The Nanny's Redemption

Chapter 3

She stood. Walked to the window. Looked out at the quiet street.

"Because somewhere between changing diapers and dodging your glares I started caring. About him. About you."

Darian felt something shift inside his chest. Heavy thing. Old thing. Breaking open.

He stood too. Walked to her. Slow because of the wound.

She did not turn.

He stopped behind her. Close.

"Mila," he said.

She turned.

Their eyes locked.

He lifted his hand. Touched her cheek. Thumb brushed her skin.

"You do not have to stay in the shadows anymore," he told her.

Tears filled her eyes. First time he saw them.

"I do not know how to be anything else," she whispered.

"Then we learn together."

He leaned down. Kissed her. Soft at first. Careful. Then deeper when she kissed back. Hands found each other. Her fingers in his hair. His on her waist.

They broke apart breathing hard.

She rested her forehead against his.

"This is dangerous," she said.

"Everything about my life is dangerous."

She smiled small. "True."

His phone buzzed on the table. He ignored it.

It buzzed again.

Mila pulled away. Picked it up.

Her face changed.

"What?" he asked.

"Message from my friend. Playground. Amila is not with her."

Darian felt cold flood his veins.

"She says someone took him. Two men. Black SUV. They had a picture of Bella. Said they were family."

Darian grabbed the phone. Read the message himself.

Then he looked at Mila.

"They moved faster than we thought."

She nodded. Already moving. Grabbed her gun. Extra clip. Car keys.

"We get him back," she said.

He pulled on a fresh shirt she handed him. Winced when it touched the bandage.

"We get him back," he agreed.

They left the house.

Sun high now. Heat rising from the ground.

Mila drove. Fast. Toward Lekki.

Darian sat beside her. Loading his own gun. The one she had kept for him in the glove box.

"You kept my gun," he said.

"Figured you would need it eventually."

He looked at her. "You really are full of surprises."

She smiled. Tight. Focused. "You have no idea."

They reached the Lekki house in forty minutes.

Big gate. High walls. Two guards at the entrance. Not Marcus men. Hired. Nervous.

Mila slowed the car.

Darian rolled down the window.

"Tell Marcus Darian Grey is here," he called.

One guard spoke into a radio.

Gate opened slow.

They drove in.

Compound quiet. Too quiet.

Marcus stood on the front steps. Bella beside him. Amila in her arms.

The boy saw Darian. Reached out. "Dada!"

Darian stepped out of the car.

Marcus smiled. Thin. Cold.

"Thought you were dead," he said.

"Disappointed?" Darian asked.

"A little."

Bella looked pale. Eyes red. "I just wanted to see him."

"You took him," Darian said. Voice flat.

"He is my son too."

"He is mine."

Marcus stepped forward. "Let us talk like adults."

"No talk," Darian said. "Give me my boy."

Marcus laughed. "Or what? You bleed out on my driveway?"

Darian looked at Mila.

She stepped out too. Gun already in hand.

Marcus eyes narrowed. "You."

Mila smiled. Small. Dangerous. "Miss me?"

"You were supposed to report."

"I quit."

Marcus looked between them. Then at Bella.

"You knew?" he asked her.

Bella shook her head. "No."

"Liar," Marcus said.

He pulled his own gun. Pointed at Bella.

Amila started crying.

Darian moved.

Marcus swung the gun toward him.

Mila fired first.

Marcus dropped. Clean shot. Center chest.

The guards raised weapons.

Darian fired twice. Both down.

Bella screamed. Dropped to her knees. Amila slipped from her arms.

Darian ran forward. Scooped his son up. Held him tight.

Amila buried his face in Darian neck. Sobbing.

Mila walked over. Kicked Marcus gun away. Checked his pulse. Nothing.

She looked at Bella.

Bella stared at the body. Then at Mila.

"You killed him," she whispered.

"He would have killed all of us," Mila said.

Bella looked at Darian. "You win."

"No one wins today," Darian said.

He carried Amila to the car.

Mila followed.

Bella stayed on the ground. Staring at nothing.

They drove away.

Amila fell asleep against Darian chest in the back seat.

Mila drove. Quiet.

