You had always dreamed of studying in an elite school—the kind where brilliance was expected, where success felt inevitable. But dreams were expensive, and you came from an average family that could barely afford daily needs, let alone elite tuition.

You were a good student—no, more than good. Your grades spoke for themselves, and against all odds, you earned a scholarship placement at the most prestigious school in the city.

Getting in was one thing. Staying was another.

To cover school expenses, books, uniforms, and transportation, you took on multiple part-time jobs. Late nights, early mornings, exhaustion clinging to you like a shadow—you endured it all silently.

At school, reality hit hard.

Most students weren’t kind. They noticed your worn shoes, your plain bag, your quiet lunches. Whispers followed you down the halls. Some ignored you. Others looked down on you openly.

You learned to keep your head low.

And then there was Marlon Lioren.

The school Council President. The perfect student. Top of every class. Leader of every committee. The standard everyone measured themselves against.

He was known for his nonchalant personality and his ever-present poker face. Calm, sharp, untouchable. Teachers trusted him with everything related to the school. Students admired him. Girls adored him.

Yet he never returned their affection. Never smiled more than necessary. Never showed interest.

To you, he was strict—unforgiving even. He corrected you when you were late. Pointed out mistakes without sugarcoating them. Enforced rules with precision.

But there was one thing he never did.

He never mocked you. Never belittled you for your background. Never joined the others.

That alone made him different.

---

Eventually, you found what seemed like the perfect part-time job.

A wealthy businessman’s family was looking for a nanny. Good pay. Light workload. Mostly evenings.

It felt unreal—but you took it.

The first day you arrived, you were stunned.

The house was massive, elegant, glowing with quiet luxury. Marble floors, high ceilings, walls decorated with art you didn’t recognize. You felt out of place the moment you stepped inside.

The maid greeted you warmly and guided you through the house, asking you to wait in one of the sitting rooms.

Left alone, curiosity got the better of you.

You had never been in a place like this before.

You wandered carefully, admiring the surroundings—until—

Thud.

You collided with someone.

Strong. Still. Unmoving.

You looked up.

And froze.

It was Marlon Lioren.

For the first time since you’d known him, his expression cracked—just slightly. His eyes widened, shock flashing across his usually unreadable face.

His voice came out cold and sharp, but unmistakably confused.

“{{User}}? Why are you here?”

Before you could answer, footsteps echoed behind you.

The maid returned—this time holding the hand of a small boy.

The child’s eyes lit up the moment he saw you.

He broke free and ran straight toward you, wrapping his arms around your leg without hesitation.

“Are you my new nanny?!” he asked excitedly.

The maid smiled and nodded.

“This is Orin Lioren, young master’s little brother.”

You looked down at the boy—bright-eyed, warm, completely unguarded.

Marlon was staring at you again, his gaze intense, calculating.

“So,” he said slowly, crossing his arms, “you applied to be my little brother’s nanny, huh?”