At twenty-four, Isabela Leal had learned the hard way that nothing in life came free. She lived in Marbella, worked hard, and carried a heart far too big for the world she'd been given. With silky brown hair, determined light-brown eyes, and a warm smile that put everyone at ease, she had a quiet, natural beauty that turned heads wherever she went — though she never seemed to notice. She'd been working as a sales associate at a clothing boutique, always kind, always punctual, always the first one there and the last to leave. Her routine was grueling, but she never complained. Every setback she met with courage, every hardship with stubborn hope. Despite financial struggles and obstacles that never seemed to stop coming, Isabela held on to her values. Kindness, loyalty, and relentless work ethic — she believed those mattered more than any fortune. Her greatest strength was her refusal to let the worst of life strip away the best of who she was.

Isabela walked through the door with tears streaming down her face. One look at her — home hours before she should've been — and Lais already knew.

"Come here," Lais said, patting the couch beside her.

"I got fired today." Isabela's voice cracked. "And I got slapped for something I didn't even do."

"Let me guess — that toxic manager of yours."

"She told my boss's wife I was his mistress. Can you believe that? And that coward just sat there and said nothing while I was being accused."

"Please tell me you didn't just take it."

"Of course not. I told his wife to check the security cameras if she wanted to see who the real mistress was." Isabela wiped her cheeks. "At least my severance was decent."

"Girl, you worked there for two years without a single sick day or absence. Of course it was decent."

"I'm going to pay a few months' rent ahead, stock up on groceries, and start handing out resumes."

"Don't worry about it right now. I'm heading to work in a bit — I'll ask around, see if anyone's hiring."

"You switched shifts today?"

"Yeah, my manager asked me to cover the afternoon. His little favorite called in sick."

Isabela managed a small laugh. "Can we eat? I haven't had anything all day."

"I made pasta that'll make you forget your own name. Try it."

"This is why living with a future head chef has its perks."

"Oh, stop. You cook just as well. But your real calling was always nursing."

Isabela's smile faded. "That was my dream. Too bad it didn't work out."

"Everything has its time. Your stepmother stole your diploma and handed it to that snake of a stepsister, but karma doesn't forget."

"Let's not talk about that. I've put that family behind me." She stood up. "Let's eat."

They sat at the kitchen counter together. After a long meal filled with conversation, Lais went to get ready for work while Isabela cleaned the kitchen.

"I'm heading out," Lais called from the hallway. "Call me if you need anything."

"Be safe. I'm going to call the landlord and pay two months up front, then hit the grocery store."

"Don't spend everything on bills. Think about yourself for once — you need new clothes, and go get your hair and nails done."

"Fine, fine. Go." They hugged goodbye.

After Lais left, Isabela called the landlord, explained the situation, and paid two months in advance. She also covered the internet bill and left only the electricity for Lais. Then she went to the grocery store and did a proper shopping run. Back home, she put everything away, organized the apartment, and gave the whole place a deep clean. Once everything was spotless, she took a long shower, got dressed, and — with the money she'd set aside — finally did what Lais had told her to do. She bought new clothes for herself and even a gift for Lais. Then she went to a salon and got her hair and nails done. She barely recognized herself in the mirror; it had been ages since she'd taken care of herself like this. But even while treating herself, she'd taken care of every responsibility first. That was just who she was.

Back at the apartment, Isabela left Lais's gift on her bed and went to her own room. She organized her closet, swapping out the old clothes for the new ones. Then she headed to the kitchen and made an elaborate dinner — she knew Lais would come home late and starving. The food smelled incredible, but Isabela had no appetite. She covered everything, went to the living room, and turned on the TV. Hours passed and she drifted off on the couch.

Lais got home late and found her asleep there. She smiled and shook her gently, laughing.

"Were you waiting up for me?"

"Hey — I was watching a movie and passed out." Isabela stretched. "I made dinner. Want to eat?"

"You haven't eaten yet?"

"No, wasn't hungry."

"Then let's go." They went to the kitchen together. Isabela heated everything up and served them both.

"How was your day?" Isabela asked.

"Pretty calm, actually. I asked about openings at my job — they don't need anyone right now. But a coworker told me Albuquerque Holdings is hiring. It's a huge luxury and tech company."

"I've heard of them. I'll go first thing tomorrow — you never know, right?"

"Perfect timing since you look amazing. Did you buy clothes? Wear something business-formal."

"I did. And I bought you a gift."

Lais's face lit up. "Oh, I want to see it right now!" She laughed. "Thank you, seriously."

