My daughter's nanny

Chapter 1 Isabella Brandon had always believed her life would turn out differently. She pictured herself at Oxford University, studying literature under towering bookshelves, sipping tea in cozy cafés while writing stories that could change lives. But life had its own cruel pen, scribbling lines she never asked for. That evening, she sat at her small desk in the corner of her room, scrolling through scholarship websites. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad as she compared deadlines, but each one required application fees or transcripts she didn’t have. The dim bulb above flickered twice before stabilizing, casting shadows on the peeling wallpaper. She heard laughter from downstairs—the clinking of wine glasses and the echo of Marianna’s high-pitched giggle. Her stepsister’s voice was sugar-coated but sharp enough to cut glass. Isabella didn’t need to see the scene to know Elena was entertaining guests, her diamond bracelet flashing under the light, her fake warmth on display. The clock read 9:12 p.m. Her father still hadn’t returned from the clinic. His health had been declining for months, and the treatments were costing more than they could manage. Isabella knew every whispered argument between Elena and her father was about money, even if they lowered their voices when she entered. The sudden creak of her bedroom door made her flinch. Elena stepped in, her silk robe swishing against the floor. Marianna trailed behind, a phone in hand, smiling like she’d just heard the juiciest gossip. “Isabella,” Elena began, her tone unnervingly sweet. “We need to have a serious conversation.” Isabella shut her laptop slowly. “What is it?” Elena perched on the edge of her bed, crossing one leg over the other. “You know your father’s condition isn’t improving. The doctor says without the next phase of treatment, he may not survive the year.” Isabella’s throat tightened. “I’ve been applying for jobs..” “Jobs?” Elena let out a soft laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Darling, a waitress’s paycheck won’t keep the lights on, much less pay for hospital bills.” Marianna stepped forward, holding a glossy folder. “That’s why Mom found a… better solution.” Isabella frowned. “What do you mean?” Elena flipped the folder open. Inside was a neatly printed document, stamped with a gold seal at the top. “A surrogacy contract. One hundred million dollars in exchange for carrying a child for a wealthy man. No strings attached. Once the baby is born, the money will be ours.” Isabella’s heart skipped a beat. “You can’t be serious. You want me to…” she lowered her voice, “...have a stranger’s baby?” Elena leaned closer. “Think of your father. Think of the life you could have after this. Oxford, a beautiful apartment, no debt. It’s only nine months.” Marianna scoffed. “It’s not like weston is going to wait around for you. He’s already flirting with other girls.” Isabella’s stomach turned at the mention of Weston. Still, she shook her head. “No. This is insane. There has to be another way.” Elena’s smile vanished. “There isn’t. If you refuse, your father’s treatment stops. He could die. Is that what you want?” Her father’s voice startled them all. “That’s enough, Elena.” Isabella turned toward the doorway. Her father stood there, leaning heavily on his cane, his face pale but his eyes sharp. He entered the room slowly, his gaze fixed on Elena. “She’s my daughter, not a commodity you can sell.” Elena’s lips tightened. “I’m trying to save your life. Or have you forgotten we’re drowning in debt?” “I would rather die than force Isabella into this,” he said firmly. His voice cracked, but the conviction in it made Isabella’s eyes sting. “She’s barely twenty. She deserves a future that is bright not bought with her body.” Isabella’s chest ached. “Dad…” “No,” he cut in. “We’ll find another way. We always do.” Marianna rolled her eyes. “Another way? Like what? Magic? We’re broke, Uncle’s business is gone, and Mom’s jewelry barely sells for anything. Stop being stubborn.” Elena turned her attention back to Isabella, ignoring her husband. “Think about this, sweetheart. A billionaire’s lawyer will be here tomorrow. Just meet with him. Hear him out. If you don’t like it, we’ll drop it.” Isabella didn’t agree, but she didn’t refuse either. She spent that night staring at her ceiling, her father’s words fighting Elena’s promises in her head. --- The next afternoon, a black sedan pulled up in front of the Brandon's residence. A tall man in a charcoal suit stepped out, carrying a leather briefcase. His hair was peppered with gray, his movements precise. He introduced himself as Mr. Harrison, legal representative of the surrogacy contract. They sat in the dining room. Isabella sat at one end of the table, her father beside her, Elena across, and Marianna lounging in a chair like she was watching a soap opera. Mr. Harrison spoke plainly. “This is a legally binding surrogacy agreement. My client will cover all medical expenses, provide a monthly stipend, and issue a lump payment of one hundred million dollars upon delivery of the child. You will have no parental rights. Contact with the child will be prohibited.” Isabella’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Why… me?” Mr. Harrison didn’t flinch. “My client prefers anonymity and requested a candidate with no significant public presence. Your medical history shows you are healthy, and your background check indicated no criminal activity. You meet the profile.” Her father’s hand covered hers. “We’re not agreeing to this.” Elena’s eyes flashed. “Can we have a moment alone with Isabella?” Her father refused to leave, but Elena pressed on. “Isabella, imagine what you could do with that money. Your father could get the best doctors. You could study anywhere. You could buy your freedom.” Isabella’s eyes dropped to the contract. Her father’s cough broke the silence. It was deep, raw, and painful. She looked at him,his skin pale, his frame thinner than she remembered. He wouldn’t say it, but she could see he was getting worse. “Dad,” she whispered, “what if this is the only way?” “It’s not,” he said, but even his voice wavered. Mr. Harrison slid a pen across the table. “The offer expires in 24 hours.” Isabella’s heart pounded. Her dreams, her father’s health, her dignity—they all collided in that moment. She didn’t want to do this, but the thought of losing him was unbearable. Her hand shook as she picked up the pen. “If I do this… the money goes to my father’s treatment first.” Elena smiled faintly. “Of course, darling.” She signed her name. The ink sank into the paper like quicksand, pulling her into a future she couldn’t escape. Marianna clapped mockingly. “Congratulations. You’re officially Westwood’s most expensive womb.” Isabella pushed the pen away, her stomach hollow. She couldn’t shake the feeling she had just signed away more than nine months of her life.