THE BILLIONAIRE'S PRIVATE NURSE

Where do you think people go after they die?Do you think they still remember the ones who cared most for them before their passing? Or is the whole memory gone, one-sided, clinging only to the person left behind?Hi. I’m Gabriella Carlos, and I’ll admit that I’ve loved and cherished more dead people than I ever might the living.I’m a nurse.Not just the kind who checks vitals and changes IV bags—though that’s part of it, too. I’m the one who stays behind after families have gone home, who holds the hands of those too weak to speak, who listens to the stories no one else has time to hear.I work in palliative care. It’s not glamorous. It’s not even always hopeful. But it’s honest.People think death is an ending. But sometimes, I think it’s more like a mirror. It reflects everything back at us, our regrets, our triumphs, and our unanswered questions. In those final moments, people often speak with a clarity that life never gave them the chance to.And that’s where I come in.I’m no

The morning came quieter than I expected.No dramatic sun slicing through the blinds. No internal monologue narrating some cinematic new beginning. Just light. Soft and ordinary, brushing the wall across from where I lay curled up on the couch in the guest room.I hadn’t meant to sleep there, but after everything—after the tears, the reunion, the long silence with Maya and the tight-lipped smile from Mom—I couldn’t bring myself to climb into a bed that felt too familiar and too far away at once.And for the first time in months, I hadn’t taken the pills.I let the night hit me full force. No chemical fog to dim it down. No numbness to hide behind.Just me, wide awake in the dark, listening to the house breathe—Nadia’s soft sleep mumble down the hall, the groan of old wood settling, the tick of the wall clock I used to hate as a kid.I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, eyes dry but stinging. My body didn’t know what to do with all the silence. My brain kept replaying ever

“Do you always flirt with your nurses?” I asked, just to deflect.He smiled faintly. “Only the ones who look like they’ve been running from something.”I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.Instead, I scribbled something—anything—onto the chart just to keep my hands moving. Just to stop them from trembling. Then I nodded once, too fast, and turned toward the door.“Call the desk if you need anything.”My hand had just touched the handle when he said it—calmly, but like it mattered.“What’s your name?”I paused.It was a simple question, but it felt like a doorway. And I wasn’t sure what was waiting on the other side.I could have walked out and kept the space between us clinical and clean, like I was supposed to.But his voice, steady despite the pain, pulled something out of me. Or maybe it was his eyes. Clear now. Present. Like he was actually seeing me, not just the nurse assigned to his chart. Turned back, slower this time.“Gabriella.”His mouth moved like he was tasting it. “Gabriella,” h

The flowers came on my first real day off in over a week.I wasn’t even dressed. Still in my oversized T-shirt and mismatched socks, toothbrush shoved halfway into my cheek like a chew toy, mouth full of foam when I heard the screech.“Oh my God, Gabby!” Nadia’s voice ricocheted down the hallway like a warning shot. “Someone left you flowers!”I squinted at the light pouring through the living room window and shuffled toward the noise, still brushing. “What?”“Toothpaste,” Maya called lazily from the kitchen. “You’re dripping it all over the floor.”I wiped my chin with the back of my hand—very glamorous—and peered over Nadia’s shoulder at the bouquet. Dozens of deep red tulips and eucalyptus sprigs. Classy. Clean. Like something from a showroom, not a grocery store shelf. No cartoon balloon or glittery ‘Get Well Soon’ nonsense. Just flowers. Thoughtful ones.Nadia turned and held up the little card like it might explode. “There’s a note,” she said in a dramatic whisper, which meant s

The sky had started folding into dusk, the kind that draped the estate in gold and gray, the shadows stretching like secrets across the path.I needed air.I left the folder back in the room they gave me without signing yet, after seeing the way Isaac watched me like I’d already given more than my name, I needed to breathe something that didn’t feel like a deal.So I wandered. Past the stone walkways, the place was wealth made sterile—every leaf and corner polished to a shine. It made my skin itch a little.I pulled out my phone and tapped Maya’s number, bringing it to my ear.“Hello?”“Hey. Can you let Mom know I won’t be home tonight?”A beat. “Why? Did you get called in?”“No,” I said, voice low. “Just—personal. I’ll explain later.”“You okay?”I didn’t answer that part. “Tell her not to wait up.”Maya sighed. “Alright. Text me if you need anything.”“I will.”I ended the call and slipped the phone into my hoodie pocket just as I turned a corner—and saw her.A little girl. Alone.S