Vivian had always been two things: patient and dangerous.
Pretty faces and designer bags were just decoration. Her real power was subtle. Like perfume that only burned when you got too close.
She knew how to play the long game.
And her first move? Leverage.
Which is why she was now sitting at an expensive rooftop café, sipping iced coffee across from Elijah Harte — Ryder's former classmate and the person Ryder hated most on this planet.
He had charm and snake-like grace, but there was something too polished about him. Like he smiled just a second too long.
Vivian tapped her nails on the glass. "You said you had something."
Elijah smiled like a fox. "Something, someone. She's pretty. New. Very defensive about her job as a nanny."
Vivian leaned in. "You talked to Scarlett?"
He shrugged. "Bumped into her at campus. She's witty. Rude, even. I liked her. But that's not what I came for."
Vivian narrowed her eyes. "Then what?"
Elijah slid his phone across the table. On the screen: a photo.
Scarlett walking beside a professor — one known for shady scholarship favors.
Vivian blinked. "What's this?"
"She used to clean his office. At least that's what she said when I asked why she was always seen leaving it after hours."
Vivian's mouth curled into a cruel smile. "Rumors can go far. Especially ones with just enough truth to sting."
Elijah took another sip of his coffee. "You want me to start the fire?"
"No," Vivian said. "I'll do it myself."
---
Meanwhile – The Mansion
Scarlett laughed as Ryder dramatically reenacted a scene from a bad soap opera in the kitchen, using a spoon as a microphone and an apron as a cape.
"Stop!" she gasped. "You're embarrassing."
"That's the idea," Ryder grinned. "If I make you cringe enough, you'll forget how stressful your class is."
Scarlett shook her head but smiled.
Things felt… easy lately.
Too easy.
---
Later That Night – Campus
A message spread like spilled ink:
> "Scarlett Mendez—nanny by day, professor's favorite by night?"
A post followed: vague screenshots, twisted comments, just enough to spark suspicion.
By morning, her name was whispered in every hallway.
---
Scarlett's Phone – Incoming Call: UNKNOWN
She picked up, heart thudding.
> "Hope you're enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame," Vivian's voice purred. "Should've stayed in your lane, sweetheart."
Scarlett gripped the phone.
"You did this."
"Of course I did. And if you think Ryder's going to choose the girl dragging his name through dirt, you're delusional."
"I'm not scared of you."
Vivian laughed. "Oh, honey. You should be."
---
~~~
Campus buzzed.
Phones lit up with rumors.
Screenshots. Twisted captions. A blurry photo of Scarlett walking beside a professor taken completely out of context — paired with words like "extra credit queen" and "nanny by day, sugarbaby by night."
Scarlett walked through the halls like a ghost, ignoring the stares, the snickering. Her jaw was tight, eyes forward.
She didn't cry.
But she burned.
It was her third class of the day when she felt someone tap her shoulder — hard.
Vivian.
"I told you," Vivian whispered with a poisonous smile. "You're not one of us."
Scarlett turned slowly, fists clenched.
But before she could speak—
A voice rang out.
"Hey!"
The entire hallway turned.
Ryder.
Tall, confident, leaning against the lockers like a scene from a movie — only this wasn't a performance.
His eyes locked on Vivian.
"You know what's sad?" Ryder said, voice calm but laced with danger. "When someone can't take a hint so they tear down the one person who was never pretending."
Vivian stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
He walked forward, step by step, ignoring the crowd growing around them.
"You spread a lie about Scarlett. A gross, pathetic one."
Vivian scoffed. "Don't be naïve, Ryder. She was—"
"She was working." Ryder's voice dropped cold. "Cleaning offices, studying late, juggling jobs. You think that's embarrassing? That makes her stronger than anyone I know."
Gasps. Whispers. Phones recording.
He turned now to the crowd.
"In case any of you missed it, Scarlett Mendez is my nanny. Yes. And she's smarter, more honest, and more real than most of you ever will be."
Silence.
Then Ryder looked back at Scarlett — his expression gentler now.
"She doesn't need me to fight her battles. But I'm not gonna stand here while people twist the truth and try to break her."
Vivian's face turned red with fury. "You're humiliating yourself."
"No," Ryder said. "I'm finally doing something right."
He reached out, took Scarlett's hand — in front of everyone.
Scarlett blinked, speechless.
People around them murmured. Filmed. But none of it mattered.
