Dangerously His

Chapter Three

Annabel's Apartment

——

Leo ended the call with a grin still lingering on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Next week,” he said into the phone. “I’ll see you then.”

He hung up and lay back on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling of the small apartment. The room felt the same as always—cramped, familiar—but his chest buzzed with something new.

‘College’.

Northbridge International College.

The thought alone made his stomach twist with excitement.

In a week, everything would change. New classes. New people. A whole different world from the one he’d grown up in. He didn’t know what his college life would look like—whether he’d fit in, whether he’d stand out—but he was ready to find out.

Ready to learn.

Ready to explore.

Ready to be more than just the boy from a small apartment.

Northbridge wasn’t just any college.

It was the kind of place people talked about on the news. A prestigious institution known for grooming future leaders—politicians, tech innovators, business heirs. A school built on sprawling grounds, modern glass buildings framed by old trees and iron gates that looked more like the entrance to a private estate than a campus.

Most of its students came from families with power, money, or both.

And every year, only four scholarships were given.

Four.

Leo smiled to himself.

He and his friend had been two of the lucky ones.

The memory of seeing the acceptance announcement on television still felt unreal—his name scrolling across the screen beneath the words Northbridge International College Scholarship Recipients. Proof that he belonged there, even if he didn’t come from the same world as most of the students who would walk those halls.

He rolled onto his side, excitement buzzing through him.

A new beginning.

A new chapter.

“Northbridge,” he murmured under his breath, a grin spreading across his face.

Then, louder—certain.

“Here I come!.”

KINGSLEY'S MANSION

———

“Daddy!”

The sound of their voices broke through the quiet like light spilling into a dark room.

Annabel turned just in time to see the twins run toward the man who had just stepped inside.

Kingsley Rollins.

He barely had time to straighten before Lily collided gently into him, her small arms wrapping around his waist. Nuel followed more slowly, but his hand slipped into Kingsley’s coat with practiced familiarity.

And then—Kingsley smiled.

It wasn’t wide or careless. It didn’t soften him completely. But it was real.

Annabel’s breath caught.

The sharp lines of his face eased, the severity melting into something warmer—something human. His eyes, moments ago unreadable, now held unmistakable affection.

“There you are,” he said, voice lower, gentler. “Did you behave today?”

Lily nodded eagerly. “Yes, Daddy. I got a star in class.”

Kingsley crouched slightly to her level. “Another one?” He chuckled quietly. “You’re going to run out of space on that board.”

She giggled.

Nuel shifted beside him. “I finished my numbers faster than everyone,” he said, tone subdued but proud.

Kingsley’s hand rested on his son’s shoulder. “I knew you would.” His lips curved again. “Did you help Lily this time?”

Nuel hesitated, then nodded once.

Kingsley laughed—soft, unguarded. “That’s my boy.”

Annabel stood frozen, watching a side of him she hadn’t known existed.

This man—this powerful, untouchable CEO—was different with them. Completely.

Adam stepped forward gently. “Sir, it’s getting late. School tomorrow.”

Kingsley straightened, the smile lingering just a moment longer as he looked at his children. “Bedtime,” he said. “No negotiations.”

Lily pouted playfully. “But—”

“No,” he said, amused. “Go.”

She sighed dramatically, looked back at Annabel and offered her a small smile before taking Adam’s hand. Nuel followed without a word, casting Annabel one last guarded glance before turning away.

And just like that, they were gone.

The warmth faded.

Kingsley turned back toward Annabel—and the man who faced her now was not the one who had laughed moments earlier.

His expression returned to neutral. Controlled. Closed.

Those eyes found her again.

Piercing. Measuring.

Not cold. Not warm.

Just… distant.

Annabel swallowed.

“I—I’m Annabel,” she said, the words stumbling slightly. “The new nanny.”

Why did her voice sound smaller than she felt?

Kingsley studied her for a brief moment longer before responding.

“I know,” he said.

His voice was flat. Devoid of emotion. The softness she’d just witnessed was gone as if it had never existed.

“Adam briefed me.”

“Oh,” she said quickly. “Right.”

The silence stretched.

Her fingers curled at her sides, nerves buzzing beneath her skin. She wasn’t used to being looked at like this—as if she were a variable, not a person.

Then—

“Sir,” Adam’s voice cut in as he returned. “The remaining documents will be forwarded to Annabel tonight.”

Kingsley broke eye contact.

“Good,” he said.

The pressure eased.

Adam turned to Annabel with a polite nod. “You should rest. Tomorrow will be busy.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Of course.”

Kingsley was already moving away, his footsteps quiet but deliberate.

Annabel watched him go, her heart still unsettled by what she’d seen.

The man who smiled for his children…

And the man who looked at her like a stranger.

They were not the same.

And somehow, she knew—

working here would mean learning the difference.

She retreated to her room quietly, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

The space was still unfamiliar, though warmer now—her scent lingering faintly, her belongings arranged just enough to remind her she belonged here, at least for now. She kicked off the fluffy slippers she was putting on and sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly.

Only then did she realize how tense she’d been.

She picked up her phone and scrolled aimlessly for a few minutes—messages, social media, nothing really registering. Her mind kept drifting back to the living room. To the way Kingsley had smiled at his children. To how quickly that smile had vanished.

She was just about to put her phone down when a notification popped up.

From Adam.

She opened it immediately.

It was a neatly organized message—direct, professional.

Her daily schedule.

*Pick up the children from school.

*Supervise homework and after-school activities.

*Occasional grocery shopping for the children’s needs.

*Light tidying after them only.

A short note followed:

The residence has a daily cleaning staff. Your focus is solely on the children.

Annabel let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

That… she could do.

Scrolling further, she saw notes about school timings, approved routes, emergency contacts. Everything precise. Everything controlled.

Very Kingsley Rollins, she thought.

After reading it through once more, she locked her phone and placed it on the bedside table.

The room fell quiet again.

Annabel lay back, staring briefly at the ceiling before turning onto her side. Exhaustion finally c

aught up with her, heavy and unavoidable.

Tomorrow would be her first real day.

With the twins.

With this house.

With him.

And Annabel knew—it wouldn’t be easy.

But somehow… she was ready.