His Nanny, His Unplanned Love

Chapter 10

POV: Naomi

I closed the door softly behind me with a click, careful not to make any noise in the hallway.

I didn’t stop walking.

Not until I got to the room Tristan had described to me earlier.

Second door on the right.

I pushed it open slowly and stepped inside.

And for a moment… I just stood there.

The room was big.

No, no. Big was an understatement.

It was huge.

Not ridiculously huge like the rest of the mansion, but still… bigger than my entire apartment.

There was a wide bed in the center, covered in soft white sheets that looked like they had never been slept in. The mattress alone looked like it could swallow me whole if I lay on it.

It's not like I planned to use all that space on the bed anyway.

A small couch sat by the window, and the curtains were light and clean, letting in just enough sunlight to brighten the room without making it too warm.

The bathroom door stood slightly open, and from where I stood, I could already tell it was spacious.

Everything about the room screamed comfort.

And money.

I slowly walked further inside and sat down on the bed.

The mattress dipped softly under my weight.

I placed both hands beside me and patted the bed lightly.

Once.

Twice.

Then I let out a long breath.

“Well…” I muttered quietly. “Thank God I don’t have to pay for this room.”

Because if I did?

Yeah… I’d be homeless.

And I wasn't even joking.

A small smile touched my lips before disappearing just as quickly.

I nodded to myself and stood up.

“I’ll arrange my things later,” I murmured.

Right now… I needed to do something else.

I needed to find Sophie.

The hallway was quiet when I stepped out again.

My eyes moved across the doors lined neatly along the corridor.

Which one was hers?

I didn’t know.

So I did the only thing that made sense.

I walked to the door directly opposite mine and pushed it open.

And instantly—

I was greeted by a princess themed room.

Yeah.

I found it.

It looked like a real Barbie princess room.

That was the only way to describe it.

A large bed sat in the middle, the frame shaped like a swan, painted in a soft blue color that somehow still felt playful.

Pink cushions rested near the window, and the entire room was filled with toys.

Dolls everywhere.

On the floor.

On the shelves.

Even on the bed.

I stepped inside slowly, taking it all in.

“Well… this is definitely your room, Ginger,” I murmured.

But…

She wasn’t there.

I frowned slightly.

“Sophie?” I called out softly. “Ginger, where are you?”

No response.

My eyes scanned the room again.

Then they landed on the bed.

The blanket.

There was a small bump under it.

I almost smiled.

I walked toward it slowly, making sure my footsteps were quiet.

“Oh my God…” I said loudly, pretending to look around. “I can’t seem to find Sophie anywhere.”

I paused dramatically.

“Maybe I should just eat the sweets I brought along instead—”

“BOO!”

The blanket flew off.

And Sophie popped up with a wide grin on her face.

I gasped and took a small step back.

“There you are!” I said, placing a hand on my chest. “You scared me!”

She burst into laughter.

“I know!” she said proudly. “I’ve been hiding here since you told me to come upstairs!”

I shook my head, smiling.

“You did well, Ginger.”

Her smile grew even wider.

Then suddenly, her expression changed.

“I’m hungry.”

I blinked.

“You haven’t had breakfast yet?”

She shook her head.

I glanced at the clock on the wall.

The time was 10 AM.

My brows came together in a frown.

“It’s already ten. Why haven’t you eaten?”

She smiled again, showing off the small gap in her teeth.

“I told Daddy I’ll wait until you come before I eat.”

I stared at her for a second.

Then sighed softly.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I saw Lucy making something earlier.”

Immediately, she jumped off the bed.

“Catch me if you can!”

And just like that—she took off running.

I laughed.

“You better run, Ginger! I’m coming to get you!”

I chased after her, but not too fast.

Just enough to make her think she was winning.

Her tiny legs carried her ahead of me, her laughter the only sound in the hallway.

And for a moment… It felt light.

Simple.

By the time we reached the kitchen, she was already giggling breathlessly.

I helped her climb onto one of the chairs.

Then I turned to Lucy.

“Hey,” I said. “Sophie said she hasn’t had breakfast yet.”

Lucy nodded quickly.

“Yes, I made pancakes earlier… but she said she didn’t want pancakes. She asked for spaghetti and said she would wait for you before eating.”

I blinked once.

Then nodded slowly.

“That’s fine. Can you serve her the spaghetti?”

“Of course.”

But before Lucy could move—

“I don’t want spaghetti anymore,” Sophie said.

I turned.

“What?”

“I want pancakes now,” she said, folding her arms.

I stared at her.

For a second.

Then two.

Did she just say that?

“ But Lucy already made the spaghetti.” I said gently, trying to explain to her.

And because she asked for it.

And now—

“I don’t care,” Sophie added. “I want pancakes now and not spaghetti.”

Something inside me snapped slightly.

Not anger.

But something firm.

I stepped closer.

“Ginger,” I said calmly, “Lucy worked hard to make that food for you.”

She didn’t even look guilty.

She just sat there with her arms folded and an attitude on her person.

