Chapter Twelve: The Nanny

AVA

I woke up the next morning with Liam's words echoing in my head. "Once I have full custody, I won't need her anymore." The betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound. I'd signed away my freedom for nothing but borrowed time with my son.

The sound of Eli's laughter drifted down the hallway, and I followed it like a lifeline. I found him in the playroom with Elena, who was teaching him to count in what sounded like Spanish.

"Uno, dos, tres," Eli repeated carefully, clapping his hands.

"Very good, Master Eli," Elena praised. "You're so smart."

"Morning, sweetheart," I said, entering the room.

Eli looked up and smiled. "Mama! Elena is teaching me numbers!"

"That's wonderful." I knelt down beside them. "Can you show Mama?"

But Elena immediately stood up, smoothing her crisp uniform. "Actually, it's time for Master Eli's educational program. We can't disrupt his learning schedule."

"Educational program? He's barely two years old."

"Early childhood development is crucial," Elena said, pulling out a tablet. "Mr. Blackwood has enrolled him in the best online learning system available."

"He doesn't need online learning. He needs to play."

"Play is fine in moderation, but structured learning builds neural pathways that will benefit him throughout his life."

I watched in horror as Elena set Eli in front of the tablet, where cartoon characters began teaching alphabet sounds. My active, curious little boy sat mesmerized by the screen.

"How long does he watch this?"

"Thirty minutes in the morning, thirty minutes after lunch. Mr. Blackwood believes in balanced development."

"What about reading books together? Singing songs? Playing with blocks?"

"Those activities are scheduled for specific times. Right now is educational screen time."

I felt like screaming. Everything natural and spontaneous about childhood was being scheduled and controlled.

"Elena," I said carefully. "I'd like to spend some time with Eli this morning. Just the two of us."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. After his educational program, he has occupational therapy."

"Occupational therapy? For what?"

"Fine motor skills development. It's very important at his age."

"He's two! His fine motor skills are perfect!"

"Mrs. Blackwood, perhaps you don't understand the level of preparation required for children of Mr. Blackwood's social standing. Every advantage must be maximized."

"He's not a business project. He's a little boy."

"He's a little boy who deserves the best possible start in life."

Elena's tone was patronizing, like she was explaining something obvious to a slow child. It made my teeth clench.

"I'm his mother. I should have some say in his daily routine."

"Of course. Mr. Blackwood values your input. However, I was hired specifically for my expertise in early childhood development. I have degrees from Harvard and Yale, plus fifteen years of experience with high-achieving families."

The message was clear. I was uneducated, inexperienced, and unqualified.

"Where is Mr. Blackwood?" I asked.

"In his study. But he asked not to be disturbed before ten. He has important calls with Tokyo."

I left them there, Elena and my son bonding over educational cartoons while I wandered the penthouse like a ghost. Every room reminded me that I didn't belong here, that I was just a temporary resident in someone else's world.

At ten sharp, I knocked on Liam's study door.

"Come in."

He was behind his desk, looking perfectly composed in a navy suit. Several contracts were spread in front of him, and his laptop screen showed what looked like stock charts.

"I need to talk to you about Elena."

"What about her?"

"She's taking over everything with Eli. I can't even read him a story without her supervision."

"Elena is highly qualified. She knows what she's doing."

"So do I. I'm his mother."

"You're a mother with no formal training in child development."

"I don't need formal training to love my son!"

"Love isn't enough, Ava. Elena can give him structured learning, proper nutrition planning, developmental assessments. She can prepare him for the kind of life he'll have as my heir."

"He's two years old! He needs hugs and stories and playing in the park!"

"He needs preparation for his future responsibilities."

"What responsibilities? He's a toddler!"

Liam set down his pen and looked at me with the patience of someone explaining basic concepts to a child. "Eli will inherit a billion-dollar empire someday. He needs to be equipped for that responsibility from the earliest possible age."

"He needs to be a kid first."

"Childhood is a luxury he can't afford."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"That's reality. The sooner you accept it, the easier this will be for everyone."

"Including Victoria?"

His expression hardened. "We're not discussing Victoria."

"Why not? She's clearly part of Eli's life now. She brought him gifts, she's planning to visit more often."

"Victoria has been part of my life for years. She understands my world in ways you never could."

"Because you won't give me a chance to understand it!"

"Because you don't belong in it!" The words exploded out of him, raw and brutal. "You're here because of biology, Ava. Because you happened to get pregnant after one night. That doesn't make you suited for this life."

The words hit me like physical blows. "Then why keep me here at all?"

"Because Eli needs stability while he adjusts to his new life. You're a familiar face, a comfort object to help him transition."

