Chapter 4

Sophia’s POV

The pair of men dressed in crisp black suits, who appeared more like undercover operatives than simple drivers, moved forward and wordlessly relieved me of my bags. I didn’t put up any resistance. My sense of dignity had already endured far too many blows over the past few days.

I pivoted back toward the apartment, the very one that contained echoes of endless late-night study sessions and budget-friendly delivery meals. I inserted the key into the lock for what I knew would be the final time, hesitated for a moment, and then gradually turned it to secure the door.

After that, I crouched down and slipped the keys into the weathered old mailbox.

As I rose to my full height, I allowed my gaze to rest on the building one last time. The fissures running along the walls. The neglected potted plant that had stubbornly refused to thrive. The little nook beside the window where I’d often perched, daydreaming about a future wedding with Alex.

“This isn’t the conclusion, Sophia,” I murmured quietly to myself.

“It’s merely the start of something fresh.”

A gentle morning wind played with my hair, almost as if it were encouraging me forward.

I spun around and made my way to the black Prado SUV that was waiting patiently by the roadside. The rear door had already been swung open in anticipation of my arrival. I eased myself into the plush seat, sinking into the chilled leather upholstery, and allowed the door to close softly behind me.

As the vehicle began to move away, I made a conscious choice not to glance backward.

I gradually opened my eyes, rubbing away the remnants of drowsiness as bright sunlight poured in through the car’s window. My neck throbbed from the awkward position I’d maintained while napping during the entire journey.

I noticed enormous black gates parting smoothly as the driver activated a compact remote device inside the vehicle. An intricate wolf motif was etched right into the middle of the gates, lending the entryway an air of enigmatic allure.

As the Prado glided through, it felt as though I’d entered an entirely different realm. The driveway extended out before me like a scene straight from a film. Exquisite art installations adorned the impeccably manicured lawn, making the whole setting resemble a page torn from a storybook.

And then, the mansion came into view.

It was enormous and strikingly sophisticated.

The car came to a halt directly in front of the primary entrance, and the driver promptly exited to hold the door open for me. I stepped out and smoothed down my polo shirt.

An elderly woman was positioned on the steps, as if she had been anticipating an arrival, with her silver-gray hair neatly gathered into a severe bun. She was clad in a deep navy-blue dress accented by a pristine white apron, and she radiated a welcoming vibe. It was incredibly soothing and inviting.

“Good morning,” she greeted in a composed tone.

“You must be Sophia, the new nanny for Amelia. My name is Clara. Welcome to the Red Creek Pack.”

“Hi,” I responded, managing a courteous smile.

“This place is truly stunning.”

Such a lovely location, matched by an equally charming name.

She offered a subtle nod. “Come along with me, dear. Let’s help you get comfortable in your room.”

We proceeded through the imposing wooden doors into a grand foyer that could have doubled as a venue for elegant dances. The gleaming marble flooring mirrored the soft morning glow, and an ornate golden chandelier glittered overhead. Sculptures featuring wolf motifs decorated the walls.

Clara guided me up a sweeping staircase and along a corridor, until we arrived at the door situated at the far end.

“This will be your room,” she announced, pushing the door open.

I crossed the threshold and immediately froze in place.

My suitcases had already been placed neatly at the foot of the room.

I blinked in surprise. “Wow,” I whispered faintly.

I ventured deeper inside and took a good look around; it exuded an aura of coziness. The walls were painted in a soft cream shade, and there was a spacious queen-sized bed draped in blue bedding. A writing desk accompanied by a chair was positioned near the window, and the sunlight filtering in provided a gentle, inviting illumination. The air carried the fresh scent of strawberries mingled with coconuts.

“You should take some time to freshen up and make yourself at home. Your uniform is laid out on the bed,” Clara instructed from the entrance.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” I replied gently.

She gave a single nod and pulled the door shut as she departed.

For a brief moment, I simply remained standing there, absorbing the surroundings.

Could this actually be happening?

Just under forty-eight hours earlier, I had been without employment, with rent looming over me, and utterly uncertain about the direction of my existence. Now, it seemed as if my entire life had pivoted a full one hundred and eighty degrees onto a completely new path.

I exhaled deeply, approached the bed, and lightly brushed my fingers over the plush duvet. It was incredibly silky and soothing against my skin. I was already looking forward to resting on it. Placed on the bed was a blue tunic paired with a white button-up shirt.

Following a brief shower and a short period to organize my possessions, there came a rap on my door. Standing there was a woman attired in a blue tunic, her hair braided into two sections.

She wore a strained smile and maintained a remarkably serene composure. “Alpha Ethan is expecting you in his office. Please follow me,” she indicated with a motion.

“Are you alright?” I inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she answered simply.

I closed the door after me as I trailed behind her along the corridor; we encountered various staff members engaged in cleaning tasks around the house. It struck me as odd that she didn’t exchange words with anyone, not even a casual gesture. In truth, everyone seemed focused intently on their duties. We proceeded toward a more isolated section.

She abruptly halted. “There’s a brown door located at the end of this hallway. Knock exactly twice—do not knock any more than that—and wait for a reply before you go inside.” With that, she pivoted and walked away.

What was the deal with these rigid guidelines?

My heart raced wildly as I approached the door, then I rapped on it twice and held my breath in anticipation.

Thirty seconds passed.

One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes.

I wiped my clammy hands against my blue tunic while drawing in steady breaths. Still no answer. I was on the verge of knocking once more when I finally heard the words “come in.” I pressed against the substantial oak doors and entered.

The office resembled more of a personal library, with high-reaching bookshelves dominating the space. A leather chair was positioned behind a grand mahogany desk. The chair was oriented toward a vast window that allowed warm light to dance across the varnished wooden flooring, imbuing the room with a tranquil atmosphere.

“You’re late,” the individual seated there declared, swiveling around to confront me.

It was Ethan Blackwell.

“I’m sorry. But perhaps if you’d answered sooner, I wouldn’t have arrived five minutes behind schedule,” I replied with a forced smile.

“How dare you speak to me in that manner?” he thundered.

In an instant, his hand was clamped around my neck, hoisting me into the air with my feet swinging helplessly below.

I gasped for air as he slammed my back against the wall. His dark eyes were gleaming intensely, resembling tiny flickers of fire swirling within them. I desperately clawed at his hand with my fingers in an

attempt to pry it loose, but he only squeezed tighter.