They stayed up talking a while longer, cleaned the kitchen together, and went to bed. The next morning, Isabela woke early, showered, dressed as elegantly as she could, gathered all her documents, and headed to the company.

When she arrived, the sheer luxury of the building stopped her in her tracks. She'd assumed the exterior would be the most impressive part.

She took a deep breath and walked in. With every step, she was grateful she'd dressed well.

Inside, the luxury was even more overwhelming. People glanced her up and down as she passed. Isabela assumed it was because her clothes weren't designer — but she didn't care. She was there to work. What she didn't realize was that every pair of eyes was drawn to her natural beauty and the quiet warmth she carried.

"Good morning," she said at the front desk. "My name is Isabela Leal. I'm here for the job interview."

"Good morning, Isabela. I'll take you up to the executive floor — the interviews are being held there." The receptionist led the way.

Isabela's pulse jumped. The executive floor. Whatever position this was, it had to be important. The pressure climbed, but she held her nerves steady. Despite her modest background, Isabela had always been studious — she'd finished her education and completed additional courses.

"Angela, this is Isabela Leal," the receptionist announced. "She's here for the interview."

"Hi, Isabela. I'm Angela, the CEO's personal secretary." She handed over a stack of forms. "Fill these out, return them to me, and then wait with the other candidates."

Isabela glanced around and noticed the other women in the waiting area. Most of them seemed more excited than nervous, wearing short dresses and low necklines.

She filled out the forms, handed them back to Angela, and sat down as far from the group as she could manage. Her heart was racing. She spent the wait rehearsing what she'd say in the interview, running through every possible question in her head.

"Executive floor" Waiting room

Isabela grew more nervous by the minute. Women walked into the interview with confident smiles and came out stone-faced — some in tears. While she waited, she searched for more information about the company on her phone and found news articles about the CEO: a cold, arrogant, and extremely demanding man. She was about to look at photos of him when Angela called her name.

Isabela straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair, and followed Angela down the corridor.

"The interview is with the owner himself?" she asked.

"It is. Do you know what position you're interviewing for, Isabela?"

"Not exactly. I just need a job — someone told me to come."

"Our president has a daughter. The interview is for her nanny."

Before Isabela could process that, Angela opened the door.

The CEO stood with his back to them, gazing out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at a view that only the top floor commanded.

Isabela glanced at the skyline and realized how late it had gotten. She'd been so anxious she hadn't noticed how many hours she'd been waiting.

"Please, sit down," he said without turning around.

His voice was deep and sharp enough to make her flinch. She walked slowly to the chair in front of his desk and sat down, her pulse hammering.

"I have your documents here." He turned to face her. "Have you ever worked with children, Miss Leal?"

The moment their eyes met, they both went still.

Isabela hadn't expected the CEO to look like this. Dark, intense eyes held hers with an authority that made the air feel thin. For a long, suspended second, neither of them breathed.

"Well, Mr. Albuquerque," she managed, "to be honest, I didn't look into what position this was. I came because I need a job, and I only found out a few minutes ago that it's for a nanny. As for your question — yes, I've taken care of children before."

"You came to an interview without even knowing what the position was?"

"I... Well, like I said, I need work. I don't care what the job is. I'd have come even if it were a cleaning position."

Something shifted behind his eyes — not quite approval, but something close to it.

"Here are the requirements for the role. You'll also need to complete medical exams — I won't expose my daughter to health risks." He slid a document across the desk. "Your salary is listed there as well."

Isabela read every line carefully. When she reached the salary figure, her jaw dropped. It was nearly three times what she'd earned as a sales associate.

"Everything looks great to me."

"Now, please — tell me about yourself."

He sat down across from her, and that gaze pinned her in place. She swallowed hard and began: her education, the courses she'd completed, her work history. He listened without interrupting.

"If you pass today's test, you'll be hired," he said when she finished.

"Test?"

Leonardo stood, and Isabela followed. He led her through a door at the back of his office into a private room filled with toys and decorated in soft pink tones. Isabela looked around, charmed by every detail — and then spotted a little girl sitting on the floor, completely absorbed in her toys. She was fair-skinned with brown hair and rosy cheeks.

"Go in and try to connect with her," Leonardo said from the doorway. "I'll be in my office watching through the cameras."

He left without another word.

"Unbelievable," Isabela muttered. "I thought he'd at least introduce me to the child."

She took a deep breath and walked toward the little girl. Isadora was completely focused on her game, a small doll clutched in one hand.

"Who's that lady?" Isadora asked — not to Isabela, but to her doll.

"Hi there, sweetie." Isabela knelt beside her. "I'm Isabela. What's your name?"

Isadora turned to look at her, eyes wide with curiosity.