The Ice CEO's Contracted Nanny

Emma Anderson

The world doesn't give you a warning before it ends. Sometimes, all it takes is one wrong turn.

The scream came before the crunch of metal. A woman's scream, so sharp it seemed to shred the air itself. The steering wheel was still trembling in my hands when a flash of white light swallowed everything.

Then... nothing.

A silence fell, heavier than any sound.

I blinked. The reek of gasoline burned my throat. The airbag pinned me to the seat, a suffocating weight on my chest.

My little sister, Ellie was crying behind me-a small, choked sound that felt like it was tearing my soul in two.

"Ellie... princess... shh... shh..."

My voice came out as a hoarse, broken rasp. I turned my head slowly. Hot blood trickled from my forehead, dripping onto the steering wheel.

"Dad?"

No answer.

"Mom?" I called out.

Mom was slumped against the window, her head twisted at an unnatural angle.

Dad... Dad looked like he was sleeping, but it was a sleep far too deep.

Ellie's cries grew louder, more frantic.

"Ellie... I'm coming," I said, trying to soothe her, also trying to soothe myself.

My parents didn't stir-not at my sister's screams, not at my fumbling movements.

I forced the door open, my legs buckling as I stumbled out. My fingers felt like they belonged to someone else as I fumbled with her car seat buckle. I pulled my little sister into my arms, holding her tight against my chest. She buried her face in my neck, her tiny hands gripping my shirt as if I were the last solid thing on earth.

"It's okay, baby... I'm here... I'm here..."

A lie.

Nothing was okay.

But it was the only thing I had left to give her.

I staggered away from the car with Ellie in my arms. The asphalt was hot enough to burn through the soles of my sneakers. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.

"I'll be back, Dad... I'll be back, Mom... I swear..."

A weak voice, barely a whisper, drifted from the other car-the one crushed against ours, the two vehicles fused into one mangled wreck.

"Please... My son..."

I looked. A blonde woman was trapped between the steering wheel and the buckled dashboard. Her pale dress was soaked in red. So much red.

She clutched her stomach with both hands, as if trying to hold herself together. And in the back seat, a little boy, maybe three years old, was crying. He was strapped into his car seat, his blond hair matted to his tear-streaked face.

My heart stopped, then hammered against my ribs so hard it ached.

"I'll get him! I'll get him!"

I carefully set Ellie down on the pavement. A woman I'd never seen before was already running toward us.

"Give her to me!" the stranger shouted, her eyes wide with panic.

I handed my sister over. Ellie thrashed, screaming my name.

"I'll be right back, little princess, I'll be right back," I promised, my voice shaking.

I ran to the other car. The heat rolling off it was a physical blow. I yanked at the rear door with both hands. The metal seared my palms, but the lock gave way. I scooped up the boy. He clung to me instantly, his arms and legs wrapping around me like a terrified little monkey.

"It's okay... It's okay, little one..."

I moved back to the front door. The woman reached out a trembling hand and gripped my wrist. Her green eyes were filled with tears, but also with a calm that sent a chill down my spine.

"What... what's your name, angel?"

"Emma." My voice cracked.

She smiled. A smile so beautiful and so sad, I knew I would carry it with me for the rest of my life.

"Emma..." she repeated, as if committing the name to memory. "Thank you... for saving my Luca."

"You're going to be okay," I lied, because it felt like what you were supposed to say. "I'll get you out of here, I promise, I-"

She shook her head slowly. The blood was flowing faster now.

"No, sweetheart. My time is up."

Her gaze shifted to Luca, who was trembling in my arms. "But his isn't. Take him. Run. Live for him. Love for me."

Hot tears burned my cheeks. The words were a crushing weight, coming from someone already half-gone.

"I'll come back! I swear I'll come back for you and my parents..."

"Emma." She squeezed my hand with impossible strength. "Listen to a dying mother: save my son. It's the only thing I ask of this world."

A man's shout cut through the air.

"GAS LEAKING! IT'S GONNA BLOW, RUN!"

I looked back. My dad... My dad's eyes were open.

Just for a second.

He saw me. He moved his lips, the effort immense.

"Run, sweetheart. Run, my girl, and take care of Ellie."

"Dad!" I screamed.

The woman squeezed my hand one last time.

"I'll come back, ma'am..." My voice was barely a thread of sound.

