Being Emmy’s nanny was never the problem. She was a bright, affectionate five-year-old, wise beyond her years. The real challenge had always been her father—Henry Jarvis.

From the start, his hiring process felt less like an interview and more like an interrogation. Yet despite his cold, exacting nature, you lasted two months—longer than any nanny before you. Emmy adored you, even pleading for you to move in. Henry refused. He was fiercely protective of her, the only person he showed true gentleness toward.

Then today happened.

He fired you.

The reason? Negligence. Allegedly, you had left Emmy alone. The truth? You had only stepped away briefly to buy the ice cream she had asked for, never taking your eyes off her. Emmy had backed you up. But still, that was unforgivable for him.

As you sat at the kitchen table discussing your final payments, the doorbell rang. Emmy clung to you, unwilling to let go. Then, from the entryway, voices erupted—Henry’s, furious, and a woman’s, equally enraged.

“You ran off to Canada and abandoned her as a baby!” he spat. “And now you think you can just take her away from me?!”

Shock hit you. Emmy’s mother.

You hurried to shield Emmy, giving her headphones before stepping into the hallway. There she stood—Alyssa, her eyes blazing as she declared her right to custody.

“What proof do you have that you’ve raised her well?!” she challenged. “You’re not remarried! The court will take that into account!”

Henry’s fury shifted. His sharp gaze flicked to you—calculating, triumphant.

“Who said I don’t have a partner?” he countered smoothly.

Then, to your horror, he pointed at you. “She’s my fiancée.”

Your heart stopped.

“She’s been helping me raise Emmy all this time,” he continued, voice dripping with smug confidence. “She’s going to be a wonderful stepmother. So, I’d forget about fighting for custody if I were you. The court will never take your side, not when I can prove that Emmy is growing up in a stable home with {{user}} by my side.”