Ex-Convict Nanny and the Billionaire Single Dad

Grace White’s POV The air inside the county jail always smelled like sour bleach and old sweat. It was a horrible smell that clung to the back of my throat. It never went away. It was a constant reminder that I was no longer a person. I was just a number. I sat on the edge of the thin, plastic-covered mattress. My hands rested heavily on the massive curve of my stomach. My baby was kicking violently today. The hard thrusts against my ribs made it difficult to breathe. I was nine months pregnant, swollen, and terrified out of my mind. "White! You've got a visitor," the guard barked. The heavy keys clanked loudly against the iron bars of my cell. My heart leaped into my throat. Mark. It had to be Mark. He had finally done it. He had finally talked to the lawyers and cleared up the massive financial mess at the accounting firm. He must have realized that I had nothing to do with the missing two million dollars. I was just a junior accountant. I didn't even have access to the master codes. "Thank you," I whispered. I pushed myself up from the low bed with a soft groan. I walked down the cold concrete corridor. I held my belly tightly with both hands. I wanted to shield my unborn child from the gray, depressing walls around us. When I entered the visiting room, my eyes immediately scanned the glass partitions. There he was. Mark Baker. My fiancé. He was wearing his expensive, tailored gray suit. He looked every bit the successful executive I had fallen in love with. But he wasn't alone. Sitting right next to him was my cousin, Chloe. She wore a designer trench coat. She had a smirk on her face that chilled me to the bone. I sat down on the uncomfortable metal stool. My brow furrowed in confusion. I picked up the heavy plastic phone receiver. Mark did the same on the other side of the glass. "Mark, thank God," I breathed. My voice trembled terribly. Tears immediately blurred my vision. "The lawyers... did they find the real transactions? Have they cleared my name? The guards said the trial is moving fast, Mark. I can't have this baby in here. Please tell me you’re getting me out today." Mark did not look worried. He did not look sad either. Instead, a slow, mocking smile spread across his handsome face. He leaned closer to the glass partition. "Get you out, Grace? Why would I do that?" His voice came through the receiver. It was smooth and entirely devoid of love. "You're exactly where you belong." The words hit me like a physical blow to the chest. The air rushed completely out of my lungs. "What... what are you talking about?" I stammered. Chloe leaned into the frame. She grabbed Mark’s arm and rested her manicured hand over his expensive watch. She picked up the extra receiver on her side. Her eyes gleamed with absolute malice. "Oh, Gracie. You always were so painfully naive," Chloe giggled. The sound made my stomach turn. "Did you really think a man like Mark would actually marry a boring, plain little accountant like you?" Chloe continued. "You were just convenient. Your clean record and your access to the firm's lower servers were exactly what we needed." "You..." My gaze darted between the two of them. My mind was spinning into a dark, chaotic panic. "The embezzlement. It was you two?" "Bingo," Mark sneered. "We needed a fall guy, Grace. Or a fall girl, in your case. The paper trail points directly to your computer terminal. It has your digital signature and leads to your personal bank account. By the time the auditors finish, you’ll be looking at a solid three to five years. Meanwhile, Chloe and I are moving into that beautiful penthouse downtown. With your money." "Mark, no!" I screamed. I slammed my open palm against the reinforced glass. The guard at the door shifted weight. He gave me a warning glare, but I did not care ."I am pregnant with your child!" I sobbed, the pain ripping through my chest. "How could you do this to your own baby?!" Mark’s laughter was loud and sharp. It echoed painfully through the small receiver. "My child?" Mark raised an eyebrow. He looked at me with pure disgust. "Grace, we haven't slept in the same bed in over four months. Do you think I'm stupid? I don't know whose bastard you're carrying, but it certainly isn't mine." My breath hitched. My mind flashed back to nine months ago. It was the night Mark had brutally broken up with me via a short text message. He had left me crying all alone at a high-end hotel bar. I had gotten completely wasted that night to numb the pain. A man had sat next to me. He was a man with dark, mesmerizing eyes, a jawline cut from granite, and a commanding aura. We had shared an explosive, nameless, passionate night in the penthouse suite upstairs. The next morning, I had panicked and fled before he even woke up. Two days later, Mark had crawled back to me. He apologized and begged for forgiveness. I took him back out of fear and guilt. Soon after, I found out I was pregnant. I had assumed, prayed, and convinced myself it was Mark’s baby. But looking at the timeline now, the truth stared me in the face. The baby was not Mark's. It belonged to the wealthy stranger whose face I could barely remember through the fog of alcohol and time. "You're a monster," I whispered. Large, hot tears spilled over