The Billionaire's Reluctant Nanny
When Alessia Romano's ex-husband destroys her family's company to drag her back to him, she refuses to beg. But refusing comes at a cost she never expected.
Billionaire Adrian Virelli pays off every debt and saves Romano Industries from ruin. The price is simple. Three years of her life, living under his roof as his daughter's nanny.
Adrian is cold, controlled, and completely off limits. Alessia tells herself she feels nothing.
But when she discovers a hidden room filled with portraits of a woman wearing her face, the truth hits harder than any betrayal she has ever known
She was never the woman he wanted. She was only a replacement.
She walks away. Then his ex-wife returns, and the danger that follows is nothing like Alessia expected. Someone wants her dead, Adrian nearly dies saving her life, and when he finally opens his eyes again, he remembers nothing.
His ex-wife is standing at his bedside, ready to rewrite every memory he has left.
And Alessia is running out of time to make the man she loves remember that he loved her too.
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Chapter 5
Alessia's POV
By the end of the first week, I had learned three things about living in Adrian Virelli's mansion.
First, the house had more cameras than a bank.
Second, the staff spoke in careful whispers whenever Adrian's name came up.
And third, Ava Virelli was a walking disaster wrapped in an eight-year-old's body.
After the incident with the forbidden wing, Adrian had given me a very clear warning.
Stay out of that part of the house.
There had been no explanation, no discussion, just an order delivered in that cold voice that made it clear he wasn't used to being questioned.
Since then, I had done exactly that.
I stayed where I was supposed to stay. I followed Mrs. Davenport's instructions. And most importantly, I learned to watch out for Ava.
Because Ava liked games.
One day she swapped the sugar in my tea for salt and watched quietly while I took a sip. Another time she hid my phone somewhere in the library and observed me from the staircase as I spent nearly an hour searching for it.
She never admitted to anything but I knew.
She just watched like she was waiting to see how long it would take before I broke.
But I didn't break.
I couldn't afford to.
Three years, I reminded myself constantly.
Three years and my family would be safe.
Saturday morning was strangely quiet.
Adrian had left early for work, and most of the staff had the day off except for the security guards stationed outside the gates. Even Mrs. Davenport had disappeared into another wing of the house to handle inventory.
Which meant it was just me and Ava.
That alone should have made me nervous.
But the day started... peacefully.
Suspiciously so.
We were sitting in the garden behind the mansion, where trimmed hedges lined the stone paths and the enormous pool shimmered under the afternoon sun.
Ava sat cross-legged on the grass beside me, slowly pulling apart a daisy.
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "you're the only nanny who didn't cry during her first week here." She mused out loud.
I glanced at her. "Should I be concerned?"
"Probably." She shrugged like the thought didn't bother her in the slightest.
Then she looked up at me.
"You're really not leaving?"
The question caught me off guard.
"No, I'm not."
"Why?"
I couldn't say it was because your father bought my life for a billion dollars.
Instead I said, "Because I said I'd stay."
She studied me for a long moment, her sharp eyes searching my face as if she were trying to decide whether I meant it or not.
Then something unexpected happened. Before I could react, she walked over and wrapped her arms around me.
I froze instantly.
In the entire week I had been here, Ava had never touched me,not even by accident.
The hug was sudden and awkward, her small arms squeezing my waist.
For a moment, my guard slipped.
Maybe this was her way of making peace. Maybe she had finally decided I wasn't going anywhere and was willing to accept it.
Tentatively, I relaxed and returned the hug.
That was when everything went wrong. Ava shifted her weight suddenly, grabbing the front of my shirt.
Before I understood what she was doing, she leaned backward-hard.
Pulling me with her.
A loud splash echoed across the yard.Cold water swallowed us instantly.
The shock knocked the breath from my lungs as I plunged beneath the surface.
When I resurfaced, gasping for air, Ava was already several feet away from me in the pool.
And screaming.
"Help!"
My heart skipped.
"Alessia pushed me!"
The words echoed across the garden.
For a moment I just stared at her, stunned by how quickly it had happened.
She had pulled me into the water... then shoved herself away... and now she was acting like I had attacked her.
Footsteps thundered across the stone tiles.
