His Nanny, His Obsession

Chapter 5

Celeste’s pov

The clock on my bedside table read 2:14 a.m.

I was staring up at the wooden beams of my small bedroom ceiling, my hands tucked tightly under my thin pillow, unable to sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same thing all over again: red wine running down the front of my sweater, followed by Zara’s voice cutting through me as she leaned close enough for me to feel the threat behind every word.

You looked at him in the bedroom, didn't you?

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my palms against my face. I hadn't meant to look at Vincent like that. I was twenty-three years old, an orphan living on borrowed time and hopeless prayers, and he was a wealthy, powerful man trapped in a marriage that seemed to have been falling apart for years.

Developing a foolish and hopeless crush on him was dangerous enough, but letting him see it— letting her see it— was like putting a target on my own back.

All of a sudden, a sharp scream ripped through the quiet of the estate.

"No! Daddy!"

I bolted upright in bed, my heart instantly leaping into my throat. The scream had been so high and desperate that for a second, I could only sit there and listen.

Then I heard the frightened sobbing that followed, and there was no mistaking the small voice behind it… Ethan.

Without thinking, I threw off my blanket and rushed out of my room into the dimly lit hallway. I ran bare-footed, following the sound of Ethan’s cries until I reached the nursery.

His sobs had become more panicked by the time I got there and I pushed the door open carefully, afraid that any sudden movement might frighten him further.

The room was bathed in the soft blue glow of a nightlight shaped like a crescent moon. In the center of the bed, tucked under a navy blanket covered in little stars, a tiny boy with messy dark curls was huddled into a ball, his small shoulders shaking a lot as he cried into his hands.

"Ethan?" I called out softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me. I kept my voice as quiet and soothing as possible. "Ethan, sweetie, it's okay."

He flinched, pulling the blanket over his face. "Go away!" He sobbed, his voice muffled. "don't like the dark!"

"I know, it's scary," I murmured, slowly crossing the room and sinking down onto the edge of his mattress. I kept a little distance so I wouldn't startle him. "My name is Celeste. Your dad told me you drew a wonderful picture for me today."

His crying stopped for the briefest moment and pair of wide gray eyes appeared above the blanket, wet with tears and looking so much like Vincent.

"A picture?" He sniffled, his breath hitching.

"Mhm.." I said with a gentle smile, pulling my knees up against the frame. "A picture with a big yellow sun and a little house. I loved it so much."

Ethan slowly lowered the blanket, revealing a flushed face and tear-streaked cheeks. He stared at me with curiosity, clutching a small stuffed bear to his chest. "You... you didn't go away like the other lady?"

"No," I whispered softly, reaching out slowly to smooth a lock of damp dark hair off his forehead. "I'm right here. I'm staying."

Ethan leaned into my hand, letting out a shaky sigh that broke my heart into a thousand pieces. He crawled across the mattress, his small arms wrapping tightly around my waist as he buried his face in my side.

"Celeste.." He whispered, his tiny voice barely audible against my shirt.

It was the first time he had said my name, and hearing it from him brought an unexpected rush of protectiveness through me.

I wrapped my arms around his small body and held him close, gently rocking him from side to side. Little by little, his breathing became calmer, and the trembling in his shoulders began to fade.

"Who the hell told you that you could touch my child?"

The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang, making me jump.

I looked up to find Zara standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the wooden frame for support. Her hair was completely disheveled, and the red silk dress she had wore for dinner earlier was wrinkled and hanging unevenly from her body.

The smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke followed her into the nursery, sharp enough to make me instinctively pull back. Her eyes were bloodshot, her expression wild and all of her anger was directed straight at me.

Ethan stiffened in my arms, a tiny gasp escaping him as he buried his face deeper into my waist, trembling.

"Mrs. Acosta," I said, keeping my voice low so I wouldn't escalate her anger. "Ethan had a nightmare. He was crying—"

"Shut up!" Zara spat, slurring her words heavily as she stumbled into the room. She swayed on her feet, grabbing the back of an armchair to steady herself before glaring down at us. "Get your hands off my son! You think you can just come into my house and pretend to be his mother?"

"I'm just comforting him—"

"I said get away from him!"

Zara lunged forward, her long nails reaching down to grab Ethan by his arm. She yanked on him roughly, trying to pull his small body out of my lap. Ethan let out a terrified shriek, his little fingers desperately digging into my sweater.

"Mommy, no! No!" Ethan screamed, crying hysterically. "I want Daddy!"

"Come here, you ungrateful little brat!" Zara barked, her voice raspy and harsh as she dragged him toward her. "You're coming to my room!"

I looked at Ethan’s face, at the fear written all over his features and whatever hesitation I had disappeared.

I knew exactly what could happen if I challenged Zara. I knew I could lose my job, and I knew I had nowhere waiting for me if she decided to throw me out. One phone call from her could probably make finding another position nearly impossible.

But none of that mattered while Ethan was looking at me like he was about to have a panic attack.

I gently pried Ethan's hands from my sweater, pushed him safely behind my back onto the bed, and stood up straight between the helpless child and his mother.

Zara froze and for a moment just stared at me as though she couldn’t believe I had actually stepped in front of her. Her expression shifted from surprise to anger as she slowly straightened herself.

"Get out of my way, Celeste." She growled, her tone very clearly meant to be threatening. She took a step closer, towering over me with her eyes blazing with murderous rage.

"He's terrified, Mrs. Acosta," I said, my voice shaking, but my legs planted firmly on the floor. "He needs to sleep. Please... just let him sleep."

Zara stared at me for another second before her mouth twisted into a cruel smile. She lifted one hand and pressed her index finger hard against my collarbone, forcing me to take a small step backward.

"Move," Zara whispered, her breath carrying the sour smell of whiskey as she leaned closer, her face only inches from mine. "or you're out of this house tonight."