The car pulled up to the grand entrance of Chateau Emporio.

Elise felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

This wasn't just any house.

It was a fortress of stone and glass, imposing and cold.

She took a deep, steadying breath.

Beside her, John was a silent, immovable presence.

His confidence was both intimidating and, strangely, a little reassuring.

The massive oak door swung open before they even reached it.

A tall, stern-faced man in a perfectly tailored suit stood there.

"Mr. Levine," he said, his voice a low, respectful baritone.

"Charles," John acknowledged with a slight nod. "This is Elise Scott. She will be staying with us for the foreseeable future."

Charles's eyes flickered to Elise, assessing her in a single, swift glance.

No warmth, no welcome. Just professional appraisal.

"Very good, sir. Miss Scott."

They stepped into the foyer.

Elise's breath caught.

The ceiling soared high above, a crystal chandelier glittering like a constellation of frozen stars.

Marble floors stretched out, gleaming under the soft, ambient lighting.

It was opulent. Sterile. Beautiful in a way that felt utterly devoid of life.

It was nothing like the chaotic, lived-in warmth of Scott Manor.

This was a showpiece.

A young woman with a kind smile appeared from a side door.

She bobbed a quick curtsy. "Miss Scott. I'm Grace. I'll show you to your room."

Elise managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Grace."

She glanced at John, who was already shrugging off his coat and handing it to Charles.

He didn't look at her. "Get settled. We'll talk at dinner."

It wasn't a suggestion.

It was a command.

Grace led her up a sweeping staircase.

The hallway seemed to go on forever, lined with closed doors and expensive-looking art.

"Master James is in the east wing," Grace explained softly. "Your rooms are in the west wing, overlooking the gardens. Mr. Levine thought you'd prefer the quiet."

Elise simply nodded, her mind reeling.

Master James. John's son. The boy at the center of this entire, bizarre arrangement.

The room Grace led her into was… breathtaking.

It was a suite, larger than her entire apartment at Crestwood Heights.

A sitting area with plush velvet couches.

A writing desk by a large bay window.

And a massive four-poster bed draped in silks.

Her single, worn suitcase looked pathetically out of place sitting on the ornate rug.

"Your private bathroom is through there," Grace said, pointing to another door. "Would you like me to help you unpack?"

"No," Elise said quickly, her voice a little too sharp. She softened it. "No, thank you, Grace. I can manage."

"Of course, Miss. Dinner is at eight. I'll come to fetch you."

With another smile, Grace slipped out, closing the door silently behind her.

Elise was alone.

The silence in the room was profound.

She walked to the window and looked out.

Manicured gardens stretched out below, perfectly symmetrical, perfectly controlled.

Just like everything else in this house.

A sudden, sharp pang of loneliness pierced through her.

She was a prisoner in a gilded cage.

A pawn in a game whose rules she didn't understand.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She pulled it out.

A message from her father, Benjamin Scott.

'Are you settled? Is everything… acceptable?'

Acceptable.

What a strange word.

The room was more than acceptable. It was luxurious.

The circumstances were utterly unacceptable.

She typed a quick reply.

'I'm fine, Dad. The room is lovely. Don't worry.'

She couldn't tell him the truth.

She couldn't tell him how the opulence felt like a weight, crushing her.

She didn't unpack.

She just sat on the edge of the ridiculously soft bed, staring at her hands.

Her life had been upended in the span of a single afternoon.

One moment, she was Elise Scott, disgraced heiress, fighting for scraps.

The next, she was the live-in nanny for the most powerful man in Crestwood.

It made no sense.

John Levine could hire an army of nannies.

Why her?

There had to be another reason.

A reason he wasn't sharing.

A soft knock at the door startled her.

"Come in."

It was Grace again. "Miss Scott? It's time for dinner."

Elise stood, smoothing down the simple dress she'd worn all day.

She felt underdressed. Unprepared.

She followed Grace back down the grand staircase, her heart thumping a nervous rhythm against her ribs.

John was already seated at the head of a long, polished dining table.

The table could easily seat twenty.

Tonight, it was set for two.

He looked up as she entered, his expression unreadable.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair to his right.

It wasn't the end of the table, but it felt too close.

Elise sat, her back straight.

Another staff member, a young woman named Chloe, began serving the food.

It was an exquisite meal. Seared scallops, a delicate salad, roasted lamb.

Elise had no appetite.

She picked at her food, the silence stretching between them, thick and uncomfortable.

"Why am I really here, Mr. Levine?" she finally asked, her voice quiet but clear.

John finished chewing a piece of lamb deliberately before setting his fork down.

He looked at her, his dark eyes intense. "I told you. To take care of my son."

"That's the job description. It's not the reason. You don't know me. You have no reason to trust me with your child."

"A gut feeling, Miss Scott."

"I don't believe in gut feelings in business. And this feels like business."

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "Perceptive."

He took a sip of wine. "My son… James… is a difficult child. He's been through a lot. The nannies… they either coddle him out of fear of me, or they try to discipline him into submission. It doesn't work. He needs strength. Not aggression. Not pity."

"And you think I have that strength?"

"I know you do," he said, his gaze unwavering. "I've seen your file. Losing your mother. Your inheritance. Your fiancé. Being cast out by your own family. And yet, you're still standing. You're still fighting. That is the kind of strength James needs to see."

Elise felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

He hadn't just hired some random woman off the street.

He had researched her. He knew her history, her pain.

He had deliberately chosen her because of her scars.

The realization was both unsettling and, in a twisted way, validating.

"What happened to his mother?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.

