The Nanny of the Cold Billionaire CEO'S Heartless Son

Arabella 

It was all over the news. Montage had fallen.  

The daughter of Montage. The family’s princess. She had fallen from grace to grass.  

It was dreadful news. Everyone who heard it said so.

But I sat there, completely detached from my surroundings. The noise faded into the background.  

Was this really happening?  

My head was empty. My mind completely blank.

"Ara!"

Mona screamed my name. It brought me back to the present.

"Come, Ara. We need to leave this place!"

Home?  

I was leaving my home?

Smoke filled the air. I was really going to lose everything. Even this house.

I clutched the curtains tighter in my hands.

Father would always say, When a terrifying lion dies and begins to rot, the ants and other creatures that once feared it come to feast.

That was my father. That was our fate now.

My entire world had crumbled. And I hadn’t even had the time to cry.

Everything had been taken from me. So why did I still have to run?

I turned slowly. The last two servants left watched me with quiet desperation.

This house used to be full. Lively. Bustling with people. Now only two remained. Sorrow filled the silence between us.

My father was dead.  

And with him, it felt like my life had ended too.

“We need to run now, Ara. We don’t have time!” Mona cried. She snapped me out of my trance once more.

"Ara, we have to go before they come!" she shouted again. She shoved me hard.

I stared at her tear filled eyes. Blank.

“Ara.” She sniffed.  

"Your father owed a lot. So much debt." 

Even after everything is taken, there’s still more. Owed to several people, Ara.

She trembled. Her voice cracked.

“If they get their hands on you. On us...” she whispered.

Having almost nothing left to pay them back. They would take it all out on me. All their anger.

“I’d wish for death.”

The things they would do to me…

The horrifying world my father had always kept me far from was coming for me now. And they wouldn’t show any mercy.

I turned to Mona.  

“Let’s go.”

We ran through the smoke filled house. The air felt thick and suffocating. Tears blurred my vision as memories flashed around me. This had been my home. My safety cage.

Mona’s grip on my arm stayed firm. She grounded me. She pushed me forward.

How did this happen?

I glanced around. Furniture toppled and shattered to the ground. They said the new owner who took the house as repayment for my father’s debts wanted it destroyed. So they set it on fire.

Everything inside was gone. All our assets seized. As if they wanted to erase every trace of us. Of me.

My father had enemies. Plenty of creditors. But this one wanted complete ruin. He was burning down everything I knew as home.

Finally we burst out of the house into the open night air. I sucked in a deep breath. A car waited outside.

I paused. I turned to look at the compound one last time. The familiar walls. The withered garden. The place I once felt untouchable.

My old driver stood beside the vehicle. He had taken me everywhere as a child. Loyal. Quiet. Always on time. Now he bowed slowly. More solemnly than ever before.

“This may be the last ride I give you… to safety,” he muttered.

I looked at the car. It was small. Unfamiliar. Nothing like what I was used to.

What happened to everything? Gone. In the blink of an eye.

I had gone from being the princess of the Rashford family to a fugitive running under cover of night.

Dad was gone.

I didn’t want to die. I would live. I had to.

I looked around one last time. I took everything in and burned it into my memory. Then I nodded and stepped into the car.

As the engine started I stared out at the compound I had grown up in. My home. It wasn’t mine anymore.

Mona sat beside me. Her gaze stayed fixed on the flames. They engulfed the house. They wrapped around it like a cruel consuming monster. Even the expensive curtains we had handpicked with such care were reduced to ashes.

Was this really happening?  

Was I dreaming? Or trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake from?

Mona reached over and took my hand. My cousin who had become my sister.  

“We’ll get through this. Somehow,” she whispered. She gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

The radio crackled to life.

“In shocking news, the entire Montage-Rashford empire has collapsed.”

The voice was crisp.  

“Following the death of its pioneer, Ricardo Montage, just a few nights ago, disturbing links to the underworld society have emerged along with a series of illegal business operations. Creditors are stepping forward claiming what’s left including personal assets. This is a tragic fall from grace...”

I sat in silence. I was the story now. The scandal.

Oliver our driver switched the channel.

“The question on everyone’s lips now is where is she?”

He flipped it again.

“A tragic thing... from grace to absolute zero.”

With a grunt he turned the radio off.

Everyone had something to say. Everyone had an opinion.

But I wasn’t even at zero. Zero would have been a relief. What I had left was a mountain of debt. I was below rock bottom.

I let out a bitter laugh. This can’t be happening.

It was getting harder to breathe. The pressure in my chest tightened. It felt familiar now but so much worse.

I had felt it that day at the funeral watching their caskets lowered knowing I was alone. Every day since then it lingered. But tonight it felt suffocating.

“Mona…” I whispered.  

She was already asleep. Her head rested against the window.

I leaned forward. My voice came out weak. “Oliver… the windows. Please roll them down a bit. It feels stuffy in here.”

“Oliver?” I called again. I was panting heavily. My chest rose and fell in shallow bursts.

When I looked up I caught his eyes in the rearview mirror. They were already watching me.

“Oliver?” I asked. A tremor sat in my voice.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said. He bowed his head slightly.

And I froze.

I’m sorry.  

Those words again. I had heard them every day for the past week. Apologies layered with condolences. Each one bringing more devastating news. Another loss. Another betrayal. Another nail in the coffin of what used to be my life.

But this apology felt different.

There was guilt in his eyes. A shadow of shame.

“Oliver!” I screamed. I struggled with the door handle. My breath came in ragged gasps. The air felt thinner with every second.

I pounded against the window. Panic clawed at my throat.

Was I going to die too?

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I had to.”

And then the car picked up speed.

The world outside blurred.

I had to… His voice echoed in my ears like a final verdict.

Maybe this was it. Maybe I was meant to join them.

*****

The man stepped out from the hallway. He peeled off his gloves with calm precision. “The Montage girl. It’s confirmed,” he said coldly. “She’s a virgin. Untouched.”

“Very good,” the other man replied. He rubbed his hands together. Greed lit up his eyes. “No surprise there. She was the precious jewel of that family. Doted on. Kept away from everything.”

“I got nothing from the ashes of their empire,” the first man muttered. His eyes narrowed. “But selling her to the Gentleman’s Society… that should bring me something back. Maybe even more.”

He smirked. “No, not maybe. I’ll have her auctioned tonight.”

“You think she’ll fetch a high price?” the second man asked.

“Oh I know she will,” he answered without hesitation.

"Don't you need her to sign off her rights to be a slave?"

The man grunted. “That would be too much stress convincing her. An auction would be more beneficial for me. And those men would be very eager to break an unwilling slave.” He muttered darkly. “The Gentlemen would not mind. They'll prefer it.”

“You have any idea how many men are dying to get their hands on her? She’s the spawn of that man. Some want her for revenge. For pleasure. Payback.” The man spat ruefully.

Someone like her would never cooperate willingly to be sold to pay him back what he was owed.

A quiet voice broke the moment. “Will she be okay?” Oliver asked. He still stood silently at the side. She had done nothing wrong.

His voice trembled. Guilt laced every word. He couldn’t shake the image of her eyes. Confused. Afraid. Betrayed.

The man sneered at him. “She’s not your concern anymore.”

With a flick of his wrist he tossed a thick bundle of cash in Oliver’s direction. The bills hit the ground with a soft thud.

“Get out.”