Chapter 5 A Nanny

Juliette shot him a sharp glance-she was already running out of patience. "You have an idea, then spit it out! Why all the hemming and hawing?"

"Well, it's like this," the assistant began carefully, "The Cross family has been putting out job listings for months now. They're looking for a full-time nanny for the young master. But I heard the previous ones didn't last long-most of them were driven off within a few days by the little master himself. People say he's a nightmare to deal with. Honestly, Boss, sending you in as a nanny... isn't that a bit much? Plus, with Mr. Cross-he's not going to make it easy either."

Of course Juliette knew all that. What surprised her was just how serious Julian's condition had become-so much so that he rejected even a personal nanny.

The thought only solidified her resolve:

No matter how many disapproving stares she had to endure from the Cross family, she was going to be there for her son.

"You don't need to worry about any of that,"she said firmly. "Just get me in. I'll take care of the rest."

...

When Logan got back to the car, Julian was curled up in his car seat, his tiny back turned to him, head hanging low. Not even a glance. Silent protest.

Logan sighed. The moment he reached out to touch Julian's shoulder, the boy flinched and shifted away, his little body turning stubbornly to the side.

"Julian, I was only trying to protect you," he said softly. "You don't know if that woman is really as kind as she seems."

Julian covered his ears with both hands, his back heaving in quiet fury.

No. Not listening.

He didn't care what Daddy said-mommy was the best in the world. She couldn't be bad.

From the driver's seat, Filan glanced in the rearview mirror, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The tension between the father and son was palpable.

After a long moment of silence, Logan reached out again-only to find Julian's nose twitching. He was crying.

"Julian..." Logan's heart twisted. The last thing he wanted was for his son to get too emotional and have another episode.

In a low voice, Filan spoke up, "Sir, maybe we should head home? A familiar environment might help calm the young master down."

"Go. Now." Logan barked. As the car pulled away, his hatred for Juliette deepened.

If she hadn't shown up... Julian wouldn't be like this.

...

The next morning, Julian woke up with tear stains still on his cheeks.

He'd dreamt of his beautiful mommy-dreamt of her holding him, singing to him, reading him bedtime stories.

That was it. He had to find her.

He picked out his favorite outfit, slung on his little backpack, and carefully put on his mask. Then he crept downstairs.

While the maids were busy preparing breakfast in the kitchen, he used every couch, plant, and cabinet he could find as cover, inching toward the front door like a tiny ninja.

Just as his hand touched the doorknob, a low voice boomed from above:

"Julian, where are you going?"

Startled, Julian flinched. He turned to see Logan standing at the top of the stairs in charcoal-gray loungewear, staring down at him.

Julian pouted and withdrew his hand, but stayed rooted at the door, refusing to budge.

Logan came down quickly and reached to take off Julian's backpack. When he reached for the boy's mask, Julian instinctively stepped back and covered it protectively.

Logan paused, his voice gentling. "Daddy won't take your mask off."

He took Julian by the hand and led him to the dining table.

"It's time for breakfast. Sit tight, Daddy will cook for you." With that, he rolled up his sleeves and headed into the kitchen.

The moment he entered, the staff quickly cleared out. Everyone in the household knew: if it went into Julian's mouth, it was made by Logan.

The cold, ruthless master of the Cross family was nothing but a softie for his son.

Thirty minutes later, he placed a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs and buttered toast alongside a warm bowl of creamy chicken soup in front of Julian.

But Julian just stared at the food, still sulking over being caught mid-escape.

Logan patiently picked up a piece of the egg and held it to his son's lips.

"I made this myself. Won't you try it?"

Julian sniffed the faint scent of eggs and cream soup. He swallowed but didn't open his mouth.

"You can be mad at Daddy after you're full," Logan coaxed gently. "Even warriors need food."

Julian gave him a look, said nothing-but snatched the fork from his hand and picked up a piece of buttered toast himself.

That little face of his practically shouted, I don't need you to feed me!

Logan chuckled, his mood lifting just a little.

Seeing the young master finally eating, the servants brought out Logan's breakfast so he could join his son at the table.

A moment later, Butler Gray entered the living room with a woman behind him.

He gestured for her to wait in the entryway, then stepped into the dining room to announce, "Apologies for interrupting your meal, sir. The candidate for the young master's nanny is here. Would you like to meet her now?"

The moment Julian heard the word nanny, his little face fell. He tossed down his toast and hopped off

the chair, ready to storm off.

"Julian," Logan called after him, "We're just looking. If you don't like her, we'll keep searching."

Julian pouted, clearly annoyed, but eventually sat back down with a huff.

Butler Gray, observing all this, couldn't help but admire how much patience the boss had when it came to his son.

"I'll bring her in, then?"

Logan nodded.

Juliette stepped into the living room.

Julian kept his head down, refusing to even look. But the moment she appeared, as if by instinct, he looked up-and

saw her.

That beautiful woman.

His eyes lit up like stars in the night sky.

***