The Billionaire's Ex-Convict Nanny

Chapter 1

Adrian's POV

"Wake up! Wake up! Last meal of the day, Martinez, unless you want to stay here forever," the officer said, his tone flat and mocking...

"Thank you." I said with the pains in my dry throat

He shoved the tray in front of me, his eyes not meeting mine, "Eat up, Martinez," he said with a cold voice.

There's absolutely no difference between his dry cold voice and the dusty walls of the prison that surrounds me. Then he stormed out of the cell as usual. Never expecting a warm treatment from the officer... I'm used to the coldness from them.

The smell of disinfectant filled the air and the main door slammed shut again, leaving me alone again.

I looked at the plate of food on the floor...A lump of hard bread and watery soup. Tasteless and cold. This was the food I had eaten since the first day I stepped foot into this prison. My stomach twisted, but not from hunger but from the emptiness that I had learned to live with.

Then, I forced myself to eat , as I tore the bread with shaking hands. The bread was so hard it hurt to swallow. It tasted dry and lifeless, like giving up.

Ten months of staying here for a crime I didn't commit. I lost my freedom and a little while to lose my sanity.

The walls around me were cracked and wet from the morning's rain. They smelled like rush just like every forgotten thing left in this prison to rot. I pressed my back on the cold concrete and exhaled watching the mist of my breath fade away.

No bed. Just a slab of rusted iron frame that was as rough as stone. With the bed sheet that was too thin to cover me from cold nights. Each time I lay on it, the metal pressed into my back, leaving angry red marks on my back.

Being here has taught me one thing, you don't need a real prison to feel broken - losing trust in others is enough to make you feel trapped and alone.

***

Maybe I should start from the beginning before the prison walls, the officer, the cold meals and the sleepless nights.

My name is Adrian Martinez... twenty-three, and I would be honest my life has been nothing but a life filled with a lot of uncalmed storms.

I lost my parents at the age of 10. I was just a child; I was too young, I didn't understand what death was, what I knew was that they were not coming back. Then life became unfair.

My aunt-my mother's sister- took me in after my parents' death. She was supposed to take care of me, supposed to be my last surviving family but she treated me like an outcast in her home. I didn't attend the best school just like her children did, she barely gave me food to eat, I scrub the floor and