Love changes the fates ---Chapter One – The Nanny Who Forgot Her PlaceThe palace was a world of polished marble, gilded halls, and rules that could suffocate even the most obedient soul. Lina knew those rules better than anyone—she had worked as the royal nanny for three years, tasked with caring for the youngest members of the court. Her life was supposed to be simple: rise at dawn, tend to the children, keep her head down, and above all, never attract unnecessary attention.But for someone like Lina, keeping her head down was impossible.She had always been too quick with her tongue, too restless in her heart. Her mother used to tell her that one day her words would get her into trouble, and in the palace, trouble wasn’t something one survived easily. Still, Lina couldn’t help herself.“Young lady,” the head steward hissed one morning as she hurried across the east corridor, skirts flaring behind her, “slow your steps! You’ll draw His Highness’s ire if you barrel through like a common street hawker.”Lina flashed him a smile, not slowing her pace. “Better to barrel through than to let the prince’s nephew wander into the kitchens again. Do you want to explain to the queen why her grandson smells like roasted onions?”The steward turned a dangerous shade of red, but Lina didn’t stop. She had a toddler on her hip and a mind racing faster than her feet. The boy was squirming wildly, sticky hands tugging at her braids as she tried to keep him from wriggling free.“Careful, Casian!” she scolded gently. “If you keep fighting me, you’ll end up on the floor, and then we’ll both be in trouble.”The little prince only giggled, as though the prospect of tumbling onto the marble floor was the greatest adventure imaginable.Lina sighed. It was just another ordinary morning—until she turned a corner and nearly slammed into someone.The someone.Ethan.The crown prince of Alveria, heir to the throne, and the single most intimidating man Lina had ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t wearing his ceremonial robes today, just a dark tunic with silver embroidery, but that did nothing to lessen his presence. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair neatly tied back, and carried himself with the effortless confidence of a man who had never once tripped over a toy block in his life.Lina froze, her heart leaping to her throat.“Forgive me, Your Highness,” she blurted, dipping her head quickly, trying to shift Casian so that he didn’t kick the prince’s leg.Ethan’s sharp gaze flicked over her, then to the child clinging to her neck. His voice was calm, smooth, but laced with the kind of authority that made even seasoned generals sweat. “You should be more careful. The palace halls are not a playground.”Lina’s cheeks burned. She should have bowed again, apologized more sincerely, maybe even begged for forgiveness. Instead, the words tumbled out before she could stop them.“Tell that to your nephew,” she said, adjusting the squirming toddler in her arms. “He thinks the corridor is a racetrack.”The steward trailing behind Lina looked like he was about to faint. No one spoke to the prince like that—not unless they wanted to be dismissed by sundown.But to Lina’s shock, Ethan’s lips curved. It wasn’t quite a smile—more like a twitch, as though he wasn’t used to the expression—but it was there.“You’re bold,” he said finally.“Or foolish,” Lina muttered under her breath.Unfortunately, Ethan heard. His eyes glimmered with something unreadable, and Lina suddenly wished the marble floor would swallow her whole.“Foolishness can be forgiven,” he said, his voice low. “Dishonesty cannot. Which are you, Nanny?”Lina swallowed hard. She didn’t know why he was looking at her that way, as though she were more than just another servant bustling about the palace. She didn’t know why her heart beat faster when he said the word Nanny, as though he had turned a simple title into something intimate.“I’m the one keeping your nephew from turning this palace upside down,” she said at last, lifting her chin. “Take that however you like, Your Highness.”The steward gasped audibly, but Ethan didn’t scold her. He only gave her one last unreadable look before stepping aside, gesturing for her to continue down the hall.Lina marched past him, the child still balanced on her hip, but her thoughts were in chaos. She had just backtalked the crown prince. And instead of throwing her out, he had almost smiled.The rest of the day blurred together. She played with Casian in the nursery, sang songs to lull him into his nap, and scol