"A comfort object." I repeated the words numbly.

"When he no longer needs that comfort, this arrangement will end."

"And then what happens to me?"

"That's not my problem."

I stood there absorbing the full extent of his cruelty. "You're going to throw me away when I'm no longer useful."

"I'm going to end a temporary arrangement when it's no longer necessary."

"Does Elena know this?"

"Elena knows her job is to prepare Eli for his future. A future that may or may not include daily access to his birth mother."

Birth mother. Not mother. Birth mother. Like I was just the vessel that brought him into the world.

"I want Elena's supervision of me to stop."

"That's not going to happen."

"I'm his mother!"

"And Elena is his nanny. A nanny I trust completely."

"You don't trust me."

"I don't trust anyone completely. But Elena has proven herself reliable."

"Reliable how?"

"She follows instructions. She doesn't question my methods. She puts Eli's needs first."

"Above whose needs?"

"Above everyone's. Including yours."

I felt tears building behind my eyes, but I refused to cry in front of him. "What if Elena's methods aren't what's best for Eli?"

"Elena's methods are based on the latest child development research. Your methods are based on what, exactly? Instinct? Feelings?"

"Love."

"Love without knowledge is dangerous."

"And knowledge without love is cold."

"Cold gets results."

I stared at this man I'd married, wondering how someone could be so successful at business and so broken as a human being. "Did your parents treat you this way?"

Something flickered across his face before the mask slammed back down. "My childhood isn't relevant to this conversation."

"It is if you're repeating the same mistakes with Eli."

"I'm not making mistakes. I'm making investments in his future."

"He's not a stock portfolio!"

"He's my heir. Every decision I make about his upbringing will affect his ability to lead this company someday."

"What if he doesn't want to lead your company?"

"He will. Because he'll be properly prepared for it."

I left his study feeling more defeated than ever. The afternoon dragged by with scheduled activities. Elena took Eli to his occupational therapy appointment while I attended a charity committee meeting where women who'd never worked a day in their lives discussed helping the poor.

That evening, I tried again to participate in Eli's bedtime routine. I wanted to give him a bath, read him stories, and sing the lullabies that used to comfort him.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mrs. Blackwood," Elena said as I reached for Eli's pajamas. "But we have a very specific routine that's been working perfectly."

"I want to help."

"Of course. You can watch and learn the proper methods."

Watch and learn. Like I was a student in my own son's life.

Elena bathed Eli with professional efficiency, using special soaps and following what she called a "sensory development protocol." She read him educational books instead of the simple picture books I preferred. She sang him complex classical pieces instead of simple lullabies.

"All done," she announced, lifting Eli from the tub. "Time for his evening medication."

"Medication? What medication?"

Elena pulled a small bottle from the medicine cabinet. "Vitamins and a mild sleep aid. Mr. Blackwood wants to ensure Master Eli gets proper rest."

"Sleep aid? He's never needed help sleeping before."

"Children in high-stress environments often need assistance regulating their sleep cycles."

"What high-stress environment? He's two!"

"The transition to a new home, new routines, new expectations. It's a lot for a small child to process."

I watched Elena measure out what looked like liquid medicine into a small cup. "What exactly is that?"

"A mild herbal supplement. Completely natural and doctor-approved."

"Which doctor?"

"Dr. Reeves, the pediatrician Mr. Blackwood has chosen for Master Eli."

"I want to see the bottle."

Elena hesitated for just a moment before handing it over. The label was from an expensive-looking pharmacy, but the ingredients list was long and complicated.

"This seems like a lot of medication for a healthy child."

"It's not medication, it's a sleep supplement. Very common in affluent families."

She gave Eli the liquid, and he made a face. "Yucky, Elena."

"I know, sweetheart. But it helps you have good dreams."

Within minutes, Eli's eyelids were drooping. Elena placed him in his crib, and he was asleep almost immediately.

"That seems very fast," I said, concerned.

"It's a sign that his system needed the rest. Some children fight sleep when they're overstimulated."

"He wasn't overstimulated. He was playing normally."

Elena began cleaning up the bathroom with brisk efficiency. "Mrs. Blackwood, perhaps you don't realize how much Master Eli's behavior has improved since starting his new routine. Mr. Blackwood is very pleased with his progress."

"What kind of progress?"

"Better sleep patterns, improved focus during educational activities, less crying, more compliance with instructions."

"Compliance? He's two years old, not a soldier."

Elena turned to face me, and for the first time, her professional mask slipped slightly. A small, cold smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"Mr. Blackwood wants his son to sleep properly through the night. Unlike some mothers, I know what's best for children.”