Gradually, the crying softened.
“The duck wasn’t bad,” she whispered, finally meeting his eyes. “He just missed his mama.”
At the word “mama,” Oliver’s small body sagged. His hands reached out—not to strike, but to be held.
Emily lowered the crib rail and gathered him carefully into her arms. He buried his face in her shoulder and let out a long, exhausted sigh before falling asleep.
When Adrian walked upstairs later, expecting destruction, he froze at the doorway. His son—the child no one could soothe—was sleeping peacefully against the chest of a cleaning employee, gripping her finger tightly.
Relief flooded him. So did something sharper—jealousy. In less than an hour, this woman had done what he couldn’t manage in a year.
Emily startled when she saw him. “I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t supposed to—”
“Please,” Adrian whispered, raising a hand. “Don’t move.”
That afternoon changed everything.
Desperate, Adrian offered Emily a new position as Oliver’s nanny, doubling her salary. Thinking of her younger brother Mateo’s college tuition, she agreed.