"Ava!"
Adrian's voice exploded across the yard.
Before I could even process what was happening, he dove into the pool.
Water crashed around us as he reached Ava first, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.She clung to his shoulders, trembling dramatically.
"I'm fine, Daddy," she sniffled.
Adrian didn't seem to hear her.
His dark eyes snapped toward me, blazing with fury.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded.
My chest tightened.
"It's not what it looks like." I tried to defend myself.
"You pushed her into the pool?" His voice was ice cold. "She's eight years old!"
"I didn't-"
"You are responsible for her safety, how could you be so careless?" The venom in his voice sent shivers down my spine.
"I know that but-"
"You're her nanny," he cut in sharply. "Act like one."
Shock rendered me speechless.
He carried Ava out of the pool and wrapped a towel around her shoulders.
She peeked at me from behind him and smirked.
By evening, the cold had settled deep into my bones.
I sat on the edge of my bed wrapped tightly in a blanket while steam curled from the bowl of soup Mrs. Davenport had placed it on the bedside table.
"You should drink it while it's hot," she said gently.
"I will."
She studied me for a moment with a knowing expression.
"I warned you," she said. "Miss Ava is not a typical child."
"That's one way to put it." I said bitterly
Mrs. Davenport sighed softly.
"She's just misunderstood...She's been abandoned by every woman who tried to care for her."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The first nanny left after two weeks. The second lasted three days. The governess before you lasted exactly twenty-six hours."
"That's... comforting." I sighed.
She patted my shoulder sympathetically.
"Just be careful."
Then she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before. I stared down at the untouched soup.
Could I really survive three years here?
Maybe it wasn't worth it.
Maybe I should leave before things got worse.
Before Ava's games escalated.
Before Adrian's distrust hardened into something more permanent and dangerous.
A knock sounded on the door.
Before I could answer, it opened.
Adrian stepped inside.
He looked different tonight, less controlled somehow, the sharp edges of his usual composure slightly worn down.
"I owe you an apology," he said.
I blinked.
"What?"
"I reviewed the security footage."
Understanding slowly dawned on me.
"And?"
"And Ava pushed herself into the pool." He paused trying to gauge my reaction when I remained quiet he continued.
"She pulled you in with her, then pretended you did it."
He combed his hair backwards roughly with his hands.
"I shouldn't have blamed you without knowing the truth."
The apology sounded reluctant but genuine.
"She does things like this sometimes," he added.
"She frames people for attempted drowning?" I asked sarcastically.
"She's testing you."
I laughed bitterly. "Thats one hell of a test."
His gaze sharpened.
"You're thinking of leaving." It wasn't a question.
"Ava isn't a bad child," he said quietly. "She's just hurt."
I crossed my arms.
"Hurt kids don't usually weaponize swimming pools."
"If you leave too... it will confirm exactly what she already believes, that no one ever stays."
The room fell silent again.
I exhaled slowly before I could speak, my phone lit up.
An unknown number had sent me a picture.
My stomach dropped when I opened it. It was a picture of Marissa with a positive pregnancy test.
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7.8
Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library.
But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor.
"It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting."
He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case."
To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend.
That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery.
When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused.
"Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you."
For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes.
He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game.
The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold.
When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract.
She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent.
This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life.
9.7
I secured the lifeline investment for my fiancé's company and went to his office to surprise him.
Instead, I caught Preston sleeping with his top actress—the woman he publicly claimed as his stepsister.
Through the cracked door, I heard him call me his "scarred, ugly bitch shield" to hide their sickening affair.
I didn't cry. I hacked the live broadcast of the Star Awards and played their sex tape to two thousand people.
But that night, drunk and reeling from the agonizing nerve pain in my facial scar, I stumbled into the wrong hotel penthouse.
I was pinned down by a drugged billionaire, Josephus Hodges.
The next morning, he left me a million-dollar check and a Plan B pill.
When he later tracked me down to offer a cold, calculated fake marriage just to absorb Preston's ruined empire, I threw the contract at his chest and told him to go to hell.
But when I got home and looked in the mirror, the chronic, burning torture in my scar was completely gone.
His touch during that terrifying night had somehow cured the agony that had ruined my life.
