The Billionaire's Nanny のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

★NINA★The silence that followed Malachi’s demand was heavy, thick with the scent of his expensive cologne and the lingering, sharp smell of the vinegar that had soaked into my dress. I couldn't tell him. Not all of it. How could I explain that a simple black car could turn me back into a terrified thirteen-year-old girl hiding in a closet while her world ended?"I... I just thought I saw someone," I whispered, my voice cracking. I pulled back slightly, and to my surprise, he let me go, though his eyes remained fixed on mine like he was trying to read the thoughts I was working so hard to hide. "It was nothing, Mr. Malachi. I’m just tired. The sun... and the groceries..."He didn't look like he believed a single word, but he didn't push. Not yet. He stood up, smoothing out his ruined trousers, his expression unreadable. "Go wash up, Nina. We’ll talk later."I didn't wait for a second command. I practically scrambled off the couch and bolted for the stairs. But I didn't go to my room.

★NINA★The morning after the gym incident felt like a lesson in suffocation. I expected a pink slip; instead, I got a ghost. Malachi moved through the house like a specter of his former self—rigid, silent, avoiding my gaze. Whenever our eyes nearly met, he would pivot away, his jaw tightening so hard I could almost hear bone grinding against bone.I sat in the dining room, idly picking at a piece of toast while Lila explained the complicated politics of her stuffed-animal kingdom, when a shadow fell across the table.Malachi stood there, fully dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my entire life. He didn’t sit. Instead, he slid a thin, matte-black card across the table. It landed beside my plate with a soft clack.I glanced at the card, then back at him, confused. “What is this?”“A credit card, Nina. I believe the concept is universal,” he said. His voice was cold—sharp and stinging, like dry ice.Heat flared in my chest, and it had nothing to do with attraction and

★NINA★I woke up with a headache that felt like someone had taken a hammer to the inside of my skull.The room was still dark, the kind of dark that comes right before dawn when the house hasn’t decided whether it’s night or morning yet. My mouth tasted like sour wine and regret. I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow.Last night came back in pieces.The candles. The food that tasted like money. Malachi’s hand covering mine when I almost cried. The way his eyes softened when I laughed too loud at my own stupid joke. The quick kiss I’d pressed to his cheek—like I was someone who did things like that.I’d kissed my boss on the cheek.And then run upstairs like a teenager who’d just committed a crime.Heat flooded my face even though no one was watching. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to disappear.It didn’t work.The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 6:14 a.m. Too early to be awake, too late to pretend last night hadn’t happened. I forced myself to sit

★NINA★The dream always began with silence.Not the soft kind that settles over a sleeping house. This silence felt wrong. It pressed against my ears until they rang and weighed heavily on my chest.I stood in the hallway of my childhood home.The walls were still painted that pale cream my mother insisted made everything brighter. The framed photographs were perfectly aligned. The grandfather clock at the end of the corridor ticked steadily, its pendulum swinging in slow, deliberate arcs.Tick. Tick. Tick.I tried to move, but my feet felt glued to the polished wooden floor. My reflection stared back at me from the glass of a framed photograph—but it wasn’t right. My eyes looked older and hollow. It felt like they already knew what was coming.Somewhere downstairs, a door creaked open. The sound slithered through the house.“No,” I whispered.But dreams never listened.I tried to run toward my parents’ bedroom, but my legs wouldn’t respond. My body moved as if it were submerged in wa

★NINA★The estate looked like a princess exploded in pastel.Balloons bobbed from every tree, every railing, every chair. Pink, purple, gold—tied in clusters so thick you could barely see the lawn underneath. The bounce house rose like a sugary castle in the middle of the grass, pink-and-purple stripes glowing in the afternoon sun. Kids screamed inside it, tumbling over each other, their laughter sharp and wild.Sugar was everywhere. Frosting on tiny hands, on cheeks, on the hem of my dress. Tiara after tiara had slipped sideways. Face paint had turned from cute butterflies into abstract war paint. I was in full nanny mode—refereeing games of musical chairs, reattaching loose bows, wiping sticky fingers with wet wipes I’d stashed in every pocket.And Malachi?He stood near the edge of the patio, arms crossed, in dark jeans and a simple white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. No tie or jacket. Just him, looking like he’d wandered into the wrong universe.He wasn’t ming