
Getting A Mom: Baby Sitting His Daughter
Desperate for a way out of rejection and poverty, Pearl Augustine accepts a nanny job with an outrageous salary-working for billionaire Ace Warren. What she doesn't expect is his daughter.
Mia Warren is spoiled, sharp-tongued, and feared by everyone in the mansion. Behind her cruelty is a lonely child longing for a mother. As Pearl becomes the only one who can reach her, walls begin to fall-especially those around Ace, a grieving man hiding behind wealth and control.
What started as "just a job" quickly turns into something dangerous: attachment.
Sometimes, healing begins where you least expect it.
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Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Genesis
Pearl had sent out ninety-three job applications in the past three months.
Ninety-three.
And every single one had finished the same way.
We regret to inform you...
She slumped deeper into the worn armchair, her thumb rhythmically clicking the remote as colours flashed across the television screen.
None of it mattered.
The shows, the noise, the laughter tracks—they were all just background noise for the quiet panic tightening around her chest.
“Why is everything so soul-crushing?” she sighed, her voice echoing in the small apartment. “Not a single thing worth watching.”
Truthfully, it wasn’t the television that frustrated her. It was the silence between the channels—the empty hours of the day that reminded her she was unemployed, unwanted, and slowly becoming invisible.
She was about to press the power button when a sleek, high-definition news graphic caught her eye.
“This is CBN News. Coming up at 5 p.m., an exclusive sit-down with the man behind the empire: Ace Warren, CEO of AW Group. Join us as we talk shop with the world’s most influential billionaire and reigning celebrity icon. Stay tuned for a look into the life of the man who has it all.”
Pearl rolled her eyes.
“Ugh, rubbish.”
Of course, the world had time to celebrate another billionaire.
She stood up, crossing the room to grab a bowl of strawberries, trying to distract herself with a comic book. But before she could finish the first page, the screen went black.
“What the—? I was actually using that!” she yelled.
From across the room, Ella looked up with a dry scoff.
“Using it for what? To torture yourself?”
Pearl pouted, though the frustration behind it was real. Her eyes stung with the pressure she’d been holding in all day.
“At least it was a distraction,” she muttered. “Do you like seeing me sit here like a ghost, staring into space?”
Ella’s expression softened. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and let out a long breath.
“Pearl, honey, I didn’t mean—”
“Do you think I’m happy?” Pearl interrupted, the dam finally cracking. “I sit here all day watching useless movies because I’ve become a liability. I don’t have a job, Ella. I have nothing.”
The words echoed in the apartment, heavier than she expected.
“Pearl, stop.”
“Don’t ‘Pearl’ me!” she snapped, standing up so abruptly the strawberries nearly tipped over. “The rich just keep getting richer while the rest of us are stuck in the mud. Can’t you see it?”
Her voice trembled.
“My degrees, my certificates… they’re just expensive paper. And those bosses? They don’t even look at my CV. They just look at me like I’m a prize to be won in exchange for a paycheck.”
The memory of certain interviews flashed through her mind—lingering stares, inappropriate smiles, the subtle suggestion that “cooperation” could open doors.
Her stomach twisted.
“It’s disgusting.”
She sank back into the chair, sobbing into her hands. The frustration, the humiliation, the exhaustion of trying and failing—it all crashed over her at once.
Ella was by her side in an instant, pulling her into a firm embrace.
“Everything will be fine,” Ella whispered, rubbing her back. “I’m not complaining, am I? That’s what best friends are for. We carry each other.”
Pearl clung to her for a moment longer than she intended.
“But I don’t want to be a burden,” she sniffed.
Her phone chimed suddenly on the coffee table.
Pearl’s heart jumped.
She lunged for it, hope sparking in her chest before she could stop herself.
Maybe this was it. Maybe someone had finally said yes.
The silence that followed felt endless.
“Anything?” Ella asked softly.
Pearl stared at the screen.
The words blurred together for a moment before she forced herself to read them again.
Closed.
Her shoulders dropped as if something inside her had snapped.
“They said I didn’t meet the requirements.”
“Come here, baby.” Ella opened her arms again.
Pearl collapsed into them.
“Listen to me,” Ella said firmly. “You are better than the ‘chosen ones.’ A rejection isn’t a funeral; it’s just a redirection. You have the talent and the fire. Don’t let some HR bot diminish your worth.”
Pearl sniffed, wiping her cheeks.
“A better opportunity is out there,” Ella continued. “Go and claim it.”
Pearl managed a weak smile.
“Thank you, Ella. Truly.”
“Always.” Ella pecked her cheek. “Now eat your strawberries and put on a comedy. Let’s actually laugh for once.”
Pearl nodded, though a quiet doubt still lingered in her chest.
What if there was no opportunity waiting for her?
What if this—this tiny apartment and endless rejections—was all life had to offer?
She pushed the thought away before it could grow roots.
⸻
On the other side of the city, the atmosphere was chilled by central air and marble floors.
Mia swept out of the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in her hand. Her personal maid followed a few paces behind, head bowed, whispering a frantic apology.
“How many times have I told you not to speak while I’m eating?” Mia’s voice sliced through the air.
In one fluid, violent motion, she tipped her bowl, dumping the milk and cereal over the woman’s head.
“That was a bit much, even for you, Mia,” a deep, cool voice said from the staircase.
Ace Warren descended slowly, looking every bit the billionaire the news had just praised.
“She deserved it,” Mia snapped, crossing her arms over her designer loungewear. “I told her to leave me alone, and she had the nerve to spit in my cereal.”
Ace stopped on the final step, his eyes narrowing.
“She did what?”
“I—I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to—” the maid stammered, shaking as milk dripped onto the polished floor.
“I saw her!” Mia shouted, stepping closer to the woman. “She thought I wasn’t looking. She called me a ‘spoiled brat’ under her breath. Is that what we pay her for?”
Before anyone could react, Mia swung the empty ceramic bowl, cracking it against the maid’s temple.
“Did you do it?” Ace asked quietly.
His voice wasn’t loud, but the weight of it froze the entire room.
The maid looked at the floor. A small nod.
“You’re fired,” Ace said flatly.
He didn’t even look at her as he signalled the security near the door. Two men moved immediately, dragging the woman towards the exit.
Ace turned back to his daughter, his expression softening.
“Are you alright? Did she hurt you?”
“I’m fine, Dad,” Mia mumbled, though she twisted her face into a pout. “But I won’t be completely fine until you handle this properly.”
Ace tilted his head slightly.
“What do you want?”
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9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.

