything!”
Glasses clinked.
My vision went red.
Everything?
He took my company. My child. My whole life. And now he toasted me like I was a ghost.
I took two steps forward, fingers tightening around the silver tray. One more step and I would’ve smashed it into his skull…
Then a scream tore through the room.
“MUMMY! HELP!”
Lily.
The whole room turned.
My blood turned to ice, cold, absolute terror.
Something was wrong. I dropped the tray and ran…