The Billionaire's Nanny

Chapter3

★NINA★

After crying for perhaps ten minutes, I went back inside the bar, but a certain figure caught my eye. He was seated far back—alone—and staring at me. Even after catching his gaze, he didn’t falter. Instead, he waved for me to come over. Thinking it was just to clean his table, I approached him. He was dressed in a grey suit and was fairly handsome, with brown hair and grey eyes.

As I reached his table, I found that he didn’t need any cleaning. He hadn’t ordered a drink, and his table was sparkling clean. Still, I asked, "Yes?"

"Are you in need of money?"

It’s an understatement to say the question caught me off guard. I stared at the man as though he had grown a second head, while he stared at me expressionlessly. We held each other’s gaze as my head went into overdrive.

Why was he asking if I was in need of money?

Did he know me?

Was he a stalker?

The questions flooded me all at once, but still, I settled for a small, "Yes."

"Good. Meet me here by eleven in the evening," he said.

I shook my head. "I work here already. I can't meet you unless I'm done. You'll have to see me as a cleaner still."

His eyes narrowed, but then he nodded and stood up, brushing off his suit—even though there was visibly no speck of dirt on it.

"See you later then," he said, and I watched him walk out of the bar.

Time flew fast, and the day went well, I might say—except for the little talk with James and the sorrowful moment in the bathroom. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. It was almost eleven-thirty, and yet, the man was nowhere to be seen.

As though he had heard my thoughts from wherever he was, he stepped inside the bar through the glass door. He walked swiftly and sat back down in the chair he had occupied earlier. Leaning my mop against the wall, I walked toward him. When he noticed I was still in my cleaner’s clothes, he scowled.

"Go change into something else."

I didn’t know why he was ordering me around, but as though possessed, I actually walked to the locker room, picked out my clothes, and changed into my t-shirt and jean shorts before returning to him.

"Follow me," he said, standing up and walking out of the bar.

I was certain Mika, Cheryl, and Jean were all watching me, but they were the least of my concerns right now. It was nighttime, and this man was taking me somewhere I didn’t know. My body was taut with alertness.

We walked to the garage and to a red SUV—SUVs are overrated, in case you’re wondering why I know the name of the car. He opened the backseat door for me. Narrowing my eyes, I stepped inside the vehicle, and that’s when I felt a stronger presence beside me.

Whipping my head around with the speed of lightning, I locked eyes with the man sitting next to me—and the sight knocked the breath out of my lungs.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man as gorgeous as the one seated beside me. And the worst—or maybe best—part was that he wasn’t even wearing a suit. He was dressed in a simple black cashmere sweater and slacks.

He had oxblood-colored tousled hair, gelled back, but with a few strands falling over his face. His skin was fair and freckled. His piercing green eyes—the color of rare jade—were locked onto me, and his lips were dark, small, and supple. I gulped and took my gaze back up to his face.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Reflexively, my eyes darted to the driver's seat, where the first man had entered. I hadn’t even registered when he had gotten in.

"Nina Manalo," I answered a bit shakily. His presence was too intimidating, even though we had enough distance between us.

"Filipina?" His smooth voice rumbled.

I nodded. "Yes. My father is from the Philippines, but my mom is from here—New York. I was born here."

I didn’t know what happened, but I was tempted to tell him everything.

The man nodded and sat back, though his gaze remained fixed on me. "Malachi Kane."

God. Even his name was as beautiful as he was.

"I need a live-in nanny," he said, and my eyes widened. My gaze flickered to the other man, but he wasn’t looking at us. I turned back to Malachi.

"I have a daughter—four years old."

"Oh… Oh…" I nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

"I need you to take care of my daughter twenty-four seven. You should be able to cook and clean as well. Can you? Cook and clean?" His eyes slanted as he watched me.

I nodded quickly. "Yes."

Though I hadn’t cooked my own food in months, it didn’t mean I had forgotten how. I had learned since I was ten. Mama always wanted me to learn because she was a great chef herself.

"I can clean and cook. I can also take care of your daughter perfectly."

Malachi stared at me for some time before giving a final nod. "Good. That’s good." He nodded again. "Your pay is a hundred dollars a day. If you work exceptionally well, it can be potentially increased. I don’t have a specific time record. You just have to keep working for me until I say you’re done or until something unavoidable comes up for you."

I didn’t hear the rest of his statement. My hearing—and every other function in my being—paused when he said my pay was a hundred dollars a day.

Hundred. f*****g. Dollars.

Either this man was unbelievably rich, or he didn’t actually know what he was offering.

"Are you cool with it?" he asked again, pulling me out of my reverie.

I nodded sharply. "Yes. I almost have no issues, so nothing can come up. I'll work for you for however long you deem fit."

His response was a low, dark chuckle. Then he nodded and handed me his phone. "Type in your contact details."

I did exactly as ordered, and after saving my number, I handed his phone back. A few seconds later, my phone pinged with an incoming message. I took it out and read it.

"That's my address. Be there at 8 p.m. sharp."

"Okay," I nodded. "Thank you."

His response was a small nod, and I took that as my cue to leave the car. I bowed deeply before closing the door and walking back inside the bar.

---

Walking through the dark alley leading to my flat was one of the things I hated about working till midnight. The place was dark and sometimes reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. It was a junkie’s paradise.

But tonight, something felt off.

It was the creeping sensation in my spine, the way my heart thundered, the way I heard the slightest shuffle of feet behind me.

That’s when I knew I was being followed.

I started walking faster. I didn’t know what the person wanted, and I hadn’t stolen from anyone who would hire a hit on me. The footsteps behind me continued.

I ran.

The apartment was just a few minutes away. I would make it if—

"Caught you!"

A hand clamped over my mouth, slamming me into the closest wall. A body pressed against mine.

I tried to scream, but the sound came out muffled.

"God. Such a nice ass you have," the man's stinky breath hit the shell of my ear. "Got some ass work? If you relax, I'll make this good for you."

I thrashed, only to be slammed harder into the wall. Something warm slid down my forehead.

"Check her f*****g bag and bring out whatever’s inside."

Fuck.

There were two of them. They were going to rob me, too.

I stopped struggling and let them take what they wanted. At least that w

as better than getting r***d by two men.

After they stole the fifty dollars I had earned, they ran off—laughing like psychopaths.