8
Emilia’s POV.
It was very quiet morning as I took care of Francesca, a peaceful kind of silence that I didn’t often experience in this house. She was babbling on the living room rug, caught up in her own little world with her toys spread out in front of her. Her tiny fingers reached for blocks, stacking them with a level of concentration I couldn’t help but smile at. Moments like these were rare, and as her nanny, I’d come to savor each one.
I leaned forward to help her with stacking the bloks, but then a sharp voice – Alaric’s voice – cut through the silence. I tensed at the roughness in his fone. I didn’t know who he was talking to but the way his words bounced off the walls, sharp and intense, made it clear that he was anything but pleased.
“…I’ve told you before, I don’t want ex
