Chapter 3 The Agreement

Alessia's POV

His eyes bore into mine gauging my reaction.

I shrunk under his gaze, feeling like I had been stripped to my very being. Laid bare for him to see.

What did he see when he looked at me like that? A desperate woman whose family had nearly lost everything tonight? A charity case? Something else entirely?

"Mr Virelli I appreciate your help, I truly do." I gulped, "I don't know what impression you have of me but my body is not for sale."

He gave me a once over and chuckled. My cheeks tinged red I looked away not wanting him to see.

"Ms. Romano I'm afraid you've misunderstood my intentions." Amusement in his tone.

"Then... What do you want out." I managed to get out before my voice betrayed me.

"I want you to work for me." He said casually as he tucked his hands into the pocket of his slacks.

I blinked. Then blinked again.

Of all the things I'd expected him to say; a proposition, a demand, even a clarification that I'd misunderstood his intentions entirely,this was not on the list.

Work for him.

Adrian Virelli. The man whose face appeared on the covers of business magazines. The man who could buy those magazines if he wanted to. The man who had just spent nearly a billion dollars on a woman he'd never met.

My eyebrows drew together so tightly I could feel the tension ache between them. This made no sense. None.

I knew who Adrian Virelli was. Everyone did. He didn't need anything from someone like me. He had entire floors of assistants. He had people who probably fought each other for the chance to work for him. He had-

I stopped myself mid-thought and really looked at him. At the way he stood there so casually, hands in his pockets, as if he'd just offered me a cup of coffee instead of a completely inexplicable job.

"What," I started, then had to pause and steady my voice. "What could I possibly have to offer someone like you?"

"Mr Virelli I don't think I have any special qualifications that would make you help me out."

"You'll work for me for three years." He said completely ignoring my previous statement. "You will work as a nanny taking care of my daughter, Ava."

Before I could respond, a sharp laugh interrupted our conversation. Marissa stepped out of the shadows

I turned to face her and the embarrassment that had me shrinking moments ago evaporated completely. In its place white-hot rage that made my vision sharpen. Every detail of her mocking smile burned itself into my brain. The way her perfectly tinted lips curled. The smug tilt of her chin. The dismissive flick of her wrist as she gestured toward me like I was something unpleasant she'd scraped off her shoe.

"Mr Virelli you can afford to hire the best team of nannies in the country, in the world even." She cast a mocking glance at me. "Why would you want a woman that couldn't even give her husband a child."

Adrian's eyes darkened as he looked at Marissa.

"And you are?"

"Marissa Gonzalez." She answered as she stretched out her hand for a handshake, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Adrian looked at her outstretched hand with disdain.Marissa's hand hung in the air between them. One second passed. Two. I watched the confidence drain from her face in slow motion, watched her perfectly manicured fingers begin to curl back toward her palm.

"Miss Gonzalez what makes you think you can just walk into a conversation and give your unsolicited advice."

"I, I just thought you should know what type of woman you're dealing with." she sputtered surprised at his hostility.

"You should really do less thinking, it doesn't suit you." He threw the insult so casually I almost missed it. I choked back a laugh

Marissa's hand dropped. She actually fumbled, reaching for something; a comeback, a flirtatious remark, some way to salvage this but coming up empty. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. Like a fish out of water.

"I-I just thought-" She laughed, but it came out too high pitched. Her embarrassment evident. "I thought you should know what type of woman you're dealing with. She's not-I mean, everyone knows that she-"

"We're not friends, what gives you the right to advise me?" He continued not letting up.

"I'm sorry." She squeaked.

"Leave." He ordered, voice low.

She cast me one more hateful glance and scurried off.

"Thank you." I said quietly.

I stood there, frozen, waiting for the inevitable. In my experience, when a woman like Marissa turned her venom on someone, people found somewhere else to look. They studied their shoes. They checked their phones. They suddenly remembered urgent business elsewhere.

That's what had happened with my husband's family. When Marissa first started whispering her poison, when she first began planting seeds of doubt about my ability to give them an heir, no one corrected her. Not his mother, who wanted grandchildren. Not his sisters, who'd always viewed me as an outsider. And eventually, not even my husband.

But Adrian Virelli didn't look away. He didn't shift uncomfortably. He didn't pretend not to hear.

He defended me.

I felt the walls I had built so high over the years begin to crack. I looked away, afraid he might be able to see my undoing in my eyes.

"You don't need to thank me, I just dislike people who don't know their place."

"But she's right, I've never had a child of my own. I don't think I'm the right fit to take care of your daughter." I sighed.

"If I say you are then you are."

I opened my mouth ready to argue again but he lifted his hand, cutting me off.

"That's the only way for you to pay me back or you give me the money in full this night."

Three years.

The words echoed in my head. Three years of my life, handed over to a stranger. Three years of living under his roof, caring for his child, existing at his convenience.

I should have asked questions. What would the arrangement look like? Would I live with them? Would I have days off? What about my parents,would I still be able to visit them? What if his daughter hated me? What if I was terrible at this?

But even as the questions surfaced, I already knew the answers didn't matter.

I didn't have almost a billion dollars. Heck, I didn't have almost a million dollars. I had a savings account with maybe four thousand dollars in it with no job. My parents had nothing, tonight had proven that. They'd been one bad auction away from losing everything.

Adrian Virelli had saved them. He'd saved me from watching my family crumble.

This was the price.

I looked at him. Really looked, past the tailored suit, the impossible confidence and the face that belonged on magazine covers. I looked at the man who had just completely destroyed Marissa without even raising his voice. The man who had spent a fortune on a stranger and then offered her a way out that didn't involve his bed.

Three years was a small price to pay, I told myself.

"I accept your terms, Mr. Virelli."