John's face closed off instantly. The small hint of openness was gone, replaced by a mask of granite.

"That is not a topic for discussion," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "Your concern is James. Not his mother. Not me. Is that understood?"

Elise nodded, the air suddenly cold again.

"Good. Your duties begin tomorrow at seven. You will take your meals with James. You will oversee his schedule. You will report any issues directly to me."

He stood, his dinner only half-eaten. "The rules are simple. Do not leave the grounds with him without my explicit permission. Do not discuss his mother. Do not disobey me."

He looked down at her, his dominance filling the vast room.

"Welcome to Chateau Emporio, Miss Scott. Do not disappoint me."

Elise stared coldly at Samuel. Her heart had shattered when he chose to save Sophia instead of her. Despite the pain, part of her wanted to hear his explanation after their three years together. Yet asking felt like begging, and she refused to stoop so low.

Samuel turned to the other man and froze. He was strikingly handsome. Samuel recognized him as the firefighter who had rescued Elise from the burning hotel last night. He hadn't seen his face clearly then, only remembered his imposing height.

"I want to break up, Samuel," Elise declared.

Samuel's chest tightened painfully at her words. He spun around, disbelief written across his face. Rage surged through him. "Do you even know who he is, Elise Scott?" he shouted, pointing accusingly. "He's just a firefighter! You're leaving me for someone like him?"

William's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Contempt and coldness flickered in his gaze, but he remained silent, showing no intention of leaving.

"You know exactly why we're breaking up!" Elise's cool tone now carried sharp anger. "Everything became clear when you chose to save Sophia last night. Don't insult my intelligence!"

Samuel's indignant expression froze. He had no rebuttal. After a long silence, conflicting emotions warred in his eyes before settling into resignation. "Maybe we were never meant to be together," he said, his voice filled with regret and misery. "You're so strong and independent, Elise... I always felt inadequate beside you. Being with you was stressful. You never needed me."

Elise stared back, a bitter smile touching her lips despite the numbness inside. She remembered meeting Samuel abroad while working as a street musician. He had been young and innocent then, his smile warm as summer. Cultured and refined, he'd generously donated to her performance and kept returning to support her. Slowly, two strangers became lovers in a foreign land.

She'd confessed her troubled past, but he'd dismissed it, promising a future together. When his family business faced crisis after his graduation, his family summoned him home. Elise returned with him as her career began flourishing. They both joined Mitchell Corp, working late nights, attending endless social events, persuading investors. Together, they revived Mitchell Corp.

He used to be grateful, vowing never to leave her... Now he claimed her strength and independence were flaws? That being with her was stressful?

Though Samuel looked guilty, relief also showed on his face. "Take care. You can always come to me if you need anything. We can still be friends..."

"Save your pity!" Elise snapped, her voice icy and mocking. "I'm no charity case needing your alms, nor would I ever trust a man who abandons me in crisis! Remember this, Samuel Mitchell—I was the one who dumped you! I sincerely hope you live happily with Sophia for the rest of your life and never regret choosing her!"

Her words left Samuel humiliated. He was at fault for abandoning her, and had nothing to say in defense. She was being unreasonable now, leaving no room for discussion. Giving her one last long look, he said quietly, "You should rest."

He started to leave but paused, turning toward William, who returned his gaze indifferently. "I've seen plenty of men like him—good-looking but penniless," Samuel growled, indignation rising. "They're all losers, smooth-talking bastards who trick women for money and pleasure. Don't fall for his—"

Elise cut him off sharply. "Do I look like some naive fool, Samuel Mitchell?!"

William casually straightened his hair just then, his gesture making his stance clear.

"If you want to ruin your life, go ahead," Samuel retorted, storming out and leaving the ward in sudden silence.

"Thank you for helping me to bed and with Samuel," Elise said eventually. "But could you please leave now, Mr. Levine?"

William nodded. "Of course. Please rest well, Ms. Scott."

Yet as his tall figure reached the door, he returned to place a stack of tissues near her bed. "If a man feels stressed being with you, it's his inadequacy—not your fault."

Elise did a double take, suddenly seeing William as different from other men.

...

William slowed his pace after leaving Elise's ward, pulling out his phone to make a call. "Charles."

"Yes, Mr. Levine?" came the respectful response.

"From now on, always prepare an extra portion of food for the patient in the room next to James."

"...Yes, Mr. Levine."

As William ended the call, another came through. Glancing at the ID, he answered, "Nathan."

"Heard there was a fire at your hotel right after you returned?" Nathan Davis teased.

"Yeah," William replied.

"Damage must be in the eight figures? How are you feeling?" Nathan pressed.

"Actually, it's good the fire happened when it did."

"...Hey, you're not losing it, are you? Why not join us for drinks? Drown your sorrows?"

"No need, but I'd join if you're celebrating for me instead," William replied. "That said, I'm not actually free."

Nathan was momentarily speechless. It hadn't been long since they last met, but William had suddenly developed a sense of humor?!

It took Nathan a moment to recover. "Anyway, isn't James getting discharged today?"

In truth, William had returned because of James's appendicitis, and the welcome party had been postponed.

"Not yet," William said. "I'm having him stay another half month."

"Wait, is James alright?" Nathan asked nervously.

"He's fine," William replied flatly. "We're just staying for fun."

Nathan was dumbfounded again—did William think the hospital was some kind of hotel?!

"Talk to you later."

"Wait, Will." Nathan quickly stopped him. "I could bring a psychiatrist to check on you..."

"Get one for yourself!" William snapped, hanging up.

He turned to glance at the adjacent ward, pursing his lips before entering his son's room.