"My name's Clara," she told me, tears finally streaming down her face. "Go, Emma. Go and don't look back. Make this day the beginning of a beautiful story for the three of you."

"The three of us?" I asked, confused. Her eyes flickered toward my sister, who was screaming for me from the stranger's arms.

I heard sirens wailing in the distance. Help was coming. Luca clung to me even tighter. And that was when the first explosion hit.

"RUN, EMMA!!!" my dad screamed, his voice thick with tears.

"Go, sweetheart," Clara whispered. "Save your lives!"

I couldn't speak. I just nodded, choking on a sob. She let go of my hand slowly, as if she were handing over the most precious thing in the universe.

I looked at my dad...

"Dad..." I whispered.

"Be happy, my princess. Daddy loves you."

My body screamed at me to stay, the urge to run to him a physical ache.

"IT'S GOING TO EXPLODE!!!"

That was the last thing I heard. And then I... ran.

I ran with Luca clutched to my chest as Ellie screamed my name just yards away.

I ran as the ground shook beneath me.

I ran as the air grew too hot, too heavy.

And then... The world exploded behind me.

A wave of heat threw me forward. I collapsed to my knees on the asphalt, instinctively shielding Luca with my body.

The blast was so loud my ears bled.

When I lifted my head, the sky was orange. And everything I loved... had turned to fire.

"Mom... Dad..." I whispered, and the world went black.

I woke with a gasp, sucking in air as if I were still trapped in the smoke. My heart hammered against my ribs, a painful, frantic rhythm. My hands clenched, grasping for Luca and Ellie, even though they weren't there.

Two years.

Two years, and that damn day was still lodged inside me like a piece of shrapnel. I could swear I still smelled it-gasoline, fire, the scent of a world ending.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, forcing myself to remember where I was.

My room.

The lopsided bed.

The warm, soft breathing beside me.

Ellie.

I turned too quickly, and my heart seized when my hand touched her skin.

Burning.

She was burning with fever. Her forehead glistened with sweat. Her little body was restless, her breaths coming in short, shallow pants.

No. Not now.

My stomach plummeted. Today was the interview. The one chance I had to pull us out of this miserable spiral. And I had no money to spare. Not for medicine. Not for a doctor. Not even enough to miss a day of work.

I swallowed, but the despair was a hard lump in my throat, scraping and raw.

"Ellie... little one... hold on a little longer, please," I murmured, brushing the damp hair from her forehead.

My heart beat out of rhythm. It was the same feeling from two years ago, just before the world exploded.

The only difference was, this time, I couldn't run.

I had to choose.

And time, as always, was not on my side.

Emma Anderson

The subway car rattled and jolted, threatening to shake me right out of my own skin. Each lurch made Ellie's head sway against my shoulder, her feverish heat cutting through my thin jacket like a silent accusation.

I brushed my fingers over her forehead every few stations, counting the seconds between the frantic pounding of my heart and the metallic clatter of the rails.

The digital thermometer I'd bought at the corner drugstore last night had read 102.6°F before we left. Now, in the crowded, stuffy train, I could feel the heat radiating from her, a sure sign the number was climbing.

I had no choice. The interview was today.

Knight Corporation was the only place hiring that didn't demand a spotless résumé, years of experience, or an "availability for international travel" I could never provide.

Overnight cleaner.

Midnight to six in the morning.

Minimum wage that would barely cover the back rent, but it was real.

It was money that could buy medicine, a new thermometer, maybe even a clinic visit if I could combine it with my tips from the diner.

Without it, we couldn't eat tomorrow. Without it, Ellie would keep burning silently in that twin bed.

I got off at our station with her in my arms, her small, fever-warm weight anchoring me to the cold platform floor.

The Knight building rose ahead of us, a monster of glass and steel reflecting the city's gray sky in its immaculate windows. Its interior lights glowed even during the day, as if the place never slept.

It was a world that belonged to other people. People who didn't have to choose between medicine and food.

The reception area was vast-polished marble, untouched leather sofas, and a curved desk with a smiling woman behind it. It was a professional, rehearsed smile, but it still managed to thaw a little of the ice in my veins.

"Good afternoon," she greeted me kindly.

"Good afternoon. I'm Emma Anderson."

"Emma Anderson, for the night cleaning position?"