Not when he leaned in just enough to whisper, "Let them watch."
Scarlett squeezed his hand back.
Let them.
___
The hallway had gone quiet.
Vivian stood frozen as Scarlett and Ryder walked off together, fingers interlaced. People whispered around her, but she only heard the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears.
She'd lost the crowd.
And worse… she'd lost him.
But this wasn't over.
---
Later That Evening — Crestwell Mansion
Vivian didn't wait for an invitation.
She barged into Ryder's house like she owned it — like she used to — her heels clicking against the marble floors.
"Ryder!" she snapped, storming into his room. "We need to talk."
Ryder was sitting on his bed in a hoodie and joggers, calmly texting someone — probably Scarlett. He didn't look up.
"You let me be humiliated."
"No," Ryder said, cool and emotionless. "You humiliated yourself."
Vivian's voice sharpened. "I was trying to protect you. That girl is nothing! She's poor, she's rude, she has nothing to offer you but problems—"
Ryder stood.
All calmness dropped from his face.
"Don't ever talk about her like that again."
Vivian blinked. "You're defending her? After everything I've done for you?"
"What, exactly, have you done for me, Vivian?" Ryder asked. "Lie? Gossip? Throw tantrums when you don't get your way?"
"I was here first."
"And you should've left first too," he said sharply.
She flinched.
"You want the truth?" Ryder asked. "I don't love you. I haven't in a long time. You were a habit. Something easy. Something expected. But Scarlett?" He exhaled slowly. "Scarlett is real."
Vivian's voice cracked. "She'll never fit into your world."
"I don't want someone who fits into my world," Ryder said. "I want someone who makes me want to be better than this world."
That shut her up.
Silence filled the room.
Vivian's breath hitched. For the first time in forever, she looked… small.
Not powerful. Not composed.
Just hurt.
But Ryder didn't move to comfort her.
Because this was the goodbye.
Vivian turned stiffly, heels clicking as she walked out.
She didn't slam the door.
That wasn't her style.
But Ryder stared at it for a long time after she left, something heavy in his chest.
---
Meanwhile — Scarlett's Room
Scarlett sat at her small desk, staring at the same text over and over again.
> "You okay?"
It was from Ryder.
She hadn't replied yet.
Because she wasn't sure what she was.
Confused?
Flattered?
Angry?
Hopeful?
All of it.
He had defended her in front of everyone. Called her smart. Strong. Real.
And he'd held her hand like he meant it.
Scarlett ran her fingers across the screen, took a deep breath, and typed:
> "I'm okay. Thanks for standing up for me… even when I didn't ask you to."
She stared at it for a second, then hit send.
Moments later, her phone lit up again.
> "Get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."
And somehow, that scared her more than any of Vivian's threats.
Because Ryder Sinclair — the careless, arrogant playboy — was starting to feel dangerously real.
------
The next few days were… weird.
Not bad. Not good.
Just weird.
Scarlett wasn't used to being the center of attention — and definitely not in a good way. One moment she was "that rude nanny," the next, she was the girl Ryder Sinclair defended like she was his.
Rumors hadn't died down, but they'd shifted.
Now, people weren't whispering about scandal — they were whispering about romance.
Which might've been worse.
At the mansion, the teasing hadn't stopped.
Mason, Ryder's cousin and chaos incarnate, leaned against the kitchen counter one morning, spooning cereal into his mouth and smirking.
"So, Miss Nanny... did he propose yet? Or just gift you a personalized hoodie and his undying loyalty?"
Scarlett rolled her eyes and dumped pancake batter onto the griddle. "You're not funny."
"I'm hilarious," Mason said. "You're just in denial. That boy is gone for you."
"Shut up and get the syrup."
"No need to be violent," Mason grinned, tossing her the syrup.
Ryder walked in then, barefoot, messy-haired, wearing a loose black T-shirt that made him look like a walking Calvin Klein ad.
Scarlett looked away. Immediately.
"Morning," Ryder said, voice still hoarse from sleep.
Scarlett gave a small nod. "Morning."
They didn't speak more than that — not with Mason hovering.
But her heart thudded the whole time.
---
Later That Day – Upstairs Hallway
Scarlett was adjusting a flower vase on one of the hallway tables when she heard someone behind her.
She turned.
Ryder.
Alone.
Again.
