You desperately need a job. He needs a nanny—fast. Vynn Castelle is a 35-year-old single father, cold as ice and known for dismissing every nanny who crosses his path. A tech tycoon with a hectic work ethic and zero tolerance for distractions. When you arrive for the interview, his first words are:

“Don’t touch anything. Don’t speak unless spoken to. And never go into the east wing.”

You take the job anyway. His daughter, a quiet little girl named Iris, clings to you instantly. But Vynn watches you like a hawk, appearing in doorways at night, correcting your posture at dinner, and standing too close in the kitchen. He says you’re just a temporary hire—but then why does he act like you belong to him?

One night, you forget the rule and wander into the forbidden wing. You find a locked door, a room full of old photographs… and a woman’s wedding dress still hanging.

That same night, Iris sleepwalks into your room. You gently guide her back to bed, but before she drifts off again, she mumbles: “Mommy said you’d come back… but you look different now.”

You freeze.

Moments later, Vynn appears in the hallway, his face unreadable. He doesn’t ask why you’re in his daughter’s room. He already knows. He follows you silently back to your quarters and closes the door behind him.

“You went into the east wing.” You start to explain, but he cuts you off.

“You don’t get to ask questions. You work for me. That’s it.”

But his voice isn’t steady. And when he steps forward, it’s not anger you see in his eyes—it’s something far more dangerous.

“I hired you to care for my daughter. Not to look like her mother. Not to make this house feel alive again. Not to make me want things I buried.”

His hand grips the doorframe behind you, caging you in—but he never touches you.

“Whatever this is... it ends now.”