After a long time Darian spoke.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "Are you?"

"No. But I have him. And you."

She reached back. Squeezed his hand.

They drove toward the city.

New life waited.

Messy. Bloody. Uncertain.

But together.

That was enough.

For now.

The drive back to the city felt longer than it should have. Amila slept the whole way curled against Darian chest in the back seat. His small hand fisted in his father shirt. Mila kept glancing in the rearview mirror every few minutes. Checking on them both. Darian caught her eyes once. Held the look. Something unspoken passed between them. Heavy. Electric.

They did not speak much.

When they reached the penthouse the sun had already dipped low. Orange light poured through the windows and painted everything warm. Mila parked in the private garage. Darian carried Amila upstairs. The boy stirred only once. Murmured something about MiMi. Then settled again.

Inside the apartment everything looked the same. Yet nothing felt the same.

Mila locked the door behind them. Double checked the bolts. Then the security system. Green lights blinked. Safe. For now.

Darian took Amila straight to the nursery. Laid him in the crib. Pulled the thin blanket over him. Stood there watching his son breathe. Chest rising. Falling. Peaceful. After everything that happened today the sight almost broke him.

He felt Mila come up behind him. Quiet steps. She stopped at the doorway. Did not enter. Just watched with him.

After a long minute Darian turned.

Their eyes met.

He walked toward her. Slow. Deliberate.

She did not move back.

When he reached her he lifted one hand. Touched her face. Same way he had in that small house earlier. But this time there was no hesitation. No wound pulling him back. Just need.

Mila closed her eyes for a second. Leaned into his palm.

Then she opened them again. Dark. Wanting.

Darian leaned down. Kissed her.

This kiss was not soft like before. It was hungry. Urgent. All the fear and adrenaline and relief of the day poured into it. Her hands came up. Gripped his shirt. Pulled him closer. He backed her against the wall outside the nursery door. Careful not to wake the boy.

Their mouths moved together. Tongues sliding. Teeth grazing. She made a small sound in her throat. Low. Needy. It went straight through him.

He broke the kiss just enough to speak against her lips.

"Bedroom," he said. Voice rough.

She nodded.

They moved down the hallway. Hands everywhere. His on her waist. Hers sliding under his shirt. Feeling skin. Scars. Muscle. She traced the fresh bandage on his side. Gentle. Then harder. Like she needed to remind herself he was still here. Still alive.

Inside the master bedroom he kicked the door shut. Locked it. Dimmed the lights with one hand while the other stayed tangled in her hair.

Mila pulled his shirt over his head. Careful around the wound. Then her own top. Simple white bra underneath. Nothing fancy. But the way it cupped her made his mouth go dry.

He reached behind her. Unhooked it with one flick. Let it fall.

Her breasts spilled free. Full. Soft. Dark n*****s already tight.

Darian groaned low in his throat. Cupped them. Thumbs brushing over the peaks. She arched into his touch. Head falling back.

He bent. Took one n****e into his mouth. Sucked. Tongue swirling. She gasped. Fingers digging into his shoulders.

The other hand slid down her stomach. Undid the button on her jeans. Slipped inside. Found lace. Then heat. Wetness.

She was soaked already.

He growled against her skin.

"You want this," he said. Not a question.

"Yes," she breathed.

He pushed her jeans down her hips. She kicked them off. Stood there in only black lace panties. Skin glowing in the low light.

Darian stepped back. Looked at her. Really looked.

Beautiful did not cover it.

He pulled her to the bed. Sat on the edge. Pulled her between his legs.

She stood there. Hands on his shoulders. Looking down at him.

He hooked fingers in the waistband of her panties. Slowly dragged them down. Inch by inch. Revealing smooth skin. The neat triangle of curls. Then her s*x. Already glistening.

He leaned forward. Pressed a kiss to her lower stomach. Then lower. Nuzzled the soft skin just above her mound.

Mila trembled.

He looked up. Held her gaze.

Then he spread her with his thumbs. Opened her. Pink. Wet. Perfect.

He licked her in one long slow stroke.

She cried out. Soft. Sharp.

He did it again. Flatter tongue this time. Covering more. Tasting her. Sweet. Salty. Addictive.