8.9
My father was marrying a gold-digger, the mother of my cheating ex-boyfriend.
To end the charade, I crashed their luxury wedding with a ten-foot funeral wreath.
In front of hundreds of elites, my father slapped me across the face, calling me a vicious bitch while his new wife smiled in victory.
I triggered the estate's fire system to ruin them, but a terrifying stranger in the VIP section bypassed my military-grade hack in seconds.
He was Kavon Velasquez, a dangerous billionaire heir who had been missing for twelve years.
Instead of exposing me, he shielded me from my father's second blow.
When my pathetic ex tried to drag me away, I grabbed Kavon and kissed him to humiliate my ex.
I shoved a $500,000 check into Kavon's pocket as hush money and left.
I thought that was the end of it.
But why did this apex predator move into the penthouse right next to mine at 2 AM?
Why did he violently crush my ex's face the next morning just for grabbing my arm?
"She is my woman. If you ever come within ten feet of her again, I will bury you."
I didn't understand why a man with lethal skills was suddenly hunting me.
Then I found out he had just blackmailed my father with undeniable proof of corporate money laundering.
His demand wasn't money. It was me.
He ordered my father to announce our engagement by tomorrow sunset, and this dangerous game officially began.

9.2
Arla was supposed to marry Clinton Freeman, the perfect fiancé who had promised to love her and protect her five-year-old son.
But instead, the cold steel of a dagger pierced her chest.
As she collapsed onto the freezing basement floor, she watched her adoptive sister Blair laugh.
"Look at her," Blair sneered, kicking her son's small, blue, lifeless body.
Clinton stood there, calmly wiping the bloody blade on a pristine handkerchief.
In her dying moments, the horrifying truth became clear. Her fiancé and her adoptive family had been plotting all along to steal her massive trust fund.
To break her, they had secretly tortured her child. Clinton had watched Blair pierce the little boy's arms with sewing needles, rewarding him with candy to keep him silent.
Arla's lungs burned with the taste of copper and ash.
She couldn't understand why the family she trusted could be so monstrous, or why they had to brutally murder an innocent child just for money.
The darkness swallowed her whole, drowning her in suffocating hatred and absolute despair.
Then, she gasped for air.
The concrete floor was gone, replaced by the silk sheets of a hotel penthouse suite.
Arla had been reborn to the exact night six years ago—the very day Blair first dragged her son into the dark attic.
This time, she picked up a solid silver letter opener, ready to burn them all to the ground.

8.0
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She had transmigrated into the American romance novel she read just last night, becoming the ultimate vicious supporting character. The exhausted man walking through the front door was Cyrus Pace, an amnesiac billionaire currently living under the delusion that he was a broke laborer.
The original owner had trapped him with fabricated memories of being childhood sweethearts. Worse, she relentlessly abused him. Her phone was filled with toxic texts calling him a useless loser, and she had just staged a psychotic hunger strike to force him to buy a designer bag. Cyrus already looked at her with bone-deep, visceral disgust. In the original plot, the moment he regained his memory, his ruthless revenge would send her straight to a maximum-security prison for the rest of her life.
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9.0
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They dumped her into a remedial class to hide her away, cut off her allowance, and threatened to lock down her trust fund to force her into absolute submission.
One night, Brooklyn stood in the shadows of the estate and overheard a conversation that shattered everything.
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They felt zero remorse, only plotting to banish her again the moment she turned eighteen.
Her biological father thought he was putting a leash on a helpless, uneducated girl by cutting off her pocket change.
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He didn't know she was the elusive medical genius that the world's most powerful billionaires were currently tearing the city apart to find.
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"Lock down my trust fund?"
She pulled out her encrypted phone and activated her shadow networks, severing herself entirely from their pathetic surveillance.
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