--- Chapter 1 — The City Never Sleeps They say Aurelia never sleeps. That’s true, but it also never forgives. By the time the sun dipped behind the glass towers, the streets began to hum — engines, laughter, the metallic click of heels on pavement. It was a city of gold and neon, built for people who pretended to be untouchable. I wasn’t one of them. I was just another shadow slipping between its lights. My name is Selene Ward. And I sell dreams — for an hour, a night, sometimes just a moment. I didn’t grow up wanting this life. No one does. But Aurelia has a way of swallowing you whole when you have nowhere else to go. My mother used to say the city gave and took in equal measure. She left when I was sixteen, chasing promises that never came back. My father—well, he left before I could even remember his face. So I learned to survive. And survival in Aurelia meant knowing what people wanted before they did. Tonight, I was waiting in the lobby of The Arcturus — one of the most expensive hotels in the city. The kind of place that smelled like jasmine, money, and quiet desperation. I wore a black dress that fit like smoke and heels I’d borrowed from another girl at the agency. It wasn’t a good night for sentimentality. Clients didn’t like tears, and they definitely didn’t like stories. But the moment he walked in, something shifted. George didn’t belong in that lobby — not in the way the others did. I recognized him instantly. Everyone in Aurelia did. George Carrington — the city’s golden boy. Actor, philanthropist, tabloid regular. His face was on every billboard from the airport to the pier. His family owned half the entertainment industry and most of the politicians. He had that kind of polished confidence you couldn’t buy — the kind that came from being born into light. So why was he looking at me like I was the only person in the room? I tried not to stare, but my body betrayed me. There was something disarming about him — not his fame, not even his beauty, but the sadness behind his eyes. It wasn’t the kind you could hide behind cameras and smiles. It was real. And I hated that I noticed. He crossed the lobby slowly, ignoring the people who whispered his name. When his gaze met mine, I looked away — instinct, self-defense. Men like him didn’t see women like me. At least, not in public. But then he stopped right in front of me. “You’re waiting for someone?” His voice was lower than I expected — smooth, quiet, with that slight rasp that made it sound like a secret. I forced a smile. “Aren’t we all?” He laughed softly, not the fake kind people give to be polite. The real kind. “Touché.” I didn’t know what to say next. My handler had told me my client for the night was late — some corporate executive who’d requested me specifically. But George… George wasn’t supposed to be here. “Selene Ward?” the concierge called, holding a phone to his chest. “Your guest has canceled. Full payment’s been made, though.” I nodded, hiding my disappointment. That meant I still got paid, but the emptiness of a canceled night always stung. Not because I wanted the company — but because I’d dressed up for nothing. Prepared for nothing. George raised an eyebrow. “Canceled?” “Seems that way,” I said, shrugging. “Guess I get the night off.” “Lucky you,” he said, but there was a flicker of something else in his tone — envy, maybe. The kind of envy rich people had for freedom they couldn’t buy. He hesitated, then reached for his sunglasses. “You want to get out of here? Have dinner with me.” I blinked. “You’re serious?” “Very,” he said. “You look like someone who could use a real meal, and I look like someone who doesn’t want to eat alone.” I laughed — I couldn’t help it. “You don’t even know me.” “Maybe that’s why I want to,” he said softly. It should’ve been easy to say no. I’d spent years building walls that no man could climb, not without paying first. But something about the way he said it — the tired honesty in his voice — cracked something open in me. So I said yes. --- We ended up at a small rooftop restaurant overlooking the river. He ordered wine, I ordered coffee. I told him I didn’t drink, and he didn’t push. We talked — really talked. Not the kind of shallow conversation I usually had to fake. He asked about my favorite places in the city, my favorite music, the things I did when I wasn’t working. I lied at first, out of habit. Told him I was a freelance consultant, that I worked odd hours. But George wasn’t stupid. His eyes lingered on the bruises hidden by makeup, the hesitation in my voice when he asked about my family. Finally, he said quietly, “You don’t have to pretend with me, Selene.” That sentence hit harder than I expected. Because no one had ever said that to me before — not once. I stared at him. “What do you think I’m p