I had just declared war on the only man on earth who could heal me.
Just then, my ruined ex-fiancé called, begging me to save him with a PR press conference.
"I'll do it, but I control the venue."
I booked it at Josephus's heavily guarded hotel. I was going to slaughter my ex on live television, and force the apex predator to look at me again.
7.9
On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours."
9.7
For three years, I played the role of a devoted, naive wife to billionaire Conrad Whitney. I hid my true identity and foolishly believed in our fairy tale.
Then he handed me a harsh divorce agreement, ordering me to sign and walk away with absolutely nothing. He was leaving me to marry Cindy, the fragile woman he claimed had saved him from a fire.
He expected me to cry and beg. Instead, he watched coldly as Cindy and her family illegally transferred my father's trust fund. When I confronted them at the hospital, Conrad shielded her, calling me a greedy, toxic viper. He mocked me, completely blind to the fact that Cindy was a fraud. He truly believed I was just a pathetic, useless housewife who would be utterly destroyed without his money and status.
I looked at the man I had actually dragged out of that burning debris with my own soot-covered hands. My trauma, my sacrifices, and my love had all been reduced to a joke by his sheer arrogance and a few fake tears from a manipulative liar.
I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed the papers, drugged his wine, and left a crumpled one-dollar bill on his unconscious chest with a sticky note mocking his terrible service.
Then, I picked up my encrypted phone. It was time for the world's top surgeon, Dr. Hades, to return, and for Conrad to finally see the god he had just thrown away.
9.2
Celestia woke up heavily sedated, her wrists bound tightly to the legs of a grand piano in a cold, opulent room.
Before she could even process the panic, a towering billionaire named Sterling Sinclair IV stepped in, looking at her like a possessed piece of art.
The head maid then handed Celestia a thick surrogacy contract with her perfectly forged signature.
"You are here to bear an heir for Mr. Sinclair," the maid stated flatly.
Celestia screamed that they had the wrong person, but her desperate cries bounced uselessly off the soundproof walls.
Stripped of her clothes, phone, and identity, she was trapped on an isolated island surrounded by high-voltage electric fences and armed guards.
When she furiously fought back, Sterling physically overpowered her, punishing her resistance with brutal, terrifying dominance until she lost consciousness on the marble floor.
She didn't understand who had kidnapped her from her normal life.
Why was her biometric data perfectly faked in a classified dossier?
Who had framed her as a willing, ten-million-dollar premium product for a ruthless billionaire?
Driven by pure survival, Celestia began aggressively consuming raw garlic and bathing in harsh white vinegar to destroy her fertility and repel his touch.
And when Sterling finally reviewed her bizarre, self-sabotaging dietary logs, the terrifying truth hit his calculating mind like a physical blow.
The broken, innocent woman he had been brutally tormenting all week was never his hired surrogate.
8.4
Harlene was locked out of her own family's estate in a freezing blizzard, still trembling from a severe panic attack.
Her mother delivered a cold ultimatum through a security screen: attend her golden-child sister Estella's award gala, or lose her medical funds.
To make it worse, her ex-fiancé, Dennis, had chimed in to call her embarrassing and pathetic.
At the gala, Harlene was treated like a diseased outcast.
Dennis fiercely protected his new lover, Jailyn—the very woman who had stolen Harlene's designs.
But the ultimate betrayal came when Estella flaunted a silver-embroidered antique dress.
It was Harlene's grandmother's dress, her only pure memory of love, handed over to the enemy as a trophy.
When Harlene demanded answers, her own father slapped her across the face in front of the press, just to protect their pristine image.
They had stolen her career, her fiancé, and her inheritance, all while branding her the crazy, unstable daughter.
The sheer hypocrisy and cruelty finally severed the last thread of her sanity.
Why should she play the silent victim while they played the perfect family?
Instead of crying, Harlene smiled.
She drew a hidden dagger, slashed the antique dress to ribbons, and dragged Estella and Jailyn to the center stage.
Standing under the blinding spotlight with a bloody blade, she looked out at the terrified crowd.
"The Beaumont family is done hiding," she declared into the microphone. "Tonight, the curtain falls."