The Nanny Affair

I stared at my laptop screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard like they couldn’t quite make up their minds. A nanny position. One child. Milan. The salary was astronomical, far more than I’d ever imagined but so was the cost of leaving everything behind, stepping into a world I knew nothing about.

I had spent months scraping by, juggling two jobs, paying bills late, barely keeping the lights on. I couldn’t afford mistakes anymore. Every decision had to count, every opportunity had to be seized. And now, this one was staring me in the face.

I swallowed and clicked send on my application. I am a responsible, experienced caregiver who treats children like family.

The next morning, my phone buzzed. The email subject made my heart skip a beat: Interview Invitation…Rinaldi Residence.

I barely slept that night. My mind raced with questions. Would I be good enough? Could I handle living in someone else’s mansion, taking care of a child I’d never met, and being under the watchful eyes of a billionaire? But at the same time… this could change everything.

When I arrived at the Rinaldi estate, the cab pulled up to gates so tall they looked like they belonged in a palace. The fountain in front of the mansion glimmered in the morning sun, and the gardens were manicured with such precision that it hurt my eyes.

I stepped out, clutching my bag, my stomach twisting with nerves. This was it. I was really doing this.

The door opened before I could ring twice.

He was standing there. Taller than I expected, with dark hair that looked like it had been sculpted by an artist, and green eyes that felt like they could read my soul. Matteo Rinaldi. The name alone carried weight, and now he was right here, studying me.

“You must be Emily Hart,” he said, calm and controlled.

“Yes, sir. I… I’m Emily,” I stammered.

“Matteo,” he corrected, as if testing my composure. “Call me Matteo.”

I nodded, my throat dry. “Yes… Matteo.”

He stepped aside, allowing me to enter. The inside of the mansion stole my breath. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, a grand staircase curling upward. This wasn’t a home. This was a fortress of wealth, power, and control.

“Sit,” he said, pointing to a velvet armchair. I did, clutching my bag like a lifeline.

“You understand why you’re here?” he asked. His green eyes bored into me.

“Yes,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. “For the nanny position… to care for your daughter, Sofia.”

He nodded, hands clasped behind his back. “Correct. I’m offering you a live-in position. You will manage my daughter’s schedule: her meals, her lessons, her activities, her hygiene, her appointments. You will live here. Do you have questions?”

I hesitated. I had expected to discuss responsibilities eventually, but hearing the full extent of them all at once made my chest tighten. “Um… the salary?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

His lips curved slightly, not quite a smile. “Three hundred thousand dollars per month. In exchange, you will dedicate yourself entirely to Sofia and adhere strictly to her schedule. The offer is nonnegotiable.”

I blinked. Three hundred thousand dollars a month. My brain tried to process the number. It was enough to clear all my debts and leave me with more money than I’d ever touched in my life. I fought the urge to gape. “That… that’s incredible.”

“Yes,” he said evenly. “And let me be clear: this is not simple babysitting. You will be responsible for managing every detail of Sofia’s life while she is in your care. You will ensure she is happy, disciplined, and safe. Flexibility is required. If I travel and I often do, you may be expected to accompany us. Understand?”

“Yes, Matteo. I understand,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Good, come with me for a quick tour of the house,” he said, rising to his feet. I quickly rose and followed him up the stairs to the first room on the left.

“This is her office. It’s where her tutors come to teach her on her learning days,” he said, quickly moving to the next room. “This is her playroom, where she spends the majority of her time playing doll house and whatnot.” His face broke into a smile. “And this is her bedroom. It’s going to be conjoined with yours so you can have easy access into her room when the need arises. Her day begins at eight as she prepares for school and ends at eight. Her bedtime should never, and I mean never, be extended. Understand?”

“Yes, sir… I mean Matteo,” I said, smiling.

“Good. I’ll send my driver with you so you can pack your necessities and return on time for when she’s back from school.”

“Oh… right. I don’t have many things to pack anyway,” I responded truthfully.

“Good. Come with me,” he said, walking out of Sophia’s room and back downstairs.

“Romeo, porta la signorina a casa sua, prepara le valigie e riportala indietro,” he said, speaking in Italian. Take the young miss to her place to pack her belongings and bring her back.

I stood confused, watching as my boss conversed in Italian. It sounded so sexy I had to squeeze my thighs together, feeling a wetness pool in my panties. Get your shit together, Emily.

The ride to my place and back was comfortable. I tried making small talk with Romeo, but he didn’t seem interested, so I let it go. Finally, we returned to the Rinaldi mansion. Romeo helped carry my suitcase upstairs to my room.

My room looked like nothing I’d ever lived in before, with a queen-size bed and an open-styled window with a cushion beside it. I walked to the balcony and opened the door, gasping at the view. The house was stunning. I changed into more comfortable clothes and put my suitcase in the walk-in closet, deciding to sort it out later.

Hearing a child’s voice downstairs, I decided to go see the little girl who was supposed to help clear my debts. What I didn’t expect was to find Sofia being carried effortlessly by a woman. She was tall, impossibly gorgeous, and her presence made the room feel smaller. I couldn’t even describe her beauty.

And then I saw it. Her face, her expressions there was an uncanny resemblance to me. But the application it had said Matteo was a single dad.

Before I could think, Matteo appeared in the city room, his eyes blazing as he looked at the woman. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The woman held Sofia closer, tilting her head with unnerving confidence. “I just returned from the state,” she said smoothly. “I want custody of my daughter.”