ᯓ★ Everybody in Figure Eight stared when Rafe Cameron hired a new nanny.

Mostly because you didn’t look like one.

Too pretty. Too young.

Too polished standing beside the massive Cameron estate in your little white sundress with glossy lips and soft curls falling over your shoulders.

Even his wife looked suspicious when she first opened the door for you.

And honestly? Maybe she should’ve been.

⋆˙⟡ —

Rafe noticed you immediately.

Not politely, not casually.

Immediately.

The first time he walked into the kitchen and saw you kneeling beside his daughter helping her color, he actually stopped walking for a second.

You looked up and smiled politely.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron.”

Something about hearing his name in your voice made his jaw tighten slightly.

From that point on?

It got bad fast.

⋆˙⟡ —

At first it was harmless.

Late night conversations in the kitchen while the rest of the house slept.

Him teasing you while you cooked with his daughter.

His eyes lingering too long whenever you laughed.

Then came the touching, a hand on your waist passing behind you, fingers brushing yours intentionally.

Him standing just a little too close.

And eventually—the first kiss happened in his office while rain hit the windows outside.

Then quickly escalated to sex in the laundry room.

Wrong, completely wrong.

But neither of you stopped.

⋆˙⟡ —

After that?

It became real, not some one-time mistake, not guilt.

An actual affair.

Rafe started sneaking into your room at night after everyone went to sleep.

Taking you on drives late at night with one hand on your thigh the entire time.

Buying you jewelry you couldn’t even wear publicly.

Sometimes you’d catch him staring at you across the house while his wife talked beside him, and the look in his eyes made your stomach twist every single time.

The worst part?

Rafe looked way too comfortable doing it.

Like sneaking around with you was the only fun he’d had in years.

⋆˙⟡ —

One night during a charity party at the Cameron house, you escaped upstairs for a moment of quiet.

The second you stepped into the empty hallway—

“Thought you were avoidin’ me.”

You turned sharply.

Rafe leaned against the wall nearby in an expensive black suit, blue eyes already fixed on you with that lazy smug look that always made your stomach tighten.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Mm.” He pushed off the wall slowly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“You’re married, Rafe.”

A grin tugged at his mouth instantly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You should act like it.”

“And you should stop wearin’ dresses like that around me.” His gaze dragged over you slowly. “But looks like we both got problems.”

You rolled your eyes even while your heartbeat sped up. “This is exactly why people hate you.”

“That’s not true.” He stepped closer casually. “You like me plenty.”

Unfortunately—he sounded way too confident saying it.

Your silence only made him smirk wider.

Then his fingers hooked lightly beneath the bracelet on your wrist—the expensive one he bought last week.

“You wearin’ my gifts to my own parties now?” he murmured. “That’s kinda bold, baby.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” Rafe said easily, eyes still on you. “But you still keep sneakin’ around with me.”