The Nanny Affair

Elena paced slowly in the hallway, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she glanced once more at the clock hanging on the white wall.

9:00 a.m. And there was still no sign of him.

She let out a quiet sigh, the kind that came from overthinking too early in the morning. For hours, she had tiptoed through the penthouse, making breakfast, setting the table perfectly, aligning the silverware like she'd seen in those glossy hotel magazines. But the food remained untouched, and so did the silence.

With a resigned breath, Elena turned toward the dining section, ready to begin clearing up, when her phone buzzed on the marble countertop.

It was a FaceTime call.

She blinked at the screen when she saw the person.... Quickly, she straightened her posture and swiped to accept.

"Hello, Miss Rivera," Mr Chris' voice came through, smooth and polite.

"Good morning," Elena greeted, bowing her head slightly. "Sir."

"How was your first night?" he asked with a professional smile.

"It was nice," she replied, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips.

"Glad to hear that." His eyes scanned her background through the screen. "Oh, did you prepare breakfast for Mr Hughston?"

Elena nodded, glancing instinctively toward the corridor. "Yes, but... he's yet to come downstairs."

Mr Chris waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, you needn't have gone through the trouble. Mr Hughston returned to one of his other residences late last night. Likely won't be back until his son arrives."

"Oh," Elena said, blinking, unsure how to respond.

"Now, the reason I called," he continued briskly. "I need you to check the storage room. Just past the service hallway on the east wing. You'll see a grey keypad on the door."

She reached for a notepad nearby. "Okay, and what am I looking for in there?"

"There are boxes.... please be very careful with them. Inside, you'll find framed photos of young Hughston and his mother. A few of Mr Hughston's wedding frames as well. Kindly hang some of them in his suite and place a few around the living area. We're trying to make the space feel a bit more... homely, before his son returns."

Elena paused for half a second.

"Okay okay" she said.

Mr Chris nodded. "Do take care. Some of the frames are originals. Don't break anything."

"Yes, sir. I'll get started right away."

He gave her a short nod before the call ended.

With a slow turn she made her way to the storage area, which quiet didn't even look like the normal storage we're used to, it was neat and in order.. she moved inside glancing around and noticed something almost brand new that appeared to have never been opened or used for a second, and dumped..... she walked a bit inside and saw exactly what Mr Chris described... carefully she raised it, removed the frames from each box which was about 6...

She slowly gazed at it as she saw a beautiful picture of little Hughston and her mom, they looked adorable but expensive. When she turned to the next one, it was a wedding photo of them...

Mr Hughston had a bright smile, she never thought he could even smile... After a few glances at the family photos, she placed them on a troll and dragged them out from there.

..................

Welcome Mr. Damien Hughston," the man said with a respectful nod as Damien stepped down from the helicopter.

He didn't respond just a curt nod back as he adjusted himself and followed the man across the gravel path. The area was marked "Private Access Only," and the weight of its silence said enough. Nature had reclaimed most of the grounds, but the structure ahead stood still untouched.

"This is the same spot where the crash happened," the supervisor muttered as they walked toward the gated section. "Everyone survived... except her."

Damien's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he said nothing.

"I know how much you loved your wife, Mrs Victoria," the man added quietly.

With a sharp sigh and a subtle eye roll, Damien walked ahead. He scanned the perimeter, checked the restored fence lines, paused near the crash marker, then headed into the small facility beside it.

Inside, he reviewed the reports laid out on a table. No new findings. Just maintenance logs and security updates. He barely glanced through them.

After a few minutes, the car they had used to pass through the narrow trails

Came to a stop and Damien stepped out.

"Thank you for coming again, sir," the guard said, offering a quick handshake.

Damien took it without emotion, then walked straight back to the waiting helicopter.

With no look back

Sitting inside the helicopter as it soared high above the hills, Damien leaned back, eyes half-closed. The wind outside roared softly, but inside his head, it was quieter. And a memory rushed in...

"No, I can't do this anymore with you, Damien,"

Victoria's voice echoed in his head as she gently pulled away from his touch.

"You know how much I love you, Vic. Why do you want to break this marriage off?"he said as he reached for her again. But she had already taken a step back.

"I fell out of love with you, Damien... I... I'm sorry. I didn't get the attention, the affection I needed from you after we got married. Please... understand and move on.".

That was the first time she looked at him like a stranger.

"We can fix this,, we can always do that" he'd said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "We can rebuild. I know I've been a workaholic, but I'll slow down.... for you. For our son. Just give me one more chance."

She had swallowed hard, then took another step back.

"No, Damien. Let it go. For the sake of our son, we can stay under one roof... but in separate rooms. Until everything is finalized."

And just like that, she turned and walked away.

After that, things were cold. Nods instead of words. Awkward silence in shared spaces. She only spoke around their son... smiling just enough to keep him from asking questions. But when the boy wasn't around, the silence between them was louder than any argument.

Eventually, she moved out. Even before the divorce was finalized. Damien hadn't protested, not even when she asked for nearly half of everything he owned.

He just gave it up to her...

But then... that night... He went to free his mind

The masked ball. The champagne. The way the lady had looked at him through that gold-trimmed mask. Like he mattered. Like she wanted him.

Skin on skin, her soft moans, the way she clung to him.. unfiltered, raw as they made out... It hadn't felt like a stranger in his arms. It felt like fate trying to give him a second chance.

That morning, his head had throbbed slightly from the drinks, but it wasn't what woke him. It was the silence again.

He rolled over to her side of the bed. She was still there, her chest rising and falling gently in sleep. Her mask was still on. Every other layer had fallen but that one piece stayed.

Curiosity nudged him forward. He reached out, fingers brushing the edge of the mask, ready to see the woman who had stirred something in him after so long...

Then his phone buzzed.

"Hello?"

"Mr Hughston, I'm sorry to inform you.. Your wife was in an accident..."

In a second, everything changed. He had bolted out of that hotel room, still half-dressed, without even looking back at her in the bed.

Back in the present, Damien blinked out of the memory. The helicopter hummed beneath him as it cut through the clouds.

He looked out the window at the high view, the world so small beneath him.