chapter 1 :- the job

The last thing Stella Parker expected after graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education was to be unemployed and broke in the city of dreams. But Los Angeles was cruel to dreamers. Rent was sky-high, the job market was cutthroat, and her emergency savings had dried up faster than she'd anticipated. She had applied everywhere—from preschools in Culver City to daycare centers in Koreatown—but every interview ended the same: “We’ll be in touch.” They never were.

So, when she saw the listing for a full-time live-in nanny position in Beverly Hills with an outrageously high salary, she didn’t hesitate. It sounded too good to be true, but she clicked “Apply” anyway, expecting nothing. What she didn’t expect was to get a response within an hour, a background check within a day, and a job offer by the end of the week.

The address? Salvatore Estate.

The employer? Dominic Salvatore.

She’d heard the name before. Everyone had. Billionaire investor, tech mogul, real estate tycoon. A man known for hostile takeovers and zero tolerance for nonsense. The gossip sites called him “The Cold King.” Pictures showed a tall, broad-shouldered man in custom suits, always surrounded by powerful people—never a smile, never a scandal. Mysterious. Untouchable.

The moment Stella stepped through the wrought iron gates and laid eyes on the mansion, her knees went weak. It wasn’t just a house—it was an empire. White stone, glass walls, fountains, and manicured gardens that looked like something out of a European palace. She felt painfully out of place in her thrifted blouse and flats.

But when the front door opened, it wasn’t Dominic who greeted her. It was a small voice.

“Hi,” said a girl with a mop of chestnut curls and big brown eyes. “Are you my new Mary Poppins?”

Stella knelt, smiling. “Only if you’re okay with me not flying in on an umbrella.”

The girl giggled. “That’s okay. I don’t like heights anyway.”

“Ava,” came a firm voice.

She turned. And there he was. Dominic Salvatore.

He was even more intimidating in person—tall, with sharp cheekbones and piercing grey eyes that looked like they could cut glass. His tailored suit looked like it cost more than her college tuition. He didn’t offer a smile, just a curt nod.

“Miss Parker. You're early.”

“Better than being late,” she replied, managing to keep her voice steady.

He studied her for a beat longer than necessary, as if analyzing her potential return on investment. Then he motioned for her to follow. “Let’s talk terms.”

The living room was minimalist and modern, decorated in neutral tones and tasteful art. He handed her a folder. Inside was a contract—twenty pages long.

“Everything you need to know is in there. Salary, expectations, non-disclosure terms. You'll be living on the east wing. Ava is homeschooled, but she'll need structure, creativity, and emotional support. She’s... been through a lot recently.”

Stella skimmed the papers, then glanced at him. “Why me?”

“You were recommended by a colleague whose child you tutored last year. And frankly, Ava liked you in five seconds. That’s a new record.”

That small, unexpected compliment made her heart do a strange little somersault. She nodded slowly. “I’ll take the job.”

He extended his hand. She shook it.

Neither of them realized that a handshake was the start of something far more complicated than employment.

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To be continued...

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