تسجيل الدخولAunt Clara closed the door to Amy’s suite with a quiet click that felt louder than it should have. She leaned against it for a moment, her arms crossed, and studying her niece with a mixture of love and deep concern.“Sit down, Amy.”Amy obeyed, sinking onto the edge of her bed while still cradling Theo against her chest. The baby had calmed down but was now playing with the strap of her top, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling around him.Clara pulled the desk chair closer and sat facing her. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, finally, she exhaled heavily.“I’ve known Damien Ross for eight years,” she began, her voice steady but serious.“I’ve watched him build this empire from the ground up. I’ve seen him charm senators, destroy competitors, and go through more beautiful women than I can count. And in all that time, I have never seen him look at a woman the way he looked at you in that living room just now.”Amy’s stomach twisted.“Aunt Clara-”“No. Listen to me.”C
Serena stormed into the living room like a hurricane in designer heels, her eyes blazing as she locked onto Damien.“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she hissed, waving her phone in the air.“These headlines are everywhere. ‘Damien Ross’s New Nanny Plays House with Billionaire and Baby.’ Are you trying to humiliate me?”Aunt Clara stepped out of Amy’s suite, positioning herself like a shield between Amy and the unfolding chaos. Theo, sensing the raised voices, started fussing in his high chair.Damien remained calm, his presence commanding the room without effort.“This doesn’t concern you, Serena.”“Doesn’t concern me?” Serena laughed bitterly, her gaze slicing toward Amy.“My son is being paraded around with his new nanny on stage like it's some happy little family unit while I get tagged as the bitter ex. Do you have any idea how this makes me look?”Amy stood frozen near the kitchen island, heart hammering. The dress from last night suddenly felt too tight and too exposed. She co
The morning light felt harsher than usual.Amy barely slept, her lips still remembering the pressure of Damien’s kiss and the low promise in his voice: “The next time I kiss you… I won’t stop.”She was in the kitchen preparing Theo’s breakfast when the elevator chimed at exactly 8:15 a.m. Aunt Clara stepped out looking sharp in a tailored navy pantsuit, tablet in hand, and her expression already scanning the room like a general assessing a battlefield.“Amy,” Clara said warmly, pulling her into a quick hug. Then she held her at arm’s length, eyes narrowing. “You look tired. And… flushed. Everything okay?”Amy forced a smile. “It's just me adjusting to the new routine. Last night was the charity gala and it ran late.”Clara’s eyebrows rose. “I saw the photos this morning.” Her tone shifted. “You were on stage with Damien and Theo. Very… visible.”Before Amy could respond, Damien appeared from the hallway, looking unfairly composed in a charcoal suit. His gaze flicked to Amy fir
Damien paused, his lips hovering just inches from hers. His hand remained firm on the small of her back, holding her close even as Amy pressed against his chest.“Aunt Clara?” he repeated, voice low and rough with disbelief and frustration.“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”Amy’s heart was racing so hard she was sure he could feel it. The taste of his brief kiss still lingered on her lips. It felt warm, confident, and far too addictive.“Yes,” she whispered, barely audible over the distant hum of the gala.“She’s coming tomorrow morning. She’s the one who got me this job. She warned me about you. If she sees… no, if she even suspects something is happening between us, I’ll lose everything. My credibility and possibly my paycheck. My chance to actually rebuild my life.”Damien’s stormy whiskey eyes searched hers for a long moment. The possessiveness in them hadn’t faded - if anything, it had sharpened.“You’re still so focused on everyone else’s rules,” he said.His thumb
The charity gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art was everything Amy had feared - blinding camera flashes, elegant crowds in designer gowns and tuxedos, and the constant weight of eyes following their every move.She had tried to stay invisible.Dressed in a simple but elegant black gown Aunt Clara had arranged for her, Amy kept to the edges of the room. She secured Theo in a stylish baby carrier against her chest. She smiled politely when spoken to, and answered questions about the baby with professional warmth, and avoided the main spotlight like it would burn her.But Damien Ross made it low-key impossible.Everywhere he went, the room shifted. Billionaires, CEOs, and old-money socialites parted for him like he was royalty. People greeted him with deference - their laughs were a little too loud, and their handshakes a little too eager. Even among the top shots of New York society, Damien wasn’t just another wealthy man - he was the man. The one they all wanted a piece of. Am
Amy was still trying to calm her racing pulse from the kitchen encounter when Damien appeared in the nursery doorway later that afternoon.Theo was playing on his activity mat, happily batting at dangling toys, while Amy sat cross-legged beside him, sketching idly on her tablet. She looked up as Damien’s tall frame filled the entrance. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were already locked on her.“We’re going out tonight,” he said without preamble. “You and Theo are coming with me.”Amy blinked, caught completely off guard. “Tonight? Where?”“A charity gala at the Met. Black tie. High profile.” His voice was calm and businesslike, as if he were discussing the weather. “I need Theo there for the photos. You’ll be accompanying him as his nanny.”Amy’s stomach dropped. She slowly set her tablet aside and rose to her feet. “Mr. Ross… that’s a very public event. There will be paparazzi everywhere. Cameras. Reporters. If I’m seen with you and Theo...”“You’ll be fine,” he cut