"Yes..." My voice came out low, almost swallowed by the echo of the cavernous lobby. "I'm sorry... I had to bring my sister. She has a high fever. There was no one to stay with her."

The receptionist, whose name tag read "Sarah, " looked at Ellie with a gentle expression.

My sister stirred, her eyes glassy with fever, and shrank further against me, away from the bright lights.

"No problem at all. You can leave her here with me. I'll keep an eye on her," Sarah said, leaning slightly over the desk. "Hey, sweetie. Would you like a little cup of water? And I've got some colored pencils and paper here, if you want to draw while you wait for your sister."

Ellie nodded slowly, too drained to even speak. I settled her carefully into one of the plush armchairs, draping my old coat over her. I kissed her burning forehead, a lump forming in my throat.

"Ellie, stay right here and be quiet, okay? I'm just going in there to talk to someone. I'll be right back. Don't leave this spot. Don't touch anything. Promise me?"

"Promise..." she murmured, her voice as thin as a thread.

Sarah gave me an encouraging nod, and soon a woman appeared: Marina.

She looked to be in her forties, with elegant glasses and a calm voice that carried an air of authority. She led me down a long, silent hallway.

The interview room was small, lit by natural light pouring through a glass wall. Marina sat across from me and opened a folder.

"So, Emma... tell me a little about yourself. Why do you want to work here?"

I took a deep breath, the tightness in my chest forcing the truth out, raw and unfiltered.

"Because I'm desperate. My six-year-old sister has been sick for days. She has a fever that won't break. I don't have money for decent medicine, let alone a proper doctor's visit. If I don't get this job today, tomorrow... tomorrow might be too late. I'll take any shift. I'll do anything. I just need a chance."

Marina watched me for a long moment. Her gaze held no judgment, only a quiet, profound understanding.

"The position is demanding, Emma. Night shift, heavy cleaning, and you'll be alone most of the time. Do you have anyone to care for your sister during those hours?"

"I... I'll manage. I always manage," I lied. It was what I had to say to survive.

There was a beat of silence, then a faint smile touched her lips.

"The position is yours. You start Monday. We'll go up to HR to finalize the paperwork."

Relief crashed over me, so strong it was almost a physical blow. My eyes burned, but I held back the tears. Not here. Not now.

We went back to the reception area. Ellie was still in the armchair, scribbling slowly on a piece of paper. Sarah smiled at me.

"She was a little angel. She didn't move an inch."

"Thank you so much," I replied, a genuinely grateful smile spreading across my face as the first weight of the day lifted from my shoulders.

We took the elevator to the eighth floor. HR was more formal-sterile white walls, the scent of strong coffee and fresh paper. The receptionist there was another story: a woman with a closed-off face and a sharp voice that seemed designed to push people away.

"Children aren't allowed to wander the halls," she warned before I could even open my mouth.

I knelt in front of Ellie, taking her hot little hands in mine.

"Princess, sit right here for me. I need you to do the same thing you did downstairs with Sarah, okay? Don't leave this spot. Don't touch anything. Don't talk to anyone. I'm just going in there to sign some papers. I'll be back in ten minutes, okay? Promise me again?"

She nodded, her eyes red-rimmed from fever and exhaustion.

"Okay, Emmy..."

I went in. I signed papers. I answered more bureaucratic questions. My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely register the HR woman's words. All I could think about was the armchair in the hall.

I was out in less than fifteen minutes. And the hallway was empty.

The armchair was empty.

My old coat was tossed on the floor.

No sign of her.

"Where's my sister?" My voice came out too loud, echoing off the white walls.

The receptionist glanced up from her monitor, her expression one of pure annoyance.

"I'm not a babysitter." She stood and walked away. "I'm not paid to run after a child."

Ice-cold panic sliced through me. I broke into a run, my blood pounding in my temples.

I spotted a woman in a cleaning uniform down the hall and asked, "Did you see a little girl?"

"I saw a child head for the stairwell, but I couldn't tell if she went up or down, " she answered.

Stairs.

I flew up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time, the air burning in my lungs.

I burst onto the ninth floor. There was a small commotion in the hallway. A few people were standing around, staring toward the elevators, their muffled voices a dizzying hum.

"Has anyone seen a little girl? Six years old, light brown hair, in a pink hoodie? Please..."

A young woman shook her head, her eyes full of pity.

