CHAPTER 1: The Arrival

The tires of the sleek black car crunched over the gravel driveway, trailing behind streaks of rainwater as the vehicle approached the towering mansion. Gray clouds loomed overhead, casting a somber shadow over the grand estate. The drizzle had been steady since morning, soaking the earth and coating the world in a dull melancholy that mirrored her mood perfectly.

Alina Blake sat stiffly in the backseat, her fingers tightening around the strap of her leather satchel. It was worn, scratched, and completely out of place in such a luxurious setting—but that was the point. She wasn’t supposed to look like she belonged. She was supposed to look small, harmless, ordinary. A servant...

That was her cover.

A low buzz of nerves fluttered in her stomach, not from fear—no, she was trained for this—but from anticipation. The mission ahead was delicate, dangerous even, and more personal than she’d care to admit. But she had accepted it. She had signed the contract. And now she was here, standing at the threshold of a life she didn’t belong in, ready to play her part.

The car came to a halt before the mansion's wide stone steps. She pushed open the door, stepping out into the rain without waiting for assistance. Cold droplets soaked her long coat instantly, but she didn’t flinch. Her eyes lifted slowly, scanning the grand structre.

It was massive. Older than she'd expected, built in a style that whispered of old money and family legacies. Ivy crawled up one wing of the building, and tall, arched windows loomed like watchful eyes. It wasn’t just a house—it was a fortress. Imposing, cold, and heartless.

Just like the man who lives there.

Ethan Vance. Billionaire entrepreneur. Ruthless CEO of Vance International. A man whose name inspired awe in boardrooms and fear in anyone who dared cross him. But behind all the power and polish was a wounded man—a husband betrayed, a father guarding his heart behind steel walls.

Alina had read the file more times than she could count. She knew the facts: Ethan’s wife had cheated on him, left him for another man, and abandoned their daughter. After a bitter custody battle, he’d won full guardianship of his only child—Elora Vance, six years old. Since then, Ethan had lived a private, guarded life, keeping Elora close and the rest of the world at arm’s length.

And now Alina was stepping into that world.

She rang the doorbell.

Seconds passed. Then the door creaked open—not by a butler or a maid, as she’d expected—but by a child.

Elora stood there in soft pajamas, her wild chestnut curls slightly messy, her brown eyes wide and curious. She clutched a small stuffed unicorn to her chest.

Alina blinked in surprise. “Are you... Elora?”

The girl nodded, stepping aside to let her in. “You’re the new nanny, right? Daddy said someone was coming today.”

The girl looked her up and down, scrunching her nose. “You look different from the others.”

Alina tilted her head. “Is that good or bad?”

“I think it’s good,” Elora said seriously. “The last one smelled like old milk and told me to shut up.”

“Well, I promise not to smell like milk or say anything rude to you.” She extended her pinky. “Pinky swear?”

Elora hesitated... then hooked her tiny finger around Alina’s. “Okay. You can stay.”

Just then, footsteps echoed through the hallway—heavy, precise, and full of authority. Alina didn’t need to look to know who it was.

She turned just as Ethan Vance stepped into view.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a crisp black suit despite being at home—he looked exactly like the photos. But seeing him in person was something else entirely. His presence was undeniable, like walking into a room with a live wire. His face was chiseled, all sharp lines and hard angles, with a jaw clenched just tight enough to suggest he wasn’t pleased.

His storm-gray eyes landed on her.

“You must be the new help,” he said flatly.

Alina gave a respectful nod. “Yes, Mr. Vance. I’m Alina Blake. From the Horizon Agency.”

“I don’t care what agency you’re from,” he said, brushing past them. “As long as you do your job and stay out of my way.”

Elora frowned and tugged at his sleeve. “Daddy, she’s nice.”

He glanced at his daughter, and for the briefest moment, something softened in his expression—but it was gone just as quickly. “We’ll see.”

Alina kept her expression neutral. She had expected cold. She had expected distant. But what she hadn’t expected was the instant clash between them—the tension in the air that wasn’t just professional.

He turned back to her. “Her bedtime is nine. She doesn’t eat sugar after seven. No cartoons during the week. She has a tutor every morning. Follow the schedule, and we won’t have a problem.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Don’t call me ‘sir.’”

She blinked. “Then... Mr. Vance?”

He narrowed his eyes. “That works.”

Elora grinned and tugged Alina’s hand. “Come on. I’ll show you my room. And your room too!”.She was a little girl who was bored in that big as* mansion.

Alina followed, but she felt his eyes on her back as she walked away.

—

Elora’s room was surprisingly cozy—decorated in soft pastels, covered in fairy lights and stuffed animals. It was a little world of its own, untouched by the coldness of the mansion.

“You did all this?” Alina asked as she looked around

“Elora nodded proudly. “Daddy let me pick everything. He said I could have whatever I wanted.”

Alina knelt beside her. “He must love you a lot.”

The girl’s expression dimmed slightly. “He does. But he’s sad sometimes. And he thinks I don’t see it, but I do.”

Alina’s heart tightened. This mission wasn’t supposed to be emotional. She was here for intel, for access. But this little girl already felt too real

She brushed Elora’s hair gently. “You’re a very smart girl.”

“I know,” Elora said confidently, then beamed. “Wanna see your room now?”

“Lead the way.”

—

The servant’s quarters were smaller, tucked away near the back of the mansion. It had a private bathroom, a small desk, and a view of the garden. Sparse, but not terrible.

Alina dropped her bag on the bed, but before she could begin unpacking, there was a knock on the door.

She opened it to find a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair and a clipboard.

“I’m Greta, the housekeeper. I run things here.” She gave Alina a once-over. “We’ve had seven nannies in the past year. Let’s hope you last longer.”

Alina smiled politely. “I intend to.”

“Good. Dinner is at seven sharp. You’ll eat with the staff. The master takes his meals alone unless he’s entertaining.”

“Understood.”

Greta handed her the weekly schedule. “Follow this. Don’t ask questions. And stay out of Mr. Vance’s office.”

“Of course.”

As Greta left, Alina closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly. This place was more than just a mansion—it was a cage. Everyone walked on eggshells. The air was thick with unspoken rules.

And yet...

Something inside her stirred.

She wasn’t just here for a mission. Something about this house, about this man, about his daughter—it all felt connected to something bigger. Something deeper.

She crossed to the window and stared out at the garden, the rain now only a mist. She had a role to play. A mask to wear.

But even now, she could feel the crackling tension—between her and him. The way his eyes had lingered. The way his voice had tried to keep her distant but failed.

They already disliked each other.

They already noticed each other.

And that… was dangerous.

But maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something neither of them was ready for.

---

End of Chapter 1

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