CHAPTER |7
1126 Words
Aiden's POV
The moment Amarahh stepped out of Ava’s room, I waited until she was fully in the hallway before speaking again.
"Close the door."
She looked back once, then gently pulled the door shut behind her, so the children would not wake.
The soft click of the lock left only the hallway light and the quiet breathing of the house.
I moved a little farther down the corridor and stopped near the long console table placed against the wall. I rested my back against it and folded my arms.
She stayed where she was at first, her head lowered, hands joined in front of her. For a moment, I said nothing. I only looked at her.
The silence gave me too much room to notice details I had not allowed myself to notice before.
Her hair was tied back loosely, but some strands had escaped around her face. She looked tired, probably from the long day with the children, but there was still something calm about her face even after everything that had happened earlier.
She was beautiful, the thought came too quickly. Too naturally and immediately I disliked myself for noticing it.
I looked away for a second and straightened my jaw. What exactly was I thinking?
She worked here, nothing more.
And I had more important things to worry about than the face of a nanny standing in my hallway.
When I looked back at her, she still had her head lowered, which somehow irritated me more.
"Look at me when I am speaking to you."
She lifted her face slowly, her eyes met mine carefully, like she was already expecting trouble.
Good.
Because trouble was exactly what I intended.
"What do you want?" I asked coldly.
Her brows pulled slightly together. "Sir?"
"What is your true motive here?"
The confusion in her eyes looked real, but I did not trust easily anymore, especially not after everything life had taught me.
She stayed quiet so I continued.
"I have eyes, Amarahh. I notice things."
Her lips parted, but she still did not interrupt.
"I notice how quickly my children have become comfortable around you."
That finally made her speak. "They are children, sir."
"I know they are children."
My voice sharpened. "And that is exactly why I am asking what your intention is."
She looked stunned. Now I pushed forward because once the words had started, they would not stop.
"You came into this house three days ago."
"Yes."
"And Liam already speaks for you. Ava listens to you. Ava ate food because of you tonight. Liam sat in the kitchen because of you. Do you know how unusual that is?"
She answered softly. "I did not force anything."
I ignored that.
"You have been trying to win them over."
Her expression changed a little. "I was only doing my work."
"Your work does not require emotional attachment."
That made her eyes sharpen slightly. I noticed it for the first time since this conversation began. She did not look only nervous.
She looked offended.
Still, I continued because anger had already taken over.
"If you are trying to make yourself important here for some hidden reason, stop now."
"There is no hidden reason."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I am not asking you to believe anything."
That answer annoyed me. My voice dropped lower.
"Then listen carefully. If you ever break my children's hearts, if you ever make them trust you and then hurt them, I will make sure you regret stepping into this house."
She stared at me without blinking. I added the cruelest part before I could stop myself.
"I will feed your brains to the birds."
The hallway became very quiet even after saying it, I heard how harsh it sounded. But I did not take it back. Amarahh nodded just once, a small controlled movement.
"Understood."
She turned as if to leave for one second. I thought the conversation was over, then she stopped. Her hand stayed near the door handle, but she did not open it and her back remained turned to me.
When she spoke again, her voice had changed, still respectful but no longer weak.
"I know I am not perfect."
I frowned slightly, and she slowly turned back, her eyes no longer lowered.
"I know I may even look suspicious to you."
She took one step toward me. "But there is one thing I will never accept quietly."
I stayed silent, her voice shook, but she continued.
"I might be many things, sir. I may have made mistakes in life. I may have failed in ways you cannot imagine."
Her throat moved before she continued. "But I would never use a child."
The words landed harder than I expected. She looks directly at me now.
"I know what pain looks like. I know what loneliness looks like. I know what it means when children stop trusting adults."
Something about the way she said it made me listen differently. Her voice was still low, but now every word felt personal.
"I did not ask your son to defend me."
She pointed lightly toward Liam's room. "I did not ask your daughter to speak for me."
Then toward Ava's door. "I only answered when they spoke."
Her breathing became uneven. "I thanked Ava because she helped me when you wanted me gone."
The guilt began then, quietly, but she was not finished."I cooked because she asked for soup."
Her voice rose slightly. "I sat with them because they wanted company."
She swallowed hard. "And tonight I stayed because your daughter wanted someone near her while she slept."
I said nothing for once, there was nothing immediate to say.
She gave a bitter laugh, very short." You think I am trying to manipulate them?"
She shook her head. "No."
Her eyes glistened now. "I know terrible people, sir."
That line stayed with me.
"I know what terrible people do."
Something unreadable crossed her face, but she did not explain. "I may not deserve your trust yet. Fine. I understand that."
Then quietly. "But do not insult me by thinking I would harm children."
Her voice nearly broke on the last sentence, but she held herself together. Then she added one final sentence that struck deeper than she probably intended.
"You should be thanking someone for making your children smile, not threatening them away from your house."
Before I could answer, she opened the door and slammed it behind her.
The sound echoed through the hallway. I remained standing there, unable to move.
For several seconds I simply stared at the closed door. No one had spoken to me like that in years, not staff or employees.
Not anyone inside this house.
Yet strangely, I was not angry.
- Writer