"I didn't see anyone, honey..."

The elevator chimed. The doors slid open with agonizing slowness. And there she was.

Marina stepped out, holding Ellie's small hand. My sister was walking, weak but steady, her eyes swollen from crying.

"Ellie!" I cried, rushing to her and dropping to my knees.

"She just went to the bathroom," Marina explained, her calm voice anchoring me. "I found her on the seventh floor, lost and crying. The cleaning lady said she saw you come up here, so I brought her back to you."

I pulled Ellie into a hug, so tight I could feel her fragile bones against my chest, the heat of her fever mingling with the tremors of my own relief.

"I'm so sorry, baby... forgive me... I'll never leave you alone again..."

Ellie wrapped her little arms around my neck, sobbing quietly.

"I was scared, Emmy... I thought you left me..."

"Never. I will never leave you. I promise."

I stood slowly, holding her hand with a grip that was almost possessive. I just wanted to get out of that building.

"Let's go home."

I took a step toward the elevator. Then I felt it.

Two small arms wrapped around my legs from behind. A small body clung to me with desperate strength, as if it would never let go.

I froze. The air caught in my lungs.

I turned slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. Big green eyes, brimming with tears. Messy blond hair. The same round little face I had pulled from the flames two years ago.

Luca.

He looked at me as if he had waited his entire life for this exact second. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

My voice came out in a hoarse, broken, nearly inaudible whisper. "You..."

I knelt to his level, and he hugged me with the same fierce urgency as he had that day on the pavement. We were there, locked in that impossible embrace, when a deep, furious voice sliced through the air.

"Who are you? And how do you know my son?"

I looked up.

A blond man stood there, his eyes the blue of a gathering storm, his expression that of a man deciding my fate.

The hallway disappeared.

The entire building disappeared.

And for a second, the world stopped turning.

Emma Anderson

Luca's embrace was warm, familiar, impossible.

Two years dissolved in that single instant. The smell of baby shampoo, the way he clung to my neck as if I were the only thing keeping him from being swept away... It was all exactly like the day I pulled him from the flames.

But the moment shattered in a heartbeat. A voice sliced through the air, sharp as a steel blade.

"Who are you? And how do you know my son?"

I slowly lifted my gaze.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in an impeccable gray suit that felt too expensive to exist on the same planet as me. His blond hair was perfectly combed, and his eyes were a blue so pale they looked like cracked ice.

Damien Knight.

I didn't need a name badge. I recognized him from the magazines at the diner, but seeing him in person was something else entirely. Power rolled off him in suffocating waves.

His name was engraved on every plaque and glass door in this place, but the man himself was far more terrifying than any corporate logo.

He looked at me as if I were vermin-a pest that needed to be crushed.

Luca stayed glued to me, his small arms locked around my neck. He wouldn't let go. He didn't say a word. He just trembled, his face buried in my shoulder, his breaths coming in short, panicked gasps, as if terrified I would vanish into smoke all over again.

Damien took a step forward, and the hallway seemed to shrink around him.

"Answer me," he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Who are you?"

Marina stepped forward, her voice wavering between professionalism and raw nerves.

"Mr. Knight, this is Emma Anderson. She's here for the night cleaning interview. We were just finishing up... She was just about to leave."

His gaze never left me. It bored into my eyes, analyzing the way his son clung to me, refusing to let go.

From behind me, an employee's shocked whisper cut through the silence. "Oh my God... he never lets anyone get that close. He hasn't said a word to anyone since the accident."

A chill traced a path down my spine. I stared at the top of Luca's blond head, the whispered words echoing in my ears. I couldn't process the weight of this embrace until Damien's voice, heavy with suspicion, dragged me back to reality.

"My son doesn't allow strangers to touch him." His voice was low, thrumming with an authority that demanded an impossible explanation. "Never. So I'll ask you one more time. Why is he clinging to you like he's known you his entire life?"

Luca slowly lifted his face. His green eyes, flooded with tears, met mine. He didn't speak-he never spoke, according to the news reports I'd devoured in the months after the accident.

Instead, he stretched out a trembling little hand and touched my cheek, his fingertips seeming to confirm I was flesh and blood, not a ghost.

Damien's brow furrowed. For a split second, his icy composure cracked, revealing a flicker of dark confusion.

