His Daughter's Nanny, His Heart's Obsession

His Daughter's Nanny, His Heart's Obsession

Bididi

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His Nanny, His Obsession She needed a job. He needed someone to care for the child his ex-wife abandoned. Aria Morgan is smart, calm under pressure, and desperate for income after her father's death. When a high-paying nanny position opens at the Knight estate, she steps into a world of marble floors, silent halls... and a billionaire CEO who trusts no one. Damon Knight is cold. Controlled. Brutally rich. The only thing he loves is his four-year-old daughter. And even that love is guarded. But Aria doesn't flinch when he barks. She doesn't crumble when he tests her. She softens his child's pain... and begins melting the ice around his heart. Then comes Liam - Damon's charming younger brother - and the subtle triangle begins. But just when Damon realizes he can't lose Aria... His ex-wife returns. And she's not here for peace. She wants her daughter back. She wants Damon. And she'll ruin Aria to get both. In this war of love, loyalty, and legacy– only one woman can stay.

Chapter 1 Hired by the Billionaire

The iron gates loomed before her like a warning.

Aria Morgan clutched her worn purse tighter as the sleek black town car pulled up the stone-paved driveway. The estate beyond was massive-three stories of pale marble and steel, glass panels glinting like the edge of a blade under the overcast sky.

It didn't feel like a home.

It felt like a fortress.

And she was walking straight into the lion's den.

Her stomach twisted.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself. "This is just a job. Just like the others."

Except it wasn't.

The mansion belonged to Damon Knight-billionaire CEO, head of Knight Global, and the kind of man tabloids called ruthless, unreachable, and emotionally dead. A man whose wife had walked out and never looked back, leaving him and their daughter in a silence so thick even the staff refused to speak above a whisper.

And now, apparently, he needed a nanny.

Or maybe he just needed someone to blame when things fell apart again.

The car rolled to a stop beneath the grand portico. A stone angel towered over the entrance-its wings cracked, its expression mournful. Aria climbed out, her low heels clicking against the polished stone.

A butler in a dark uniform stepped forward without a word and nodded her inside.

The mansion's interior was colder than the outside. White marble floors stretched for miles, and the silence was deafening. No laughter. No voices. Just the faint ticking of an antique clock echoing from a distant hallway.

"This way," the butler said, his tone flat and expression unreadable.

As Aria followed him through the halls, her pulse quickened. Oil paintings lined the walls, each more somber than the last. She passed a grand staircase, a music room filled with untouched instruments, and a sitting room so sterile it could have belonged in a museum.

She saw no toys. No signs of a child at all.

The butler stopped outside a pair of tall mahogany doors.

"Wait here," he said stiffly. "Mr. Knight will see you shortly."

Aria nodded, pressing her damp palms against the fabric of her navy blouse. She tried to calm her racing thoughts, reminding herself that she was here for Isla-not for the billionaire behind the nameplate.

But when the doors creaked open from the inside, everything she'd rehearsed vanished from her head.

He stood behind a sleek glass desk, dressed in black from collar to cuff. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sculpted features and an air so cold it could freeze fire. His eyes-steel gray and sharp as a scalpel-locked onto hers with chilling precision.

"Miss Morgan," he said. His voice was low, clipped. "You're early."

"Apologies," she said quickly, swallowing hard. "The driver was... efficient."

He didn't respond. Not with a nod. Not with a smile. Just silence.

Then, curtly, "Sit."

She obeyed.

The chair across from him was too stiff, too low. A subtle power move.

He picked up a sheet of paper-her résumé-but didn't look at it. Instead, his gaze stayed on her, as if assessing her worth with just his eyes.

"You've worked with children before?"

"Yes, sir. Three years at Westbridge Daycare. One year as a live-in nanny for a family in Boston."

"No criminal record. No online drama. No unexplained gaps in employment," he listed, flicking through the pages. "No history of quitting under pressure."

"No," she confirmed. "I stay until the work is done."

"Why this job?"

Aria hesitated for only a moment. "Because I need it. And I'm good at it."

"Honest," he murmured. "Rare."

He stood without warning, moving from behind the desk to stand directly in front of her. He was close. Too close. The scent of clean soap and something darker-like expensive leather-hung in the air between them.

"My daughter doesn't speak," he said.

Aria blinked. "At all?"

"Not a word. Not in over seven months. If you can't handle silence, walk out now."

Her voice was soft but steady. "I don't mind silence. I mind neglect."

His eyes flashed for just a second, but the storm passed before she could read it.

"You'll be required to live in," he continued. "You'll follow a schedule. Meals are punctual. No personal visitors. You report only to me."

Aria nodded.

"No phones around my daughter," he added. "No pictures. No questions about her mother. Understood?"

"Yes."

"You'll be paid weekly. Generously." He paused. "But if you step out of line... you'll be gone before you can pack your things."

He extended a keycard.

"You start now."

Aria took the card, fingers brushing his. His skin was warm-unexpected for someone so cold.

"That's it?" she asked, startled. "No interview questions?"

"I don't interview," he said without blinking. "I observe."

With that, he turned away, walking through a side door and disappearing into shadow, as if dismissing her not just from the room-but from his attention entirely.

She stood frozen in the doorway, keycard in hand, heart hammering in her chest.

She had been hired.

No handshake. No welcome. No clue what came next.

Just orders... and ice.

But Aria wasn't here for luxury. She wasn't here for fairy tales.

She was here to take care of a little girl no one seemed to understand.

And if that meant facing the storm that was Damon Knight, so be it.

Let him test her.

She had weathered worse.

And this time, she wasn't planning to run.

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