The Billionaire's Reluctant Nanny

Alessia

"I'll give the company back to your father. All you have to do is kneel and beg."

Julian's voice echoed throughout the auction room as if he wanted everyone to hear it. And they did. 

"Apologize to me in front of all these people," he continued, "and I'll return every penny I took from your father's company. I'll settle all the debts. Everything." He bowed his head, savoring the moment. "Just one apology. That's all."

Alessia stared at him. Around her, the wealthiest people in the country held their breath, watching.

On the platform behind her, her father stood between two auction attendants, his gaze fixed on the floor. Enzo Romano, a man who had spent his entire life walking with his head held high, couldn't lift his eyes. Her mother sat in the front row, clutching an old photo album, the only thing she had salvaged before her home was foreclosed upon, silent tears streaming down her face.

But what had pushed her to the limit was Julian Mercer.

Her ex-husband.

He sat in the center of the front row, in the most prominent spot, like a king enjoying a show. And clinging to his arm, enveloped in a designer dress, was his lover. The woman smiled, whispering something in Julián's ear, and he laughed, a loud, satisfied sound that cut through the murmur of the crowd. They had come to witness the final, crushing defeat of the Romano family.

Alessia felt a roar in her ears, drowning out the auctioneer's voice. She walked down the aisle, her heels silent on the thick carpet, her gaze fixed on her mother. She had to reach her, offer her some support. She was only a few steps from the front row when Julián noticed her.

A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. She released her lover and stood up, her movements fluid and confident. She stepped into his path.

"Alessia," he said, his voice soft as poisoned honey. "My God. You look... good."

She stared at him, her face a perfectly expressionless mask. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

He chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "Still the same ice queen. I was just telling Marissa about how stubborn you are." He reached out, his fingers closing around a strand of her dark hair. He twirled it, a gesture that was once intimate but now just disgusted her. "Always have been. But," he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that still carried in the sudden hush that had fallen around them, "I'm in a benevolent mood tonight. It's not every day a man gets to watch his ex crumble so pitifully."

A ripple of nervous laughter went through the crowd.

Alessia's blood ran cold.

"So, I'm going to make you an offer, cara," he continued, using the Italian endearment mocking her. He released her hair and stepped back, gesturing grandly to the room. "Right here, in front of everyone. A show of good