"Luca," he commanded. "Let her go. Now."

The boy just shook his head, a desperate denial as his small fingers dug into the cheap fabric of my blouse. A low, hoarse whimper escaped him, and it broke my heart.

"I said, let go." Damien's voice was like contained thunder. He stopped beside me and tore the boy from my arms with a single, non-negotiable motion.

"Take your child," he hissed, his gaze flicking contemptuously toward Ellie. "And get out of my building. Don't you ever come back."

His tone was one of icy cruelty. My heart hammered against my ribs. Beside me, my sister's small hand squeezed mine, her fingers tight with a child's instinct for danger.

"Mr. Knight, please," Marina tried to intercede, her words tumbling out. "Emma desperately needs this job. Her sister is sick, she had no one to watch her. It's just... it's been a terrible day."

Damien's gaze dropped to Ellie, who was cowering behind my legs, her eyes wide with terror. Then his icy blue eyes snapped back to mine, completely devoid of empathy.

"My son does not interact with strangers," he said, his voice a low, controlled growl. "If you think you can use his vulnerability to pull something in this company, you are making a fatal mistake. Get out. Now. Before I lose what little patience I have."

"That's not what this is!" The words burst out of me. "I swear, I didn't even know-"

Luca thrashed in his father's arms. He reached for me, his small body leaning dangerously forward as silent tears streamed down his face. He wasn't making a sound, but his eyes were screaming for help.

Damien ignored his son's distress. He cupped the boy's face with his palm and turned it away from me-a gesture that looked gentle but was absolute in its authority.

He looked at me one last time. "Don't make me call security, Ms. Anderson."

Marina's hand was on my arm, pulling me back.

"Emma, let's go," she urged. "Please, we have to leave."

I stumbled back a step, then another, the polished floor seeming to tilt beneath my feet. Panic rose in my throat like a black tide. Ellie clutched my leg, her small body trembling.

"I... I just wanted the job," I whispered, but the vast marble lobby swallowed the words whole.

Damien didn't bother to respond. He simply turned his back with an icy elegance and walked away, carrying Luca with him.

Over his father's shoulder, the boy kept reaching for me, his small fingers grasping at the empty air, his face wet with silent tears. It was the most desperate look I had ever seen.

Security guards closed in, a wall of dark uniforms.

One of them murmured, his voice tinged with something like pity, "Please, miss. You need to leave quietly."

I bent and picked Ellie up. She felt too light in my arms, and her skin was hot, like a small ember about to burn out. My legs felt like lead as I walked to the elevator, Marina at my side murmuring comforting words that my brain couldn't process.

We stepped inside. The doors began to slide shut with a metallic sigh.

Through the narrowing gap, my eyes met Damien's one last time.

He had stopped down the hall, watching. His gaze was pure ice-no anger, just a flat, absolute indifference that chilled me to my very soul.

That was all I was to him. An insect under his shoe.

But then Luca's eyes found mine. He squirmed in his father's arms, a tiny, futile struggle.

No sound. Just a silent, devastating goodbye.

The doors sealed shut. The elevator began its descent.

Outside, the sharp city air hit me like a slap. The sky was a flat gray, the traffic a dull roar, the entire city indifferent to my ruin.

Humiliation burned through me, hot and sharp, leaving me feeling small and utterly defeated.

I managed a few steps, Ellie a heavy weight in my arms, before my legs gave out.

I stumbled to a low wall bordering the building's small, artificial garden, a sad patch of green surrounded by spindly trees. I carefully sat Ellie on the wall and fumbled with my bag, my hands trembling so badly I could barely work the zipper.

"Take a sip, sweetheart," I urged as I held out a bottle, my voice shaking. "It'll help."

She tried, but her lips barely moved. When I touched her forehead, her skin was burning. Her small body went limp, sagging against me without resistance.

"Ellie?" I cupped her face.

She was on fire. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Ellie!"

Her body collapsed forward, and I lunged to catch her before she hit the pavement. She weighed almost nothing, but in that moment, she felt like the weight of the entire world.

"No... no, please, Ellie..." I begged. "Wake up!"

Panic detonated in my chest. I screamed for help, but my voice was a hoarse, broken thing, swallowed by the roar of traffic.

People hurried past, their eyes glued to their phones, oblivious. The world spun, losing its color.

Ellie wasn't moving.