my cheeks. "You framed me. Both of you." "Think of it as a charity donation to our future, cousin," Chloe smiled. She blew a mock kiss through the glass. "Have a nice life in prison, Grace. Don't worry, we won't visit again." Mark hung up the receiver. He stood up and wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist. They turned their backs on me. They walked out of the visiting room without a single backward glance ."No! Mark! Chloe! Come back!" I screamed. I dropped the phone. It dangled against the metal wall, clattering loudly. Suddenly, a sharp, blinding pain ripped through my lower abdomen. It was so intense that it brought me straight to my knees on the cold concrete floor. I gasped for air. I clutched my stomach as a warm rush of fluid soaked through my coarse, orange prison uniform. My water had broken. "Guard!" I choked out. I gasped as another wave of agonizing pain squeezed my torso. "The baby... help me... the baby is coming!" The world became a blur of shouting and rough hands lifting me onto a gurney. I heard the screeching sound of metal doors opening and closing. They wheeled me into the stark, sterile prison infirmary. There were no comforting lights here. There were no supportive family members. My fiancé was not there to hold my hand. There was only an old, bitter-looking nurse and a doctor who did not even bother to look me in the eye. "Push, inmate! Push!" the doctor ordered coldly. I screamed. Tears streamed down my temples and into my hair. I fought through the agony completely alone. I was driven only by the desperate, fierce urge to protect the innocent life inside me. After what felt like hours of pure torture, one final, agonizing push relieved the immense pressure. I braced myself. I waited to hear the sweet, piercing cry of my newborn baby. Silence. The room was completely quiet. I blinked through my sweat and tears. I tried to see over my knees. The nurse was holding a small bundle. Her back was turned to me. She was whispering to someone at the clinic door. It was an older woman wearing a high-end, expensive tailored suit. I could not see her face clearly from my angle. I saw money change hands. A heavy envelope was slipped into the nurse's apron pocket. "Where is my baby?" I croaked. My throat was completely raw from screaming. "Let me see her. Please. Let me hold my baby." The nurse turned around slowly. Her face was completely void of emotion. The small bundle was gone. "Calm down, inmate," the nurse said. Her voice was flat and rehearsed. "There was a severe complication. The infant was born with multiple internal defects. It didn't survive." The words pierced my heart like a dagger. "No..." I thrashed against the leather restraints on the bed. "No! You're lying! I heard a heartbeat yesterday! Let me see her! Give me my baby!" "Sedate her," the doctor muttered. He did not look up as he wrote on a clipboard. A sharp prick in my arm followed. Within seconds, a heavy, dark cloud began to pull me under. My vision faded. The cold white lights of the infirmary spun away into nothingness. The last thing I felt before losing consciousness was the devastating, hollow ache in my chest. My baby was gone. My life was completely over. On the exact same night, across the city, the top floor of the massive Hills Cooperation skyscraper was fully illuminated. Alex Hills sat behind his massive mahogany desk. He loosened his silk tie with a sigh. He was drop-dead gorgeous, with sharp, striking features, dark hair, and an aura of absolute power. He was the richest man in the city. Everyone knew him as a cold, ruthless machine who never let emotion dictate his actions. Except for tonight. He could not stop thinking about that night nine months ago. He remembered the mysterious woman with the soft, terrified eyes at the hotel bar. They had shared a night of intense, earth-shattering passion. But she had vanished before dawn. She left nothing behind but her lingering scent on his sheets. He had searched for her ever since. The heavy glass door to his office opened. His personal assistant, Sam, walked in looking completely exhausted. "Sir," Sam spoke quietly. He held a thin manila folder in his hand. "I have the latest reports from the private investigators." Alex raised his sharp eyes. A flicker of rare hope burned in his chest. "Did they find her? Did they find the woman from the hotel?" Sam swallowed hard. He looked down at the floor. "No, Mr. Hills. The security footage from that night was corrupted. The credit card she used at the bar belonged to a closed account under a false name. We've exhausted every lead in the city. There is simply no trace of her." Alex slammed his fist onto the desk. The glass coffee mug rattled loudly. "I don't care what it takes, Sam!" Alex growled. "Hire more men. Double the budget. A human being does not simply vanish into thin air!" "I understand, sir," Sam said quickly. He bowed his head. "I will keep the search active." As Sam exited the office, Alex leaned back in his leather chair. He rubbed his temples. He felt a strange, unexplained ache in his chest. It was an overwhelming pull that he could not put into words. It felt as if a piece of his own soul was crying out for help somewhere in the dark city. And he was completely powerless to stop it.