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Not Just A Nanny: The Genius Returns

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 350    |    Released on: 15/01/2026

He needed a drink. He needed to make sense of

ered as they left the gala

s go get some late-night food. We picked up Ho

iner, the kind with velvet booths

cream!" Ho

t, buddy," Easton

black Porsche pul

side. They had come for

ed, seeing the Harringt

oked. She cou

ct tableau. Easton, handsome and brooding

spoonful of sundae into his mouth.

The diner door opened as a waiter stepped ou

lt's voice carried clear as a bell. "She

ed Holt's hair. "Yeah, b

to her chest, clutching the silk of her dress. It felt

she cho

the steering wheel. "I'm

m. Her nails dug into his j

and nodded. He gunned the engine. The Porsche roare

red to the passing street

to of Holt she kept

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Not Just A Nanny: The Genius Returns
Not Just A Nanny: The Genius Returns
“I spent five years as the perfect wife to Easton Harrington, smoothing his midnight-blue ties and fading into the wallpaper of his massive estate. I thought I was the heart of our family, but I was really just a ghost in a sensible beige dress. The illusion shattered at a charity gala when Easton's "family friend," Georgina, appeared in a gown that matched his suit perfectly. While they basked in the flashbulbs as a golden couple, I was literally pushed into the velvet ropes by a cameraman. No one noticed. Then my four-year-old son, Holt, slapped my hand away in front of the city's elite. "Don't touch me! You're not my mom, you're just the nanny. Daddy said so." The room went silent, but Easton didn't defend me. He just looked annoyed that I was causing a scene, making a sharp shooing motion for me to take the boy away. Beside him, Georgina feigned shock while her eyes crinkled in pure amusement. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a placeholder. They had stripped me of my dignity and even my child's love, treating my five years of devotion like a temporary staff position. I didn't scream. I just slid off the Harrington heirloom ring, tossed it into a fountain, and walked out into the night. Easton thinks I'm a penniless housewife who won't last a week without his credit cards. He doesn't know that I'm Dr. Althea Morrison, the "prodigy" researcher his company has been begging to hire. I'm not asking for alimony, and I'm not begging for a second chance. I'm returning to the lab to build an empire that will bring his to its knees.”