“I don’t care.” She repeated again.

That was it.

I turned to Lucy.

“Please serve her the spaghetti.”

Lucy hesitated for a second, then nodded and placed the food on a plate.

She set it in front of Sophie.

But Sophie didn’t touch it.

Instead, she crossed her arms tighter and

pushed her lips out.

“I said I don’t want it. I want pancakes.” She yelled.

I raised a brow.

“Stop the attitude,” I said firmly. “And eat your food.”

“No,” she said. “I want pancakes.”

I let out a breath…slowly.

“I’m not playing right now, Sophie. Eat your breakfast.”

“No!”

Before I could react—

She grabbed the plate.

And threw it.

The plate flew across the kitchen and shattered near Lucy.

Spaghetti splattered across the floor.

Lucy froze in the corner where she was standing, her face pale.

Sophie jumped down from the chair and dropped to the floor.

“Ahhh—!” she screamed. “No! No! No! I don’t want to!”

I looked at the mess.

Then at Lucy.

Then back at Sophie.

And just as I crouched down to her level—

I heard footsteps.

Fast.

Heavy.

But I didn’t look up.

I didn’t need to.

I already knew who it was.

My eyes stayed on Sophie.

“That was not a nice thing to do,” I said firmly.

Her crying got louder.

“You could have hurt Lucy,” I continued. “And now you’re the one crying?”

“What the hell is going on here?”

That was Tristan.

I didn’t look at him.

Not yet.

“Stop crying,” I said.

Her sobs slowly began to quiet.

“You’re going to apologize to Lucy.”

She shook her head.

“No…”

Before I could continue—

Tristan stepped forward and lifted her into his arms.

My jaw tightened slightly.

“Why are you asking my daughter to apologize to the cook?” he asked.

I stood up slowly.

“Sophie threw a plate at Lucy, Who happens to be someone's daughter too,” I said calmly. “After being rude to her.”

He frowned.

“Then why was she crying?”

“Because she didn’t get her way.”

“She’s a child.”

I raised a brow.

“So she should be the one getting an apology?” I asked.

“Yes.” He yelled a little.

I turned and walked over to Conner who was still standing at the doorway, watching everything unfold.

“Conner. Give me your phone.”

He blinked.

“No. Why?”

Then I hit his arm as hard as I could.

“Ouch!”

Then I immediately began to cry.

A fake cry, though.

“Apologize to me now!”

He stared at me like I had lost my mind.

“What kind of gaslighting nonsense is that?”

I turned back to Tristan.

“Exactly.”

Silence.

“You don’t expect Lucy to apologize when she’s the one who was wronged.”

Tristan didn’t respond immediately.

“She’s just a child,” he repeated.

“And she knows right from wrong,” I said.

Then I looked at Sophie. “Don’t you?”

She hesitated.

Then nodded.

“Good,” I said. “Now what’s the right thing to do?”

She turned slowly toward Lucy.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” she said quietly. “I won’t do it again.”

A small smile appeared on my lips.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

She looked at me and nodded.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you too…”

“It’s okay, Ginger.” I said softly.

Behind us, Conner started laughing.

“That was one hell of a show. You just made this little fireball admit she was wrong and also apologize” he said.

But I ignored him.

“She has to learn that not everything will go her way,” I said calmly.

Tristan looked at me.

“Just take it easy,” he said. “I don’t want my child crying like that.”

“She chose to cry. It's not like anyone touched her,” I replied.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Just be careful how you talk to her next time.”

I raised my hand in a surrender position.

“I’m not against that whole gentle act with a child,” I said. “But when she’s wrong, I will correct her.”

He raised his hand, cutting me off.

“Fine.”

Then he turned to leave—

“Daddy.”

He stopped walking.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I want to stay with Naomi… and eat spaghetti.”

I stepped forward immediately.

“Come here, Ginger.”

She reached for me.

And I took her.

Tristan just stood there.

Watching.

With his mouth open.

I placed Sophie back on the chair.

“Spaghetti it is,” I said to Lucy with a smile.

She nodded.

I turned to them.

“If you’ll excuse us… we’re about to have breakfast.”

Conner smirked.

“We’ll leave you to it.”

“Bye Daddy! Bye Uncle Conner!”

And then they left.

Lucy served the food quietly.

“Why don't you get a plate for yourself,” I told her.

She shook her head.

“Thank you but I already ate.”

I nodded.

Then watched Sophie eat.

Quietly.

Slowly.

Humming a sound as she enjoyed her food.

I let out a breath.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But I wasn’t going to sit back and watch her grow into a spoiled brat.

Not on my watch.

Not even if it cost me this job.

As Sophie continued eating, my eyes drifted toward the kitchen door.

Something felt… off.

Like I was being watched.

But maybe it was paranoia.

After all, I was in a new place and I still had not yet settled in.

But I felt it.

That same quiet voice in my head again.

Careful, Naomi.

Because this house…

This family…

Was going to test me in ways I wasn’t ready for.

And I had a feeling—

This was only the beginning.