The next morning started much like the first.
Emma Carter woke before dawn, got dressed, and made her way quietly through the east wing of the Reed mansion. She'd only been here a day, but the quiet already felt... familiar. She had a feeling this house had been silent long before she arrived.
Emily Reed, however, was anything but silent.
The moment Emma peeked into the nursery, the baby girl squealed and reached out with chubby arms, bouncing in her crib like she'd been waiting all night.
Emma (smiling): "Good morning, sunshine."
She lifted Emily into her arms, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The baby giggled and grabbed at Emma's braid.
Emma (laughing softly): "That's not a toy, Miss Emily. But I'll let it slide—just this once."
Emma changed her diaper, warmed her bottle, and played a quick round of "peekaboo" before dressing her in a lavender onesie covered in little clouds. The clock ticked toward 7:15, and Emma could already feel the nerves tightening in her stomach.
Breakfast with Alexander Reed was never just breakfast. It was a test. A silent interrogation. Every look, every pause, every word he didn't say carried weight.
She carried Emily down to the breakfast room. Alexander was already seated, black coffee in hand, tablet propped in front of him, tie and suit jacket crisp as ever.
Alexander (without looking up): "You're punctual."
Emma (walking in, calm): "I'm always punctual. It's the only thing that ever got me hired before."
He glanced at her, eyes sharp but unreadable. Then he reached out his arms. Emily lunged for him, squealing again, and nestled into his chest with total trust.
Emma couldn't help the smile that touched her lips.
Emma (softly): "She's really starting to bond with you."
Alexander (deadpan): "She's one. She bonds with whoever feeds her."
Emma (shaking her head): "That's not true. She doesn't light up like that with everyone."
Alexander said nothing. Instead, he shifted Emily into the highchair, slicing up strawberries and banana with mechanical precision.
Emma watched quietly from the side, hands folded. She wanted to help—but she'd learned quickly that Alexander Reed didn't like help he didn't ask for.
Emma (tentatively): "Would it be okay if I sat with you both? Just… to make it more comfortable for Emily?"
Alexander (coldly): "Emily's already comfortable. Are you the one who's not?"
Emma blinked. The answer stung more than she expected.
Emma (gently): "I'm just trying to support the routine. Consistency matters at this age."
He finally looked at her fully. His gray eyes were like polished stone—cool, calculating.
Alexander (quiet, but not unkind): "You think you understand what she needs better than I do."
Emma (choosing her words carefully): "I think you love her enough to try your best. I just want to help make that easier."
There was a long pause. The air felt heavy. Tense.
Then Alexander turned back to Emily, who was chewing on a slice of banana with both hands.
Alexander (flatly): "Sit, then. But don't make a habit of offering unsolicited advice."
Emma (with a small smile): "Noted, Mr. Reed."
She sat down at the other end of the table and stole a moment to glance around the room. Everything was elegant. Clinical. It felt more like a hotel than a home.
Emma wondered if that was what Alexander wanted. Or if it was what was left after loss.
---
Later that morning, Emma took Emily to the garden. Mrs. Hopkins had given her permission to use the outdoor space as long as the weather held and she stayed within the walls.
The private garden was stunning—lush grass, neatly trimmed hedges, white stone benches, and a gazebo covered in blooming wisteria. It was the first truly warm space Emma had seen in the entire estate.
She spread out a blanket on the grass and sat with Emily, letting her play with soft toys while the sun warmed their skin.
Emma (softly): "You're the sunshine in this place, you know that?"
Emily babbled happily and tried to put a stuffed bunny in her mouth.
Emma (laughing): "Well, maybe not wise sunshine yet."
They played until Emily's little eyes began to droop, and Emma rocked her gently in her arms. The baby fell asleep against her shoulder, breathing softly, her tiny fingers still tangled in Emma's braid.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Until the sound of approaching footsteps broke the calm.
Emma looked up—and froze.
Alexander was standing by the stone pathway, hands in his pockets, watching them.
Emma (surprised): "Mr. Reed? I didn't expect to see you."
Alexander (curtly): "I had a call canceled. I didn't expect to see you outside."
Emma (apologetic): "Mrs. Hopkins said the garden was allowed. I stayed within the boundaries."
Alexander (coolly): "That's not what concerns me."
Emma looked down at Emily, still asleep, then back at him.
Emma (gently): "Then what does?"
He walked closer, his steps deliberate. The sunlight caught the edge of his sharp jawline and made his expression seem even more unreadable.
Alexander (quietly): "She's never fallen asleep in someone's arms like that. Not even mine."
Emma blinked. The confession caught her off guard.
Emma (softly): "Babies feel energy. Maybe she feels safe."
Alexander (flatly): "That's the problem."
Emma's brows furrowed.
Emma: "Why would that be a problem?"
Alexander's eyes darkened, and for a moment, he looked like a man standing at the edge of something dangerous.
Alexander (low voice): "Because safety leads to attachment. And attachment leads to disappointment."
Emma stood slowly, still holding Emily.
Emma (carefully): "She's a baby, Mr. Reed. She's not expecting you to be perfect. She just needs love."
Alexander (coolly): "Love doesn't solve anything."
Emma (quietly): "It solved her tears last night."
That seemed to strike a nerve.
For a second, Alexander's gaze softened. Then he turned away, jaw clenched.
Alexander: "Bring her inside before she catches cold."
And just like that, he walked away, leaving Emma standing alone in the garden.
---
That night, Emma couldn't sleep.
She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. She was only a few days into this job, but already, she felt something shifting. Not just in Emily—but in her. In him.
Alexander Reed wasn't cruel. He was afraid. Afraid to let himself feel. Afraid that if he let anyone get close, they'd tear down the walls he'd so carefully built.
And Emma… she was knocking at those walls without even meaning to.
She rolled onto her side, sighing.
Emma (whispering to herself): "You're here for the job. Just the job. Don't get caught up in what's not yours."
But her heart whispered back something much softer.
What if you already are?