His Daughter's Crazy Nanny

EVELYN

"Thank you so much, Cassie. I don't know what I would have done without you."

I stepped into the house and watched Cassandra close the door behind me.

"Don't mention it," she said, waving a hand. "Consider this you cashing in on all the favors I owe you."

Cassandra has been my best friend since college. We've always done everything together, but at this point in our lives, it seems like she's the only one who has her shit figured out. She's married with two kids, owns her house, and works a job she absolutely loves.

She reaches toward me and gently plucks the sleeping Bella from my arms. Then, without a word, she takes the overnight bag off my shoulders and slings it over hers.

"Don't worry about her. I'll take care of her. You just go sort yourself out."

My throat tightens, and I feel tears threatening. I lean forward and hug her, dropping a kiss on Bella's forehead.

"Thank you so much."

"If you say thank you one more time, I swear I'll hit you with my new spatula," she says, grinning.

"Thank you very much," I say with a smirk and bolt out the door before she can put Bella down and come after me.

---

I pull my phone from my back pocket to order an Uber. The nearest bus stop is about a mile away, and I'm in heels-like an idiot. I walk a few blocks away from Cassie's house because if she sees me just sitting there, she'll try to drop me off herself.

The Uber's fifteen minutes out, so I sit on the curb and rest my purse beside me.

My life has always been a goddamn mess. From my parents dying when I was fifteen to being bounced around different foster homes. The only reason I even got into college was because of a fully funded scholarship.

When I graduated, I thought I was finally free. Finally ready to live the life I deserved. That was before Lucas.

We got married a year after I graduated. Cassie never liked him, and in hindsight, I should've listened. But I was young and stupid and thought love would fix everything.

Six months in, the abuse started. He made sure to only hit places clothes could cover-he didn't want his friend, my boss, to know. Reputation and power meant everything to him.

He always apologized afterward. Said he was just misunderstood. Said he was stressed. Said I should be easier to live with. It took me a while, but I finally realized if gaslighting were an Olympic sport, Lucas would've taken home gold for America.

The courage to leave came when I had my daughter. No little girl should grow up watching her father beat her mother. I left three years after Bella was born and started the brutal process of trying to get a divorce.

He refused. Made it hell. But finally, after everything, the court granted it. He was ordered to pay child support, but honestly, I want nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, he doesn't feel the same.

We've been officially separated for a month, and he's still finding ways to ruin me. Tonight was the last straw. I got home from work, started prepping dinner-and then saw the termination email.

No explanation. No warning. But I didn't need one.

I knew it was Lucas.

And I'm not just going to sit back and let that bastard take my job. Not when I've worked so hard to build my independence.

So now I'm headed to Club Joker-where my boss is guaranteed to be. I'll make him understand exactly why firing me was the worst decision of his life.

The Uber pulls up. I climb in.

"Good evening, miss. Where to?"

The driver looks like he's in his late forties, with soft creases around his eyes and a polite smile.

"Good evening, sir. Club Joker."

His eyes flick up to the mirror, just for a second. He doesn't say anything, but I feel the judgment radiating from him. Everyone knows Club Joker is where shady deals and rich secrets thrive.

I lean back and close my eyes. I don't owe him an explanation-and I'm going to need all my wits about me if I want my job back.

---

***

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do?"

My voice wavers, and I hate that it does.

My boss-well, ex-boss now-leans back on a velvet couch in his private suite, flanked by two women who couldn't be older than twenty-five. He doesn't even blink.

"Look, Evelyn, it's nothing personal. Besides, I gave you a generous severance package. I just don't require your services anymore. Unless, of course..." he leans forward slightly, smirking, "you're offering an entirely different kind of service."

The women on his arms giggle, all breath and glitter and empty eyes.

"You bastard! This is all because of Lucas, isn't it?"

He shrugs and downs his drink. "That man's a close friend. What do you expect me to do?"

"Do you know what he did to me? What he put me through?"

He signals one of the women to refill his glass and starts kissing the other like I'm not even in the room.

I snap. I grab the nearest bottle from the girl's hand and hurl it at the wall. Glass shatters. He jumps, finally looking at me like he remembers I exist.

"Fuck you," I say, my voice low and shaking. "You bloody bastard."

Then I spin on my heel and walk out, slamming the door behind me.

---

The bass from the club floor swallows me as I push through the crowd. I stumble to the bar and collapse onto a stool.

The bartender gives me a cautious look.

"Vodka. Chocolate vodka," I mutter.

He doesn't move. Just stares.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

He clears his throat. "I'm sorry, miss, but you can't sit there."

"I've had a shitty day. All I want is a drink. I'll be out of your hair in five minutes."

He looks past me, and I follow his gaze.

There, one stool over, is a man who looks like a god carved from marble.

Suit jacket on his lap. First three shirt buttons undone, exposing a firm chest. Rolled sleeves revealing veined, sculpted forearms. Hair combed back, effortlessly elegant. He looks like sin in a glass.

The bartender lowers his voice. "He reserved the entire bar. Everyone knows not to sit here when he's around."

I glance around. Sure enough, every stool around him is empty. The club may be full, but people know not to cross certain lines.

But it's already a shitty day. How much worse could it get?

"Excuse me," I say to the silent Adonis beside me, "you do know reserving the entire bar makes no sense? Where are poor, unfortunate souls like me supposed to drink their pain away?"

He doesn't even look up. Doesn't blink.

Infuriated, I reach out and shove his shoulder. Yep. Definitely ripped.

He turns, slowly. His eyes meet mine-cool, silver, unreadable-and I feel frozen.

He stares for a long beat, then glances at the bartender. "Serve her."

And just like that, he goes back to his phone.

I blink. The bartender sets the drink down without a word.

"Thanks," I mumble. I down it in one gulp and hand him the glass again.

By the third round, I reach for the bottle myself.

"Relax," I tell the bartender. "I'm paying. You were just taking too long."

He nods and backs away.

---

My phone pings. I pull it out and already know who it is.

Unknown Number

I'm going to make your life a living hell, you stupid bitch.

I stare at the screen. A chill runs down my spine. Then I slide the phone back into my pocket and drink straight from the bottle.

A little while later, everything starts spinning. I pull out my card and hold it out to the bartender.

He shakes his head. "Don't worry. He already paid. Do you need me to call a cab?"

I burp and swing my gaze back to the silver-eyed Adonis.

"You paid?" I slur. "Why? You think I'm too pathetic to buy my own fucking drink?"

Still no response.

That pisses me off more than anything.

I slide off my stool and nearly faceplant. Grabbing the bar to steady myself, I stumble over and plant myself in front of him.

I grab his chin and turn his head to face me.

"You stupid, stupid man. Looking like Adonis doesn't give you the right to act like you rule the damn world, you hear me?"

He says nothing.

I yawn, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and before I know it, I'm sliding into his lap.

"Don't misunderstand me-I hate men. Every last one of you is trash. But you..." I rest my head on his shoulder, my words slurring, "you seem a bit okay."

Darkness closes in.

The last thing I see is the bartender's horrified expression as everything goes black.