Her knees buckled a little. He caught her hips. Held her steady while he devoured her.

Tongue circling her c**t. Flicking. Then sucking gently.

She moaned louder. Fingers in his hair. Pulling.

He slipped one finger inside her. Tight. Hot. Wet. Curled it. Found that spot.

She jerked. Gasped his name.

He added another finger. Pumped slow. Tongue still working her c**t.

Her thighs started shaking.

"Darian," she whispered. "I am going to..."

He sucked harder.

She came apart. Hard. Fast. Body bowing. Cry muffled against her own arm so she would not wake the baby.

He kept going. Gentle now. Lapping through the aftershocks until she pushed weakly at his head.

Too much.

He pulled back. Lips shiny. Eyes dark.

She looked wrecked already. Cheeks flushed. Chest heaving.

He stood. Kissed her. Let her taste herself on his tongue.

She moaned into his mouth.

Her hands went to his belt. Undid it fast. Shoved his pants down. Boxers followed.

His c**k sprang free. Hard. Thick. Veined. Tip already leaking.

Mila wrapped her hand around him. Stroked once. Twice.

He hissed.

She dropped to her knees.

Looked up at him. Eyes wicked now.

Then took him into her mouth.

Darian groaned. Loud. Hand fisting in her hair.

Warm. Wet. Perfect.

She sucked him deep. Tongue swirling around the head. Then down again. Taking more each time.

He watched her. The way her lips stretched around him. The way her cheeks hollowed. The way she looked up at him like she wanted to ruin him.

He let her for a minute. Two. Then pulled her off with a wet pop.

"Enough," he said. Voice strained. "I want inside you."

She stood. Kissed him again. Hard.

He turned her. Bent her over the edge of the bed. Hands on the mattress.

She arched her back. Presented herself.

He stepped behind her. Rubbed the head of his c**k through her folds. Coating himself in her wetness.

Then pushed in.

Slow at first.

She was tight. So tight.

They both groaned.

He sank deeper. Inch by inch. Until he was buried to the hilt.

She whimpered. Pushed back against him.

He held still. Let her adjust.

Then he started moving.

Slow thrusts. Deep. Controlled.

She moaned with every stroke.

He leaned over her. Chest to her back. One hand sliding around to find her c**t. Rubbed in slow circles.

The other hand cupped her breast. Pinched the n****e.

She started pushing back harder. Meeting every thrust.

Faster now.

Harder.

Skin slapping against skin.

Bed creaking.

Her moans growing louder.

He kissed her neck. Bit gently.

"Come for me again," he growled in her ear.

She reached back. Grabbed his hip. Pulled him deeper.

He pounded into her. Relentless.

She shattered a second time. Walls fluttering around him. Squeezing tight.

He followed right after. Buried deep. Cuming hard. Groaning her name against her shoulder.

They stayed like that for long seconds. Breathing ragged. Bodies slick with sweat.

Then he pulled out slow. Turned her. Kissed her soft this time.

She smiled against his mouth. Sleepy. Satisfied.

He lifted her. Carried her to the bathroom.

Ran warm water in the huge tub.

They sank in together. Her back to his chest. His arms around her.

Water lapped at their skin.

Quiet.

Peaceful.

After a while she spoke.

"You know this changes everything," she said softly.

He kissed her temple.

"I know."

"You still trust me? After everything I told you?"

He tightened his arms.

"I trust the woman who saved my life. Who protected my son. Who just gave herself to me like that."

She turned her head. Kissed him slow.

"Good," she whispered. "Because I am not going anywhere."

He smiled. Small. Real.

"Neither am I."

They stayed in the tub until the water cooled.

Then dried off. Climbed into bed naked.

She curled against him. Head on his chest. Leg thrown over his.

He stroked her back. Lazy circles.

Amila would wake soon. Hungry. Needing them.

But for now it was just this.

Them.

Together.

Safe.

He kissed the top of her head.

"Tomorrow we figure out the rest," he said.

She nodded. Already half asleep.

"Tomorrow."

He closed his eyes.

For the first time in years sleep came easy.

No nightmares.

No shadows.

Just her warmth.

And the steady beat of her heart against his.