Chapter 5

Valerius closed the bedroom door and looked around.

The room was huge. A king-sized bed stood near the center beneath a crystal chandelier. Warm lights reflected against the wooden floor, and the massive windows overlooked Manhattan’s skyline.

What caught her attention the most was the large glass wardrobe near the corner of the room.

The door was slightly open, revealing rows of expensive clothes inside. Silk nightgowns, elegant dresses, thick winter coats. Everything looked new, and somehow all of it seemed like it would fit her perfectly.

Instead of feeling impressed, Valerius felt uncomfortable.

This place was too luxurious for someone like her. She had spent the last five years living in a tiny apartment with leaking ceilings and broken electricity. Compared to that life, this mansion barely felt real.

Valerius went straight into the bathroom.

She stood under the warm shower for a long time, letting the heat ease some of the tension in her body after everything that had happened that day.

When she finally stepped out, exhaustion was already catching up to her.

A white bathrobe hung near the sink. She put it on before walking back into the bedroom, then dropped onto the bed without even bothering to dry her hair properly.

The moment her head touched the pillow, Valerius closed her eyes.

​But sometime around two in the morning, the silence inside the mansion suddenly shattered. A child’s terrified crying echoed through the hallway. Valerius’s eyes snapped open instantly. She groaned softly and buried her face into the pillow. “That kid seriously never stops screaming,” she muttered tiredly.

​The crying continued. Louder this time. Fearful and desperate. 

Valerius let out an irritated sigh before forcing herself upright. 

She hated children. At least, that was what she always told herself. But no matter how exhausted she was, she still couldn’t ignore the sound of a child crying lone in the middle of the night.

​Still wearing the white bathrobe, Valerius pushed aside the blanket and stepped out into the hallway. And at the exact same moment, the bedroom door across from hers opened too. 

Gideon Vance stepped outside. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. His black dress shirt was wrinkled, the top buttons undone carelessly, and his dark hair looked messy beneath the dim hallway lights.

For a second, neither of them moved. 

Alethea’s crying echoed through the hallway again. But Gideon found himself staring at Valerius instead.

Without the maid uniform, she looked painfully familiar. Her damp hair, the faint scent of soap, the oversized white bathrobe. For a brief moment, Gideon was reminded of nights from years ago, when Evanthe used to fall asleep beside him after showering.

Valerius started walking toward Alethea’s room. But before she could take another step, Gideon suddenly grabbed her arm. Valerius stopped and looked at him in confusion.

“What is it?” she asked coldly.

​Gideon stepped closer, his eyes dark. “Don’t touch my daughter.”

Valerius stared at him in confusion. “Why?”

“I know what kind of woman you are,” Gideon said coldly. “So don’t pretend you suddenly care about her now.”

​The irritation Valerius had been suppressing all night finally snapped. She yanked her arm hard, but Gideon’s grip barely moved. “Are you insane?” she shot back. “Your daughter is crying her lungs out!”

​Gideon’s jaw tightened.

​“And if you care so much about her,” Valerius continued angrily, “then why are you standing here arguing with me instead of comforting her yourself?!”

​Silence. Gideon froze slightly. The accusation hit harder than he expected.

​Valerius glared at him with open frustration. “I don’t know who the hell this Evanthe woman is,” she said. “But stop throwing your family problems at me.”

​For the first time in years, someone had spoken to Gideon without fear. Without hesitation. Without trying to please him. 

Before Gideon could respond, Valerius finally ripped her arm free and marched straight toward Alethea’s bedroom. The door slammed shut behind her.

Inside the room, Alethea sat curled beneath the blanket, her eyes red from crying.

The moment she saw Valerius, her expression tightened again.

“Get out!” she shouted. “I don’t want you here!”

​Valerius shut the door behind her before walking farther inside. Honestly, she had no idea what she was doing. She wasn’t gentle. She wasn’t patient. And she definitely wasn’t motherly. Still, she dragged a chair toward the bed and sat down heavily. 

“Alright,” Valerius said flatly. “You’ve been screaming for ten minutes. Are you done yet?”

​Alethea stared at her in shock. Clearly, none of her previous nannies had ever spoken to her like that. “I had a nightmare!” Alethea shouted angrily.

​Valerius crossed her arms. “Then go back to sleep.”

​Alethea’s mouth fell open. “You’re so mean!”

​“Maybe,” Valerius replied calmly. “But crying won’t make the nightmare disappear.”

​The little girl looked furious for a second. Then suddenly—more tears spilled down her cheeks. “I want Mommy…”

​The words made something uncomfortable twist inside Valerius’s chest again. All day long, people had been calling her by another woman’s name. Evanthe. A stranger she apparently resembled. Valerius looked away briefly before speaking again. “Your mother isn’t here.”

​Alethea lowered her head.

​“And screaming until morning won’t bring her back either,” Valerius added honestly.

The room slowly grew quiet. Alethea stared at Valerius with swollen red eyes.

Most adults either yelled at her or tried too hard to comfort her whenever she cried. But this woman was different. She said exactly what she thought, even when it sounded harsh.

“You really are mean,” Alethea whispered weakly.

​Valerius shrugged. “The world is mean.”

​The child said nothing after that. 

A few minutes later, Alethea slowly lay back down beneath the blanket. 

Valerius remained seated beside the bed quietly. And eventually—the child fell asleep.

​Silence finally filled the bedroom. Valerius let out a long exhausted breath before standing from the chair carefully. As she turned toward the door, a small sleepy voice suddenly stopped her. “…Mommy?”

​Valerius froze. She slowly looked back. Alethea’s eyes were still closed. The child was barely awake. 

“…I want Mommy…”

​Valerius’s chest tightened strangely. Before she could respond, Alethea had already fallen fully asleep again. The room became silent once more.

​A few moments later, Valerius quietly stepped back into the hallway. And found Gideon still standing there. A glass of whiskey rested in his hand. His dark eyes immediately lifted toward her. “Alethea stopped crying,” Gideon said quietly.

​Valerius frowned. “Well, obviously.”

​Gideon studied her silently for several seconds. Then he took a slow step closer. “That’s strange,” he murmured coldly. “She usually hates every nanny who enters her room.”

​Valerius folded her arms. “I’m not a nanny. I’m just someone desperate enough to need your money.”

​Gideon’s expression darkened slightly. Again, she sounded nothing like the Evanthe he remembered. And yet, everything about her face still felt painfully familiar.

​Valerius sighed tiredly. “I already told you,” she said firmly. “I’m not your wife.”

​Gideon stared directly into her eyes. Then his voice dropped lower. “You can lie to everyone else if you want.”

​Valerius felt tension creep slowly into the air between them. But Gideon wasn’t finished. His gaze remained locked onto her face as he spoke quietly. “But my daughter recognized you immediately.”

​Valerius’s heartbeat suddenly faltered. Then Gideon stepped even closer. “And children,” he whispered coldly, “don’t mistake strangers for their mothers.”