Billionaire Secrets

New Adult Nanny Romance

By: Erica Frost

Table of Contents

Billionaire Secrets

New Adult Nanny Romance

Come Stalk Me!

Foreword

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

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HOW A LATE NIGHT AT Work Turned My Billionaire Boss Into My Lover

I was broke and desperate to keep my job.

There were so many things I hated about the world, including how dependent I was on my boss, Mr. White.

He embodied everything I thought was wrong with the world, including the fact that he hoarded his wealth while only paying me a pittance.

He was mean with it too, always making an example of me in the office when I made a mistake.

But then we changed, from enemies to lovers.

I’m stunned by how it happened, how hatred turned to lust, and how easily he made my resistance crumble.

Maybe I just wanted to have something for myself for a change, maybe being seduced by my billionaire boss is the only thing I’m going to get out of life, so I’m going to make sure I keep him.

Foreword

Sometimes, justice is blind even when you are a billionaire.

Working as a nanny for billionaire grump Dominic Hart seems to be the perfect way to put myself through college and fulfill my life’s goal: help those who were, like my father, wrongfully accused of a crime they did not commit. Some wrongs need to be set right.

When Dominic is accused of having kidnapped his business competitor, I am given an unlikely opportunity: help bury my boss and the police will reopen my father’s case. Eagerly, I agree, having no idea what I’m getting myself into.

It all becomes a rollercoaster of emotions and events, where our age gap doesn’t seem to matter and I give everything to Dominic, even my virginity. But... will that be enough to prove my love?

Billionaire Secrets

Chapter One

Lilly

This isn’t my first time in prison, and it surely won’t be my last.

I go through the usual checks, but the guards already know me. How could they not? I’ve been coming here for the last ten years. Some of these men have seen me grow up from a frightened little girl, who had no idea what happened to her father and why he was taken to this horrible, dark place, into the woman I am today, the woman who is trying her hardest to make a change in this world, which sometimes, tends to be so cruel to those who seem to be the weakest.

A guard by the name of Thomas nods at me, as he unlocks the door. I would be able to recognize the sound of prison doors unlocking anywhere. It is a different sound from regular doors or gates. It has a depth, a certain heaviness that presses upon your soul, trying to crush it, if only you allow it.

I don’t need to be shown into the visiting room. I already know where it is. I enter and the visiting room officer is there. In fact, there are three of them present now, because the visiting room is filled with people sitting opposite each other. I can see it in their eyes, how much they want to reach across the table and just touch each other’s hand, intertwine their fingers. Just that physical touch which sometimes means more than a million words ever could, but it is not allowed. All we can do is hug and kiss when we arrive and do the same when we depart. I guess we should count ourselves lucky. There are inmates who aren’t allowed to do even that.

I see my father all the way in the corner of the room, sitting at a table by the barred window. He lifts his hand shyly at me, smiling. I know he’s expecting mom to come, and he’s disappointed she didn’t join me, but he’ll do his best to try and hide it.

I walk over to him at a normal pace. He stands up, embracing me. I wrap my arms around him, and I can’t escape the feeling that every time I come see him, he feels a little less present in his own body, as if he’s losing more and more weight, but it’s not just weight. It’s like he’s losing himself in the process as well and I know I must hurry, if I want to help him.

Our hug is short, almost business-like. We both know we are being watched. Our physical contact is being counted by the seconds that have passed. When he lets go of me, he’s still smiling.

You look good, he tells me, as always.

So do you, I lie, as always.

We sit down. I know he wants to ask about mom, so I tell him immediately.

Mom had to do a double shift, I explain.

He looks worried. Your mom works too much.

I shrug. I know he feels guilty that he left us. Well, technically, he didn’t leave us. He was taken from us, stolen from us but he doesn’t see it as such. He thinks this is all his fault, although we try to assure him that it isn’t. He was wrongfully accused and convicted of a crime he didn’t commit but once you land in prison, everyone there keeps claiming that they are innocent. His voice got lost in the masses.

How are you doing? he asks me, as we start our usual dance.

I honestly don’t feel like talking about silly unimportant things. I want to keep asking him about what happened that night, although I’ve heard his version a million times. I’ve heard the other version as well, and I still couldn’t see any discrepancies, but I know I must be overseeing something. The truth is right in front of my eyes. I just can’t see it... yet but I also know that he’s had enough of telling that story over and over again. I know he wants to forget it, at least when he’s with me. He wants to try and take part in the life that I am leading outside the confines of these walls that have been keeping him separated from his family for the past ten years.

He wants to know about my life, about my studies, about my friends and the like. I can understand that. So, I comply. I tell him all about the silly, unimportant things that make up my everyday life. I tell him about the Starbucks coffee I have every morning when I go to work, because I am too lazy to get up earlier and make my own coffee at home, when I have a perfectly functional coffee machine that mom got me for my birthday when I started college. Her reasoning was that I would be up late often, and I needed a good cup of coffee to keep my focus going.

Dad agreed. When mom and I told him about that present, I could see how sad he was that he missed yet another birthday, yet another gift giving. There were now so many missed, stolen moments, which none of us will ever get back but we keep looking forward, into the future, hoping for a better tomorrow, which can only come if we ourselves work on it, instead of expecting someone else to do it for us.

