His Nanny, His Obsession

Chapter 2

Celeste's pov

Zara's clear threat settled between us, sharp enough to make the back of my neck prickle.

"Did you hear me?" She demanded, turning back to Vincent when he didn't react. Her silk robe puffed out around her as she threw her hands up. "Fire her. Right now! Get this little thief out of my sight before I throw her out myself!"

My pulse was pounding so hard in my ears I could barely think. Thief?

I hadn't taken a single thing— except maybe a wrong left turn down the hallway— but standing in this enormous bedroom, surrounded by gold-trimmed furniture and expensive things I was afraid to even look at, I suddenly felt as small and guilty as though I had been caught doing something wrong.

Vincent didn't flinch, rather he reached down to adjust the silver cufflinks on his wrists, his movements effortless and completely unbothered by his wife's screeching.

The contrast between them was almost freighting. She was loud, furious and completely unrestrained, while he remained so composed that it was difficult to tell what he was thinking.

I couldn't help but wonder if they were always like this? Was this the kind of home four year old Ethan was growing up in?

When Vincent finally looked up, his eyes bypassed Zara entirely and landed right on me.

"Miss Lawson," He said calmly, as if we were meeting over afternoon tea instead of in his private bedroom with his furious wife standing between us. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

My throat had gone completely bone dry. "Mr... Mr. Acosta," I squeaked, clutching the keys so hard the metal bit into my palm.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Zara barked, looking at him as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "You're introducing yourself to her? Vincent, she was snooping around our master suite! She walked right in on you!"

"She was lost, Zara." Vincent replied simply, stepping past her as if she were nothing more than a piece of unwanted furniture.

He walked toward me, stopping just a couple of feet away. Up close, he was even more imposing than he had seemed from across the room.

He was tall, broad through the shoulders, and carried himself with a type of confidence that made the space around him feel smaller. The intoxicating scent of sandalwood followed him, as he moved in closer.

My eyes betrayingly dropped for a split second to his shirt— he'd only done up three buttons, leaving the hard line of his chest still partially bare. I forced my gaze back to his face, my cheeks burning with a heat I desperately hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Mrs. Pruitt was supposed to show her up, but it seems there was a mix-up." He added.

"I don't care about Pruitt's mix-ups!" Zara snapped, marching over and grabbing his arm as her long nails pressed hard against the sleeve of this shirt. "I want her gone. Today. I'm not having some random girl living in my house, creeping around in the dark!"

I held my breath, shrinking back an inch. Please don't fire me. Please. I needed this job. I needed this room. If they threw me out onto the street today, I had nowhere else to go.

Vincent stopped moving and his eyes lowered to Zara's hand around his arm with a sort of detachment that made my stomach tighten. There wasn't a speck of affection between them and no warmth either— just pure irritation.

"Take your hand off me." He said softly.

The quiet command carried more of a threat than if he had shouted causing Zara to let go instantly, taking an involuntary step back, though her eyes still burned with hot hatred.

"She stays." Vincent said.

"Like hell she d-does!" Zara fired back, her voice breaking with frustration. "This is my house too!"

"And Ethan is my son." Vincent countered. "He hasn't spoken a single word to a nanny in six months, Zara. Not since the last one you threw a gin glass at and chased down the driveway."

My eyes widened slightly as an uncomfortable knot formed in my stomach. Threw a gin glass? I knew wealth didn't equal sanity, but this woman sounded unhinged.

"That girl was useless!"

"The boy is lonely. He's scared," Vincent continued, completely ignoring her outburst. His eyes shifted back to mine, softening just a little, though the intensity in them still made my knees feel like water. "Miss Lawson came highly recommended. Her background check is clean, her references are good and most importantly, Ethan drew a picture for her this morning after reading her profile. He wants to meet her."

My heart gave a small and unexpected jump. Ethan drew a picture for me? Amidst all this chaotic horror, that one detail brought a strange little warmth to my chest.

I hadn't even met the boy yet, but knowing he had seen my profile and wanted to meet me made the job feel more real.

Zara let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, wonderful. My four year old son is the one making hiring decisions now? You're ridiculous, Vincent. You just want a pretty young face around to stare at!"

Pretty? The word felt like an insult coming from her.

I suddenly became painfully aware of everything about myself that had seemed perfectly normal a few minutes earlier. My scuffed sneakers. My faded jeans. My messy brown hair. Standing beside someone who lived in a house like this, I had never felt more out of place.

"Watch your mouth." Vincent warned, his voice becoming quieter rather than louder. "You don't care about Ethan. You haven't even looked at him all week. You came home at three in the morning reeking of vodka and another man's cologne, and now you want to ruin the one chance our son has at having someone decent in his life?"

Another man's cologne... that's crazy.

The accusation hung between them, that for a second, I almost forgot where I was.

My mouth almost fell open, but I forced myself to stare at the carpet. They weren't just fighting; they were actively tearing each other apart right in front of a stranger.

Zara didn't even deny it, she just rolled her eyes, her jaw tightening until a muscle leaped in her cheek.

Vincent just stood there, dominant and composed, staring her down with complete authority. He didn't look like a man who was heartbroken, but rather like a man who was utterly exhausted by her, yet entirely in control of the kingdom he ran.

Zara couldn't win this fight, and she knew it.

So her attention slowly shifted back to me. I stiffened as she as she started walking towards me until she was inches away, her breath warm and smelling of wine and stale mints.

"You think you're safe because he's protecting you?" She whispered, her voice dripping with spite as she glanced at Vincent's expressionless face, then leaned closer to my ear. "He won't fire you. Fine."

A smile slowly spread across her face, one that made every single hair on my arms stand up.

"Then I'll make you leave on her own."