Monday morning dawned under a pale sky, a cool breeze that made Ariana tighten her wool coat. In front of the hallway mirror, she made sure she looked impeccable. A white silk blouse, dark dress pants, and her hair swept into a low bun that gave her an air of professionalism and calm. She dabbed on a touch more blush — the sleepless nights and the strange fluttering in her system, a peculiar tingling at the base of her belly, had left her paler than usual.
"It's just an interview, Ariana. A fresh start," she whispered to herself, avoiding the suitcase she'd already packed in her bedroom. Just in case.
She ordered a taxi through the app. While she waited, a wave of nausea forced her to sit down. It's stress, she told herself, remembering the doctor's words at the clinic. She couldn't afford to show weakness. No one at the mansion could know about the insemination. To the world, she was simply a young woman looking for steady work.
The taxi arrived ten minutes later. The driver glanced at the address on the GPS and eyed her in the rearview mirror with a raised brow.
"You're headed up to the Summit, miss? That's a private zone. The guards at the main entrance can be pretty strict."
"I have a job interview," she replied, watching through the window as the city's buildings gradually gave way to dense forests of pine and oak.
As the car climbed Summit Road, civilization seemed to dissolve. At the edge of the property, a towering gate of black iron — stamped with a stylized wolf-head emblem — blocked their path. After a quick check of her name against a digital list, the gate slid open without a sound. The mansion appeared at the end of a path flanked by stone statues: a modern Gothic structure of dark stone and immense windows that seemed to watch everything that approached.
Stepping out of the taxi, Ariana felt the air up here was different. Purer, heavy with the scent of forest and something else — something ancient and dominant that sent a shiver through her.
A middle-aged woman in a crisp housekeeper's uniform and a perfectly starched apron waited at the entrance. Her face was a blend of severity and maternal warmth.
"Good morning, Miss Ariana. I'm Martha," she said, extending a firm hand. "I've been expecting you. Please, come in."
The mansion's interior was even more imposing than its exterior. Soaring ceilings, carpets that muffled every footstep, and a silence broken only by the ticking of a grandfather clock. Martha led her to a study paneled in mahogany.
"Mr. Alexander Blackwood is currently abroad closing a major business deal," Martha explained, taking a seat across from her. "He won't return for another week. He's entrusted me with selecting the right person to care for the most valuable thing in his life: his son, Ethan. I was Alexander's nanny when he was a boy, so I know exactly what this family needs."
Ariana handed over her resume, willing her hands not to tremble. Martha reviewed it with an analytical eye.
"Your experience is solid, but this isn't an office job, Ariana. We're looking for someone to be Ethan's shadow and support. As the listing stated, the position is live-in. You'll reside here Monday through Friday. You'll have your own suite next to the child's room. Your time off will be Saturday mornings, and you must return by first thing Monday. Is that a problem?"
"Not at all," Ariana answered steadily. "In fact, the stability of a live-in position is exactly what I'm looking for. I'm fully committed to the child's care."
Martha nodded, satisfied.
"Your duties will include overseeing his meals — Ethan has a very specific, protein-rich diet — helping him with basic studies, playing with him, and most importantly, ensuring his safety. This is a large estate, and Alexander is a man with many enemies and responsibilities. Discretion is our highest law. What happens within these walls is never discussed outside them."
At that moment, the office door burst open. A small boy, about five years old, came running in. He had dark hair and intense eyes — a stormy gray-blue that reminded Ariana of the sea during a squall. She felt a strange electric jolt at the sight of him. Something in the child's gaze struck her as unnervingly familiar, though she couldn't say why.
"Martha! You said someone new was coming today!" the boy exclaimed, skidding to a halt when he spotted Ariana.
"Ethan, remember your manners," Martha chided gently, though a smile tugged at her lips. "This is Ariana. She might be your new nanny."
Ariana crouched to the boy's level and gave him a genuine, tender smile. "Hi, Ethan. I hear you've been very brave looking after this mansion while your dad's away."
The child studied her with feline curiosity. He stepped closer and suddenly wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air near her. Ariana tensed. Could he smell her fear? Or maybe the chemical shift happening inside her?
"You smell... different," Ethan said, tilting his head. "Like flowers, but also something warm. I like it."
Martha exchanged a quick look with the boy — one Ariana couldn't read.
"Children have very sharp instincts in this house, Ariana," the housekeeper remarked. "It seems you've already earned his approval, and that's ninety percent of the job."
After another hour of conversation about the household protocols, Martha stood.
"The position is yours, Miss Ariana. You may start immediately. If you have belongings in the city, we can send a driver for them, or if you've brought them along, we can get you settled now. The salary is double the market rate, given the exclusivity and live-in arrangement."
"I've brought a small suitcase. I can bring the rest next Monday," Ariana said, feeling immense relief. The salary would let her save enough for her future child, and the mansion's security would keep her far from Mateo.
"Excellent. Come, I'll show you to your quarters. Alexander will call tonight for my report. I'd suggest you familiarize yourself with Ethan's routine right away."
As she climbed the stairs behind Martha and Ethan, Ariana brushed her hand over her stomach through the fabric of her pants. We made it, she thought. She was safe inside a stone fortress, working for a man she wouldn't meet for a week. She had time to process her pregnancy in secret, to gather her strength.
What Ariana didn't know was that the Blackwood instincts were no mere childhood hunches. While she settled into her luxurious room, Ethan raced to the window to gaze at the forest, sensing a connection he couldn't explain. And thousands of kilometers away, in a glass-walled office in London, Alexander Blackwood felt a sudden pang in his chest — his wolf demanding he return home ahead of schedule. Something had changed in his territory. Someone had entered his home, and his blood was already beginning to recognize her.
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