He leaned against the wall, watching her with a lazy smile. "You're ignoring me."
"No, I'm not."
"You're avoiding me, then."
"I have work to do."
He tilted his head. "Why do you act like I kissed you or something?"
Scarlett's face flamed. "You didn't."
"Should I have?"
She froze.
He smirked, reading her reaction too easily.
"I'm kidding... mostly," he said, walking closer. "But I meant what I said. About you. That day at school."
"I didn't ask you to do that."
"I know. That's what makes it better."
Scarlett crossed her arms. "Why are you being nice to me?"
He shrugged. "Because I like you."
"You like flirting. There's a difference."
Ryder stepped closer. "Scarlett, I flirt with everyone. I only look at you."
That shut her up.
She stared at him for a long moment, unsure whether to slap him or blush.
She chose neither.
"Well," she said, voice quiet, "if you keep saying stuff like that, I might start believing you."
"I'm counting on it."
She turned away — but this time, there was a smile tugging at her lips.
---
That Night – Scarlett's Room
She lay on her bed, thinking about everything — the hallway moment, the look in his eyes, the ease in his voice.
He was still a playboy. Still dangerous.
But maybe… just maybe…
She didn't mind the danger as much as she used to.
And for the first time in weeks, she fell asleep smiling.
---
It started with curiosity.
Scarlett hadn't meant to follow him.
But when Ryder left that Saturday morning without a snarky comment or his usual lazy smirk, she knew something was off.
He was dressed simply. Dark hoodie, jeans, no jewelry, no entourage. No car screeching out of the driveway. Just... quiet footsteps and a focused look.
Scarlett hesitated only a moment before grabbing her jacket and slipping out after him.
---
Later – Crestville Medical Center
Scarlett lingered behind a pillar at the hospital entrance, chewing the inside of her cheek.
What are you doing, Scarlett? You're his nanny, not his stalker.
But her feet didn't move.
Something told her this mattered.
She watched Ryder disappear through the automatic doors like he'd done it a thousand times before. No drama. No pretending. Just... slipping into a place no one would expect him to be.
She followed.
Inside, the sterile white lights hummed above her as she scanned the lobby. Ryder had already disappeared around a corner. Her feet moved instinctively.
Then, she found him.
And everything changed.
---
He was in the children's wing.
Sitting on the floor, cross-legged, surrounded by tiny kids with oxygen tubes, wheelchairs, and IVs. A little girl with no hair was braiding pieces of his hoodie string like it was her full-time job.
Scarlett froze behind a doorframe, peeking through the glass window.
Ryder was smiling — not smirking, not charming, not flirting.
Just smiling.
The real kind.
He read a book in a silly voice. Let a toddler drive a toy car over his knees. Laughed, full and soft, like the world didn't expect anything from him in that moment.
"Sinclair!" one of the nurses called, entering with a tray. "We've got Jell-O or apple slices, doctor's orders!"
"Jell-O, obviously," Ryder said, standing and gently lifting one of the kids into a chair. "Apple slices are just crunchy lies."
Scarlett couldn't breathe.
The Ryder she knew—the school flirt, the arrogant rich boy who always had a comeback—was nowhere to be found here.
This boy was... kind.
Quietly kind.
The kind of kind that didn't need a camera.
---
Outside – Twenty Minutes Later
Scarlett waited by the curb, her heart still thudding in her ears. She didn't even know what she was going to say. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
When Ryder stepped out of the hospital and spotted her, he froze.
"Scarlett?"
"Hey," she said, trying to sound casual. "You were... gone. I was bored."
Ryder blinked. "You followed me?"
"I—no—okay, yes. But not in a creepy way."
He raised a brow.
"Okay," she added. "Maybe a little creepy. But I saw you in there."
He looked away. Shrugged. "So?"
"So…" she took a step closer. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
He paused. "Because I didn't do it for you to know."
Scarlett's chest tightened.
He looked at her now, really looked.
"I come here every month. Some of those kids don't have visitors. Or parents who stay long. So I go. I've been going since my brother—" He stopped himself. Exhaled. "It's not something I talk about."
Scarlett swallowed. "You're not who I thought."
He smiled, tired. "Isn't that the point?"
For the first time since she started working at the mansion, she wasn't sure what to say to Ryder Sinclair.
Because the real version of him—the one she'd just seen—was so much more than she expected.
And more dangerous to her heart than she realized.
---