Page 56 of Nanny for the Firefighters

His eyes narrow, scrutinizing me. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

I nod, my legs feeling like jelly. "Yeah, I just need to sleep it off. Really."

Marcus hesitates, clearly wanting to push further, but he knows better. "Okay. But if you need anything, anything at all, you come to me, alright?"

"I will," I assure him, trying to infuse my voice with more strength than I feel.

He walks me to my room, staying close but giving me the space I need. My phone is clutched tightly in my hand. Come what may, I can't let my troubles best me—even though they are clearly dressed as threats. It would be nice if my feet tried to cooperate because right about now, every step is a monumental effort. My legs wobble like jelly as I focus on reaching my room, each footfall echoing in the long, silent corridors of the manor.

When I finally reach my room, I give Marcus a brief smile. He lingers, clearly hoping for more. He's not used to my being this distant, but the situation calls for it. "I'll see you in a bit, Marcus," I tell him softly before closing the door.

My heart lurches at his crestfallen expression being the last thing I see before the door stands between us. I turn around anyway and let my settings ground me momentarily. Inside what has to be the prettiest room ever, sheer curtains billow softly in the breeze.

The windows overlook a distant ocean, the moonlight reflecting off its surface in a shimmering dance of light. The sight is soothing, especially in my current state.

I open the door to the terrace, stepping out to breathe in the cool night air. The terrace stretches along the length of the upper floor, one of many rooms that open to this serene walkway. I lean against the balustrade, letting the fresh air wash over me, hoping it will settle my churning stomach and racing mind.

It helps, but then a fresh wave of nausea overtakes all semblance of sane, measured thinking. I stumble back inside, collapsing onto my bed. The softness of the mattress is a welcome relief, and I close my eyes for a moment, willing the world to stop spinning. When I finally open them, I reach for my phone, my heart pounding with a new kind of dread.

My index finger lingers over the message from before. I open it, my breath catching in my throat as I read.

Leave Marcus. Vacate the manor. Or I expose everything.

Panic seizes me. I sit up, the room spinning slightly, my mind racing through the possibilities. The chase tonight, the near misses—could it all be connected to this threat?

Only one name ties it with all of this. Only one person stands to gain from my leaving the men and stepping back from what is the best thing to ever happen to me.

I swallow hard. I've also only just exposed Theo's ex. God. If he found out it was me, would he think I did it on purpose so I could… get with him?

A groan escapes my lips. My secret life, the one I've kept hidden from the boys, is now teetering on the brink of exposure.

I can't let this happen. I need to protect my found family, to keep them safe from the fallout of my vigilante activities. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the rising tide of fear. I need to think, to plan my next move carefully.

Another message pings. You have 24 hours.

My fingers tremble as I type a reply, trying to keep my tone neutral. Who is this?

No response. Of course not.

Of course, I have a good idea of who this is. But the question isn't regarding their identity any longer. It's about how they found out about mine.

I lie back, staring at the ornate ceiling, the delicate molding casting soft shadows in the dim light. The grandeur of my surroundings feels like a mockery of the chaos within. The beautiful room, the comforting bed, the soothing view—none of it lulls me.

I have to find a way out of this, to protect the life I've built here. But as exhaustion pulls me under, one thought remains clear. I can't let the men find out. It's stupid, really, but this is one thing that is just mine, safe from the judgment of all other living things.

If others find out, there is also the risk that they will try to dissuade me. I'm not saying they will, but I don't want to risk it. That part of my life is mine, just mine.

"Is that wrong?" I ask the walls. "Am I supposed to reveal every part of myself?"

They don't answer.

Sleep eludes me. I can't shake the sense of impending doom. I know what I must do.

With a deep breath, I grab my phone and dial Vanessa's number. As the phone rings, I brace myself for her to refuse my call or hang up. Instead, a cool, clipped voice answers.

"Ella, what a surprise," Vanessa says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I need to talk to you. In person," I say, my voice steadier than I feel.