THE BILLIONAIRE'S NANNY

EPISODE 1: 48 HOURS AND $43 The eviction notice was stuck to my door with yellow tape. FINAL NOTICE. VACATE IN 48 HOURS. My hands were shaking when I tore it down. Behind me, Lily was on the floor watching Peppa Pig. The TV we were also 2 months behind on. “Mama, why are you sad?” she asked. She’s only 3 but she sees everything. I forced a smile. “Mama is not sad baby. Mama is thinking.” I checked my bank app. $43.17. Rent was $1200. We owed $2400. Landlord said 48 hours or he changes the lock. My phone buzzed on the cracked table. Unknown number. “Hello?” “Is this Amara Collins?” The woman’s voice was sharp. “This is Bello Enterprises. Mr. Adrian Bello needs a live-in nanny. Urgently. The pay is $4000 a month. Room and board included. Can you come for an interview today at 3 PM?” $4000. I almost dropped the phone. “Yes. Yes I can.” She gave me an address in the Hills. The place with gates and mansions and cars I only see on t****k. I begged Mrs. Adebayo next door for bus fare. I put Lily’s hair in two neat puffs and wore my only black dress. The one I wore to job interviews and funerals. “Mama, where are we going?” Lily asked on the bus. “To get us a new house, baby. And ice cream.” The Bello estate had a fountain in front. A guard opened the gate and looked at us like we didn’t belong. The woman who opened the door was in her 50s. Blazer. Clipboard. She looked expensive. “You must be Amara. I’m Mrs. Hayes, the estate manager. Come in.” The house was too quiet. Like a library. White floors. Big paintings. It smelled like money. “She’s in the playroom,” Mrs. Hayes whispered. “Mr. Bello will see you after.” The playroom was bigger than my whole apartment. There was a dollhouse, a slide, a toy kitchen. And in the middle of it all, on the floor, was a little girl. She had black braids that were starting to come undone. Pink pajamas at 3 PM. She was building a tower with blocks. Build it. Knock it down. Build it again. She didn’t look up when we entered. “Sofia?” Mrs. Hayes said softly. “This is Amara. She’s here to meet you.” Nothing. Lily squeezed my hand. “Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Lily.” Still nothing. Mrs. Hayes sighed. “She’s four. She hasn’t spoken in six months. Not since her mother left. The last three nannies quit after two weeks.” I stared at Sofia. The way she knocked the tower down was angry. Tired. Something in my chest twisted. “I’ll take the job,” I said. “When do I start?” Mrs. Hayes blinked. “You haven’t met Mr. Bello yet.” “I don’t need to.” That was a lie. But I needed the money more. “Today then. If you’re sure.” At 3:15 PM, the front door opened and closed hard. Mr. Adrian Bello walked in. And wow. Tall. Black suit. White shirt with sleeves rolled up. Dark hair messy like he ran his hands through it all day. Stubble on his jaw. Dark circles under his eyes. But the worst part was his face. He looked angry. And exhausted. “Who are you?” he asked me. His voice was low. Cold. “Amara Collins. The new nanny.” His eyes flicked to Lily behind me, then back to me. “You have nanny experience?” “I... I took care of my nieces and cousins. But not professionally.” “Then why are you here?” The truth came out before I could stop it. “Because you’re paying $4000 a month and I have $43 in my account and an eviction notice.” His jaw tightened. For a second I thought he’d throw me out. Then he looked past me. At Sofia. And his whole face changed. The anger was still there but under it was pain. Deep pain. “Sofia,” he said. Softer. “Baby.” She didn’t react. Just kept building. He turned back to me. “Rules. One: You don’t post about us online. Not her, not this house, not me. Two: You don’t ask questions about my wife. Three: If you can’t handle her, you leave. Immediately. No notice.” “I understand.” “$4000 a month. Direct deposit. Your room is on the second floor. You start now.” Mrs. Hayes showed us upstairs. The room they gave me had a bed bigger than my old living room. Private bathroom. And a small bed in the corner for Lily. Lily was running around touching everything. “Mama! It’s so pretty!” I sat on the bed and cried for five minutes. Quietly. Then I wiped my face and went downstairs. Sofia was still in the playroom. Still building. Still destroying. I sat on the floor a few feet away. Not too close. “Hi Sofia,” I said. “I’m Amara. This is Lily.” Lily waved. “Hi!” Sofia ignored us. An hour passed. Mrs. Hayes brought dinner on a tray. Chicken, rice, and vegetables. I set a plate near Sofia. “You don’t have to talk to me,” I said. “But your body needs food, okay?” She didn’t touch it. At 8 PM, Mr. Bello came downstairs. He looked at the untouched plate. At me. At Sofia. “She didn’t eat,” I said quietly. “I know.” He walked to Sofia and knelt down. “Sofia, baby. Please eat for Daddy.” Nothing. She didn’t even look at him. He stood up. His hands were in fists. “You can go to your room,” he told me. “Come back at 7 AM.” “But I live here now—” “Guest room. Mrs. Hayes will show you. Don’t disturb us.” He picked Sofia up. She was limp in his arms. She didn’t hug him back. And for one second, before he turned away, I saw his face crack. Like he was about to break. --- That night I lay in a bed that was too soft and stared at the ceiling. Lily was asleep next to me, drooling on the pillow. I had a job. A roof. $4000 coming. But the little girl down the hall wasn’t eating. Wasn’t talking. And her dad looked like he hadn’t slept in months. Rule 1: Don’t get attached. I was already breaking it. At 2 AM I heard it. A small sound. Like crying. I got up and walked down the hall. Sofia’s door was cracked open. She was sitting up in bed, holding a stuffed rabbit, crying silently. No sound. Just tears running down her face. Mr. Bello was sitting on the floor next to her bed. His head in his hands. “Sofia,” he whispered. “Please talk to me. Please baby. I’m begging you.” She didn’t. I backed away and closed the door. 48 hours ago I was about to be homeless. Now I was in a mansion, with a job, watching a broken billionaire try to save his daughter. But tomorrow morning, Mr. Bello stopped me in the hallway. His eyes were red. “One task,” he said. “Make her eat breakfast. If she doesn’t eat by 9am, you’re fired.” And Sofia hasn’t eaten in 2 days. [END OF EPISODE 1] What should Amara cook for Sofia to make her eat? Comment! 👇 # Stary Writing Marathon #Contemporary #Billionaire #SingleMom #Nanny #Kids #FoundFamily