Noah’s New Nanny

ELENA'S POV

The hours stretched endlessly as I sat on the edge of my bed, my phone resting on the table like a ticking time bomb. My eyes flitted to it every few seconds, my stomach twisting into tighter knots. Justin had said they’d let me know by the end of the day, but the waiting was unbearable.

I needed this job. Desperately.

When the notification sound finally rang out, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. My hand shot forward, snatching the phone so fast I almost knocked it over. My fingers trembled as I unlocked the screen, my eyes scanning the message that had just arrived.

"Hi Miss Elena, we hope this message finds you well…”

I skimmed the pleasantries, my breath hitching. Then I found it: “You have been employed… but on probation.”

Probation. The word barely registered. All that mattered was the first part: I was employed.

“Finally,” I whispered, relief flooding through me. A smile broke across my face as I tossed the phone onto the bed and began throwing clothes into my suitcase. There was no time to waste. My research had already told me what to expect: the position required me to live with the family. That didn’t bother me. I was ready for whatever came next.

By Friday evening, I was standing outside the Smith mansion. The sprawling estate loomed before me like something out of a fairytale—or maybe a warning. Its high gates and manicured lawns spoke of wealth and power, but the building itself felt cold and distant. I didn’t care. I had a goal, and I wouldn’t let anything distract me.

---

The next morning, the headmaid greeted me with a clipboard in one hand and a no-nonsense expression. She wasted no time in laying down the rules as she led me through the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion.

“As you already know, you’ll start attending to Noah tomorrow,” she began, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Her tone was clipped, each word an order rather than a statement.

“Yes, ma,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

“All your moves will be monitored,” she continued, glancing at me over her shoulder.

“Yes, ma.”

She paused in front of a small building just behind the main house and gestured toward it. “This is the maid's quarters. It’s where the rest of the staff stays. But your position is… different.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, as though the difference annoyed her.

I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

“You’ll be required to live in the main house,” she said at last, her tone laden with meaning. “Close to Noah at all times.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She resumed walking, her voice softer but no less firm. “Go through your manual tonight and memorize every detail. You’ll be tested tomorrow.”

“Understood. Thank you, ma’am.”

“The entire family lives here, but only Master Justin and his wife stay on the first floor. That’s where you’ll be, too. Near Noah.”

Her gaze bore into me as if daring me to cross a line I hadn’t even approached. “But don’t think that proximity means privilege. You’re here to work, not to trespass. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, keeping my voice as polite as possible.

She smirked faintly, the expression more cutting than her words. “Not that it matters. You won’t last the week.”

The comment was muttered under her breath, but I caught every word. It stung, but I refused to react. Let them think about what they want. I wasn’t here to make friends or prove anyone wrong.

If they knew what I was really after, they wouldn’t dare underestimate me.

The weekend flew by in a blur of quiet anticipation, and before I knew it, Monday had arrived—my first official day on the job. Despite my time in the Smiths’ mansion, Justin remained a ghost, his absence as palpable as his reputation.

I woke before dawn, my nerves propelling me out of bed. By the time the sun crept over the horizon, I was already standing outside Noah’s room, my hand hesitating on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside.

He was still asleep, his tiny body nestled in the middle of a bed far too large for him. The massive king-sized frame dwarfed him, making him look even smaller than his four years. His peaceful face, framed by soft curls, tugged at something deep inside me.

I let my gaze wander around the room, taking in every detail. This wasn’t my first time here, but it was the first chance I’d had to truly look. The space was… overwhelming. Every corner was brimming with opulence, from the towering shelves crammed with pristine toys to the sprawling closet that looked more like a luxury boutique.

All this for a four-year-old? I thought, shaking my head in disbelief as I thumbed through his clothes. Each piece was immaculate, tiny labels boasting designer brands I’d only ever seen in magazines.

Picking out a crisp white shirt, navy blue shorts, and matching shoes, I packed his bag, adding an extra outfit for the ice cream outing with his grandmother later. Then I moved to the adjoining bathroom, filling the tub and setting out his towels.

Finally, it was time to wake him.

“Noah? Noah?” I called softly, leaning over him and tapping his tiny shoulder.

He stirred, his brow furrowing as he let out a soft, sleepy groan. “Hmmm…”

“It’s time for school,” I said gently.

His eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, and after a few minutes of coaxing, I managed to get him out of bed. The morning passed surprisingly smoothly; he didn’t fight me as I bathed and dressed him, though his occasional yawns and sleepy pouts made me chuckle. By the time I was tying his shoelaces, he was humming a little tune under his breath, his mood lighter.

And then the door creaked open.

“Daddy!” Noah’s face lit up instantly, his voice brimming with excitement.

Startled, I glanced over my shoulder to see Justin standing in the doorway. He was dressed sharply, as always, but his expression was far from composed. His eyebrows rose slightly, surprise flickering in his piercing eyes as he took in the scene before him.

“Good morning, Dad,” Noah said, bouncing on his heels.

“Good morning, Master Justin,” I offered politely, straightening up.

But Justin’s sharp gaze ignored me entirely. “Noah,” he said, stepping into the room, “why are you already dressed?”

The confusion in his tone sent a ripple of panic through me. Was I too early? Did I mess up? I glanced at the clock—7:00 a.m. Surely, with school starting at eight, this was a reasonable time to get him ready? Didn’t he still need breakfast?

“I’m dressed for school, Daddy,” Noah replied proudly, spinning around as if to show off.

Justin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I can see that,” he said, his voice softer now, though his eyes flicked back to me, sharp and assessing. It felt like he wanted to say more but stopped himself.

After a moment of silence, he crouched down in front of Noah, his expression softening. “So,” he said, his tone light but laced with something I couldn’t place, “what do you think of your new nanny?”

I held my breath, waiting.

“Miss Elena? I like her, Daddy,” Noah replied without hesitation, his smile so wide it nearly disarmed me.

Justin’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise breaking through his composed demeanour. I froze, equally stunned. From everything I’d heard, Noah was notoriously picky—selective to a fault. I couldn’t imagine him saying he liked any of his previous nannies, let alone this quickly.

Was his approval a good thing or a bad one? I’d used my natural connection with him during the interview, but I was careful not to overdo it. I didn’t want to stand out too much; I only wanted Justin’s attention. But Noah’s unexpected affection could stir unnecessary drama in a family like this, especially when everyone seemed to expect me to be gone within two weeks.

“Really? Why? You just met her,” Justin asked, his brow furrowing slightly. His voice held a note of concern, though I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or calculated. Wasn’t he the one worried his son wouldn’t like anyone? Now that he did, why was Justin questioning it?

“She’s beautiful,” Noah replied innocently, his face lighting up.

I nearly choked. What? What is this child saying?

I dared a glance at Justin, only to catch him giving me a long, unreadable look. “Let’s go have breakfast,” he said, scooping Noah into his arms and striding out of the room without another word.

I let out a shaky breath, my thoughts a tangle of confusion and unease. Gathering Noah’s backpack, I headed to the elevator, descending to the dining area.