Nina's POV

★NINA★

I woke up with a headache that felt like someone had taken a hammer to the inside of my skull.

The room was still dark, the kind of dark that comes right before dawn when the house hasn’t decided whether it’s night or morning yet. My mouth tasted like sour wine and regret. I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow.

Last night came back in pieces.

The candles. The food that tasted like money. Malachi’s hand covering mine when I almost cried. The way his eyes softened when I laughed too loud at my own stupid joke. The quick kiss I’d pressed to his cheek—like I was someone who did things like that.

I’d kissed my boss on the cheek.

And then run upstairs like a teenager who’d just committed a crime.

Heat flooded my face even though no one was watching. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to disappear.

It didn’t work.

The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 6:14 a.m. Too early to be awake, too late to pretend last night hadn’t happened. I forced myself to sit up, rubbing my temples. The silk camisole I’d slept in felt too nice against my skin—another reminder of how far I’d climbed in such a short time. From a cracked-phone, zero-balance life to silk pajamas and candlelit dinners.

I should’ve been grateful.

Instead I felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I dragged myself through the morning routine on autopilot. Shower. Brush teeth. Pull on one of the new dresses—a simple navy one with thin straps that made me feel exposed even though it covered everything. Downstairs to start breakfast. Lila would be up soon, hungry and full of questions about yesterday’s shopping trip.

Malachi… I didn’t know what to expect from him today. Would he act like nothing happened? Would he mention the wine? The laugh? The way he’d looked at me when I said goodnight?

I was still cracking eggs when my phone buzzed on the counter.

Unknown number.

I stared at it, wondering who it may be.

No one had this number except Malachi, Julian, and the few people from my old life who still remembered I existed. And none of them called restricted.

I answered anyway. “Hello?”

A familiar, oily voice slithered through the speaker. “Nina, Nina, Nina. Thought you could just disappear on me?”

Colorado.

My stomach dropped so fast I had to grip the counter.

“How did you get this number?”

He laughed, a wet and ugly sound. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is I know where you’re at now. Fancy neighborhood. Big house. Rich man. You think you’re too good to pay what you owe?”

“I don’t owe you anything anymore,” I said, voice low so Lila wouldn’t hear if she came down early. “I left. I’m done.”

“You left with six months of rent unpaid, sweetheart. That’s textbook definition of theft. I could call the cops, tell them you skipped out on a debt. Maybe even say you took some of my stuff when you ran.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Doesn’t have to be true to make your life hell. Imagine the headlines. ‘Billionaire’s Nanny Wanted for Theft.’ You think Mr. Fancy Pants keeps employees with criminal records?”

My hand shook so hard the phone almost slipped.

“What do you want?”

“Double what you owe. Twelve months’ worth. Cash. You bring it to me tonight—same building, same room. Or I make one phone call tomorrow morning. Your choice.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re broke. See you at ten, Nina. Don’t be late.”

The line went dead.

I stood there frozen, eggs forgotten, heart slamming against my ribs.

He knew.

Not everything—not the full address, maybe—but enough. Enough to ruin this. Enough to make Malachi look at me the way everyone else always had: like trash.

If Colorado called the police, if even a whisper of scandal reached Malachi’s ears, I was gone. He’d fire me faster than I could pack. He had Lila to protect. A reputation to protect. I was disposable.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I finished breakfast in a daze. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Fruit cut into stars because Lila liked them that way. When she came bounding down the stairs in her pajamas, I forced a smile and acted normal. Malachi appeared shortly after—suit already on, phone in hand, looking like he hadn’t slept much either.

He glanced at me once. Just once. Long enough for our eyes to meet.

Then he looked away.

No good morning. No mention of last night.

I told myself it was better that way, although it felt like my heart cracked beneath my ribs. 

The day crawled.

I kept Lila busy—puzzles, colouring, reading the same princess book three times. Every time my phone stayed silent, relief washed over me. Every time it buzzed with a notification that wasn’t Colorado, I breathed easier.

But the clock kept moving.

By dinner, my nerves were raw.

Malachi ate with us. Although he was quiet and distracted, checking emails between bites. After Lila’s bath and story, he disappeared into his office.

I waited until the house went still.

Nine forty-five.

I slipped into my old sneakers—the ones from before the shopping spree—and grabbed my tote bag. No plan beyond getting to the gate, calling a cab, and praying Colorado would take half and leave me alone.

I crept down the stairs, avoiding the creaky third step. The foyer was dark except for the soft glow of the security lights outside.

I reached the front door, hand on the handle, heart in my throat. I pulled it down slowly.

The cool night air hit my face, I took one step outside, but the deep booming voice made me freeze. 

“Where do you think you’re going at 10 PM?”