How’s work? he asks, after I told him that my classes are over for the semester and I have a few exams to take, then I can rest for a month.

It’s great, I nod, smiling. Marley is such a sweet, clever kid. I never thought a ten-year-old could be so intelligent.

You were also a clever ten-year-old, he tells me. I can see that sparkle of love in his eyes. I can sense how much he misses both me and mom, and it kills me every time, that a man such as my father, who would never hurt a fly, ended up in a place like this, just because they couldn’t prove that he was innocent.

I think such intelligence in children can only come out of some sad event, I reveal, referring to the fact that Marley lost her mother.

Her sad event was the death of a parent, while mine was the incarceration of one. In both cases, something happens to you, something that changes the reality of your life in a way you never thought possible, in a way you can’t really understand, and it takes a long time for you to accept it. In Marley’s case, it is still noticeable in her speech and mannerisms, although she seems to have accepted the fact that her mother is gone. I wonder if one ever accepts such a thing, especially a child.

She is lucky to have someone like you, my father tells me.

I am just her nanny, I shrug.

In her case, a nanny is many things. Her father is a busy man. I guess every billionaire is. He has so much to think about, so much to control. I wonder what that must feel like, to have so much power and control over the fates of others.

Although it is obvious that everything he does, he does for her. Even though he should be doing less sometimes and just be with her more. That would mean more to her than any presents ever could but it’s not my place to make such comments.

Is her father a good employer? I hear my dad ask.

I guess, I shrug again. We aren’t really talking much, apart from the usual exchange of pleasantries when I come and before I leave home.

I skip the fact that upon seeing him for the first time, my jaw almost dropped to the floor. I wasn’t expecting him to be so handsome. After all, he is well in his late thirties, making that quite an age gap between us. Sometimes, I wonder what we would even talk about if we ever found ourselves in such a situation. He seems to be the grumpy type, which is exactly the kind of people I usually don’t like around me but there is something about him, something mysterious and brooding; something that I admit, keeps me up late at night.

I wonder about him. We all like to enshroud these mysterious people into realities where they don’t belong. He and I couldn’t be further apart, and yet, we share some parts of our realities together. That, in itself, makes him someone strangely relevant in my life, and as such, I can’t but not think about him. Those aren’t romantic feelings, but rather, it is my mind trying to decipher who he is.

He’s very respectful and keeps his distance, I add for my dad’s peace of mind, and I guess, for my own as well. If he were one of those charming types that flirts with everything that has a skirt, I doubt I would feel comfortable enough to work for him. I just don’t like that type and I don’t want to be around them. His desire to keep things professional at all times suits me just fine. However, it makes me even more curious about him, which isn’t all that good, but at least, that curiosity is under control.

That’s good, my dad nods, glancing out of the window to his left. The sun is illuminating his face, which looks far older than his years. I resist the temptation to reach over and caress his cheek. My heart breaks every time I come here, and I always spend a minute crying in the car as soon as I leave. It is just my way of dealing with the pain, with the heartbreak. Then, after that minute passes, I can go back to the usual grind and the goal I have set for myself.

We continue talking about mom and how she burned the last batch of cupcakes. He laughs. It’s the laugh that makes his eyes sparkle, because he remembers how bad mom is at making any kind of cakes and cookies, but she always keeps trying. That is where I get my persistence from, my mom and my dad.

We talk for a few minutes longer, then the guard informs us that we only have a minute left. I know what that means. It is just enough to give him a goodbye hug and then I go back to my car to cry for one minute. Sometimes, it is hard to keep the tears from flooding while I’m still hugging him. I don’t want to let go. Every time I touch him, it feels like it might be the last time. He smiles, kissing me on the cheek.

Same time next week? he asks with the heartbreaking hope in his voice.

You know it, I smile back, fighting back the tears.

As soon as I’m in my car, my eyes are flooded. I let the tears roll down my cheek freely. I need to get it out of my system, all that pain and heartbreak. Once I am able to inhale properly, I check my watch. It’s time to pick up Marley from school.

Chapter Two

Dominic

I check my Rolex, and it tells me I’m late.

It’s the first special thing I bought when the first big deal pulled through. I still remember the goosebumps, the feeling I never wanted to share with anyone. I was trembling with excitement as the old salesman with the look of a thousand sales in his eyes, started showing me the newest models. I remember thinking he might not recognize me as someone who could afford it, despite my Burberry shirt and a tailor-made suit by none other than William Westmancott himself. I still had a few doubts left, lingering in the back of my mind, but that old man didn’t. I have been a returning customer ever since, and this evening, yet again, that same watch told me I was late.

I promised Marley I wouldn’t be, but sometimes these meetings drag on endlessly. I grab my phone off the desk and rush out. There are a few people still left in the building. I nod to all of them on my way to the elevator, although I don’t know each and every one of them by name. I make a mental note to find out. Those are the kind of people I want to give the right incentive to. They’re the driving force of this company.

The traffic on the way home is unusually light and I manage to arrive sooner than anticipated. I unlock the door, smelling the pleasant aroma of spaghetti and meatballs in tomato sauce, Marley’s favorite.

As soon as I open the door, I see her at the end of the hallway. She is running towards me with her arms wide open. Everything fades away into