The Billionaire's Nanny

Chapter 12: The Stone Pact

The study was different during the day. A beautiful, golden glow filled the room, dust motes dancing in the shafts of light. The rich scent of leather, mixed with Trevor’s intoxicating patchouli and bergamot aftershave, was a refreshing relief after the stale, stifling air of the library.

I sat in the velvet chair opposite the desk. Trevor moved with a predator’s grace to the other side, sinking into his large, leather reclining chair. On the desk, the files and photographs from the night before were organised into neat, clinical piles. Two brown paper folders sat between us, the words The Contract embossed on the front.

Trevor poured himself a measure of Scotch and took a small, thoughtful sip. He cleared his throat and slid one of the folders across the polished wood toward me.

"Here is the initial draft of the contract. Much of it is standard – a non-disclosure agreement and an employment contract regarding your position as a nanny. But then," he paused, his gaze intensifying, "there is the primary agreement for Operation JBE."

"JBE?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

"Jacob. Betsy. Emily," he said flatly.

"Before you sign anything, I’m assuming you want to know exactly what the plan entails." It was phrased as a question, but it carried the weight of a command. I nodded.

"Firstly, Jacob – and the rest of the world – must believe that we met before Betsy returned. Or, at the very least, before we knew she had returned. We will create a relationship backstory – a 'meet-cute', followed by a history of secret dates and private liaisons. we’ll choose a song to be 'ours'. We create the narrative together, Freya. Once we do, there is no going back."

"And the pregnancy?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"As we discussed, they will be the Stone heirs. I will be named on the birth certificate. I will treat them as my own children – for all the world knows, they are my children, the result of our affair. I’m committing legal fraud by signing those papers, hence the necessity of the non-disclosure. No one can ever know the truth."

"I still don't understand," I said, leaning forward. "Why would you risk your reputation – your freedom – to father the children of a woman you barely know?"

"It is the only way to truly dismantle Jacob," Trevor insisted. "His inheritance is contingent on his image as a 'family man'. By proving he abandoned his pregnant wife for a mistress, I can trigger a freeze on his assets. He told Betsy the twins weren't his – a barefaced lie, but we will use that. By proving his marriage to you was fraudulent, him using you as a placeholder in order to receive his cash, he falls into breach of his morality clause."

"That makes sense. But what if he demands a DNA test? We’d go to prison..." My chest tightened as a wave of panic rose. Trevor sensed it instantly; he reached across the desk and took my hand, his grip grounding me.

"There is an additional clause. Should Jacob demand a test, my lawyers will keep him tied up in court for years. I have influence beyond reach, Freya – I can ensure a test is prepared that names me as the biological father. Again, it is a risk, but one I am willing to take."

I was floored. He had thought of every loophole, every exit strategy.

"There is one other thing..." he paused, his thumb brushing the back of my hand. "To make this legitimate, we will have to marry. Don’t look so alarmed – I don’t expect a 'real' marriage in the traditional sense. I would never force that upon you. But it must be legal and absolute on paper."

My mouth dropped open. "I... I don't understand. What do you get out of this, Trevor? Other than revenge?"

Trevor sighed, a rare look of weariness crossing his face. "Honestly? My girls were abandoned by the woman who gave them life. She threw them away like rubbish. You know how that feels. You’re going to be a mother yourself soon, and my girls need someone who will love and protect them. I can survive without love, Freya, but my daughters deserve a mother who isn't a gold-digging whore."

A stray tear escaped and tracked down my cheek. It was a beautiful sentiment – in its own brutal way.

"I’m offering you a new life as Mrs Stone. The only expectation is that you love my girls and help me ruin the people who tried to bleed me dry - the very same people who hurt you. I don’t expect intimacy, but I do promise to love your children as my own. They will have equal inheritance rights to the girls. What do you say?"

How could I possibly say no? He was offering me a future, not just for myself but for my children. He was offering me the one thing I truly desired and thought I would never have - a real family. Well, close enough anyway. I glanced at him, taking in his ruggedly handsome features. He said he could live without love - I doubt he could ever love me but I could grow to love him.

"Where do I sign?" I managed a small smile, and his face broke into a genuine grin. He pulled the papers from the folder and set them before me.

"Sign here, Freya," Trevor murmured, his voice grazing the shell of my ear as he leaned in. The paper felt heavy – a death warrant for the broken girl I had been, and a birth certificate for the woman I was becoming.

My hand shook as I picked up the pen. Trevor leaned forward, that intoxicating scent of bergamot surrounding me, and placed his hand firmly over mine to steady it. My breath hitched as I lowered the nib to the parchment and scribbled my name.

As I finished, he took both of my hands in his, staring deep into my soul with those mesmerising brown eyes. "From this moment on, you are mine to protect. No one – especially not Jacob – will ever hurt you again."