Abandoned and penniless, I became the nanny of a billionaire's autistic son

"Mary, my mother mentioned that an incredibly wealthy businessman is urgently looking for a live-in nanny. The sole condition is that she must be able to manage his autistic son. The monthly pay is 30,000 dollars. Do you want to give it a shot?"

The moment the line connected, Nancy's urgent voice came rushing through the speaker.

Hearing that the monthly salary was 30,000 dollars, Mary Potter was definitely tempted.

"With a salary that high, I absolutely want to take it, but there's no one available to look after Sasha..."

"My mom already explained your situation to them, and they are willing to let you bring Sasha along to stay at the estate, provided you can really connect with the child. I heard that the longest any previous nanny managed to last was just a single month."

Mary hesitated for a moment before asking, "Any specific details about the employer?"

"I heard he's a young master from a collateral branch of the Locke family. He has a five-year-old son with autism, but I don't know much else. While working as a nanny might not sound prestigious, the pay is exceptional, and you get to keep Sasha right by your side. A job like this is a rare find."

"Send me the address."

After hanging up the phone, she casually searched for information on Caspian Locke.

The search results were incredibly sparse, yielding only a single piece of old gossip news.

It was an article about Caspian being linked to a female celebrity, featuring paparazzi photos of the two of them exiting a restaurant together.

Because it was a candid shot taken from afar, the image was quite blurry, yet it was still obvious that the man was exceptionally tall, wealthy, and handsome.

1 Nathan Road.

The Locke residence was not the gaudy, opulent villa one might typically picture, but rather a striking, modern, minimalist manor.

"The master gave instructions for you to see the young master first. If the boy doesn't accept you, there will be no need for you to meet with the master at all."

After delivering the message, the butler turned and led the way toward the conservatory.

Mary held her daughter's hand tightly, quickening her pace to keep up.

The greenhouse was situated right behind the main estate building, housed beneath a massive glass dome that sheltered an array of rare and precious flora.

In the center of the greenhouse stood a large sand table, and seated right beside it was a boy around five years old.

This child had to be Quentin Locke, the young master with autism.

The boy was staring intently at a peculiarly shaped object in his hands. Mary recognized it immediately as a geometric rhombic dodecahedron.

Right then, Sasha suddenly broke into short, hurried strides and ran straight toward the sand table.

Seeing this, the butler scrambled to intervene, but she was already too far ahead.

The little girl rushed right up to the boy's side, tilting her head to inspect the model in his hands, her tiny face wrinkling in deep confusion.

"Big brother, what are you playing with?"

Quentin Locke completely ignored her.

He kept his head lowered, entirely absorbed in the geometric module before him.

Undeterred by the silence, Sasha watched him for a little while longer before suddenly stretching out her tiny finger to point at a solitary piece sitting on the edge of the sand table.

"Big brother, there should be a smaller piece placed right here. You put that one in the wrong spot."

Quentin stopped moving.

He slowly lifted his head and fixed his gaze on Sasha.

He possessed remarkably beautiful, deep, obsidian-like eyes, though they were entirely devoid of any emotion.

Any other child would have surely been terrified by such an unwavering, intense stare.

But Sasha wasn't bothered at all.

She blinked her eyes, then flashed a bright grin that revealed two sweet dimples.

"Big brother, you are so handsome."

Suddenly, Quentin picked up a small twig and began tracing 3.1415926535 into the sand...

Mary understood what he was doing instantly; he was writing out the digits of pi.

Sasha tilted her head to examine the sand table, her long eyelashes fluttering.

"Big brother, did you deliberately mess up this spot because the number that belongs here is actually 5, the tenth digit of pi?"

Quentin's lips curved upward slightly, revealing a very faint smile.

That was the first time Mary had ever seen the boy show any sign of a smile.

It was a beautiful, heartwarming expression that instantly made Mary feel a wave of tenderness in her heart.

"Miss Potter."

Suddenly, a voice resonated from behind them, causing a quiet hush to fall over the entire greenhouse.

Mary turned around.

A man stood framed in the doorway. He was backlit, obscuring his facial features, yet his tall, commanding silhouette left no doubt that he was a striking man.

He walked inside, dressed in casual attire with his sleeves relaxed and rolled up, exposing his well-defined forearms.

Mary's eyes immediately caught the Patek Philippe watch on his left wrist, which she estimated to be worth at least a million dollars.

The man first cast a glance toward the two children by the sand table.

The boy still held that faint, subtle smile on his face, but he was undeniably smiling.

A wave of complex emotions flashed through the man's eyes, blending intense surprise with a sense of quiet confirmation.

Then, his gaze shifted directly onto Mary.

Now that he was closer, Mary could see his face clearly.

His features were sharply defined, looking as though they had been sculpted with a chisel, accented by a pair of narrow eyes beneath distinct double eyelids.

She had seen this face online just last night, but the real person carried an aura far more intimidating than any photograph could convey.

This man will be difficult to deal with.

The thought had barely formed in her mind when the man spoke.

“I’ve reviewed your resume; there is a notable five-year gap in your professional history.”

Caspian Locke’s voice perfectly matched his demeanor—cold, sharp, and detached.

Mary met his piercing gaze, correcting him with a tone that was neither submissive nor arrogant.

"I prefer to view it as spending five years as a full-time mother. Because of that, I have a much better understanding of how to connect with a child and meet their needs."

Caspian pursed his lips, offering no clear reaction to her answer. "And you intend to have your daughter live here with you?"

Mary nodded firmly. "If you allow it, I guarantee my performance will exceed your expectations."

Caspian fell silent.

He walked over to the sand table, dropping into a squat to look his son directly in the eye.

"Quentin, do you like this little sister?"

Quentin didn't say a word, but he gave a small, distinct nod.

Caspian stood back up and turned his attention back to Mary.

"You used to be employed at Ernst & Young?"

Mary was caught off guard, entirely unsure of where this line of questioning was heading, but she answered instinctively.

"Yes, I worked at Ernst & Young for five years before I left to have Sasha."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, turning to give an order to the butler.

“Take her to the study and provide her with all the receipts, invoices, and ledgers for the daily household expenses spanning from last year to the present day.”

He then looked squarely at Mary. "I expect to see a flawless, comprehensive financial statement on my desk tomorrow morning. If your work passes inspection, you and your daughter may stay."

"Let's go."

Caspian scooped his son up into his arms, his voice softening noticeably as he spoke to the boy.

Quentin leaned his head against his father's shoulder, but his eyes remained glued to Sasha, filled with an obvious reluctance to part.

Sasha waved her little hand at him. "Goodbye, big brother."

The study Caspian had directed her to was not his personal office, but rather a massive archive room.

The moment the door swung open, Mary honestly thought she had stepped into the wrong room.

The bookshelves lining the walls were completely devoid of books. Instead, they were packed tight with cardboard boxes, each overflowing with random receipts, statements, and bills.

On the long table positioned right in the center, a veritable mountain of account ledgers sat waiting.

The butler pointed toward the overwhelming pile on the table, his expression showing a mix of pity and an expectation to see her fail.

"All the ledger records are right there. If you find you need anything, just use the landline to call me."

With that, the door clicked shut behind him.

Mary looked at the room, swallowed by financial paperwork, and took a long, deep breath to steady herself.

Sasha looked up at her mother with a worried, anxious expression. "Mommy, do we really have to go through every single book in here?"

Mary’s eyes swept across the towering stacks of receipts, a sudden spark of professional excitement lighting up her gaze.

"We're practically there. Let's roll up our sleeves and get to work."