AURORA:
Aurora barely slept that night.
Not because the house was noisy. Not because Isabella had woken up crying the way she sometimes did. The house had been completely silent, almost painfully quiet, as if it were holding its breath after something important had almost happened.
Aurora stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, replaying the same moment over and over again in her head.
Luca was standing in front of her.
That look in his eyes that she had never seen before.
The way he had stepped closer like he wasn't even thinking anymore, like something stronger than logic had taken over for just a few seconds. And the worst part wasn't that he had almost kissed her.
It was that she hadn't stepped away.
Aurora turned slightly on the bed and closed her eyes tightly, hoping the memory would fade if she ignored it long enough.
It didn't.
Instead, it became clearer.
The warmth of the room. The quiet sound of his breathing. The way her heart had been beating so loudly she had been afraid he would hear it.
She exhaled slowly and pressed her palm lightly against her chest.
"This is a job," she whispered to herself. "Just a job. Nothing more."
The words didn't sound convincing, even to her own ears.
She finally gave up trying to sleep when the sky outside the window started turning pale. The morning light in the house was always soft, almost gentle, but today it felt different. Everything looked the same, yet something inside her had changed.
Aurora sat up slowly and ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm the restless feeling inside her chest.
She had never been the kind of person who got confused easily. Life had taught her to stay strong, to remain calm, and to focus on what was real, rather than what felt good in the moment. Feelings were dangerous when you didn't have the luxury of making mistakes.
And Luca was definitely a mistake she could not afford.
Not because he was a bad man. That would have been easier to handle. If he had been arrogant, cruel, careless — she would have known exactly how to deal with him. She would have stayed quiet, done her work, and left when the contract ended without thinking twice.
But he wasn't like that.
He was distant, yes. Cold sometimes. Hard to understand. But there were moments — small ones that most people would probably miss — when something softer appeared in his eyes, something that made her feel like he was fighting a battle no one else could see.
That was what made everything complicated.
Aurora stood up quietly and opened the door slowly, making sure not to make any noise. The hallway was still empty, the large house silent except for the faint sound of the air conditioning and the quiet ticking of the clock downstairs.
She walked toward Isabella's room first.
Not because she had to. Because she wanted to.
The door was slightly open, just the way she had left it the night before. Aurora pushed it gently and stepped inside.
Isabella was still sleeping.
The little girl lay curled under the blanket, her small hand wrapped around the stuffed rabbit she never seemed to leave behind. Her hair covered part of her face, and her breathing was slow and peaceful, the kind of sleep that only children managed to have when they finally felt safe.
Aurora leaned slightly against the doorframe and watched her for a few seconds without moving.
She didn't know when she had started caring this much.
At first, Isabella had just been part of the job. A quiet child who needed attention. Someone Aurora had promised herself she would treat gently, but nothing more than that.
Now it felt different.
Now every small thing mattered. Whether the girl slept well. Whether she smiled more than the day before. Whether she spoke a little louder or asked more questions than usual. Aurora noticed everything without trying.
And that scared her more than anything that had happened the night before.
Because caring about Isabella meant caring about the life Isabella belonged to.
And that life included Luca.
Aurora walked quietly into the room and carefully pulled the blanket higher around the child's shoulders. Isabella moved slightly but didn't wake up. Aurora brushed the hair away from her face gently and stepped back again.
"Just a job," she whispered again, almost like she was trying to remind herself.
But this time, the words sounded weaker.
She went downstairs slowly, still trying to organise her thoughts before the day began properly. The kitchen felt colder than usual when she entered it. Not physically cold — emotionally cold, the way large houses sometimes felt when there were too many memories inside them and not enough laughter to balance them.
Aurora filled the kettle and placed it on the stove, focusing on something simple just to calm her mind. The quiet sound of water heating was strangely comforting. It gave her something real to focus on instead of the chaos inside her head.
She reached for a cup without thinking too much about it.
That was when she heard footsteps behind her.
Aurora froze instantly.
She didn't turn around right away. She didn't need to. Something inside her already knew who it was.
The footsteps were slow. Controlled. Calm in a way that made her feel more nervous than if they had been loud.
Luca.
"Good morning," he said.
His voice sounded normal. Too normal.
Aurora turned slowly and nodded once.
"Good morning."
That was it.
Two simple words. No tension in the tone. No anger. No mention of what had almost happened the night before.
And somehow, that felt worse than if he had brought it up directly.
Aurora picked up the cup again just to have something to do with her hands.
"You're up early," she said quietly.
"I didn't sleep much."
The honesty of the answer surprised her.
Aurora looked at him for a second before looking away again.
"Me neither."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy in the usual way. It was something else entirely. Something quieter, more fragile, like one wrong word could break whatever balance still existed between them.
Luca walked further into the kitchen and stopped near the table, his eyes moving briefly toward the window before returning to her.
"We shouldn't have done that," he said quietly.
Aurora felt her heart tighten immediately.
He hadn't said the word kiss. He hadn't described the moment. But she knew exactly what he meant.
She swallowed slowly.
"We didn't," she replied softly. "Nothing happened."
Luca didn't answer right away.
"That's not the point," he said finally.
Aurora looked down at the cup in her hands, her fingers tightening slightly around it.
"I know."
Neither of them moved for a few seconds.
The air between them felt different now — not cold, not warm, just uncertain. Like both of them were trying to pretend something hadn't changed when it clearly had.
Aurora forced herself to breathe slowly.
"I'm here to take care of Isabella," she said quietly. "That's the only thing that matters."
The words hurt more than she expected.
Because they sounded like a lie.
Luca watched her carefully, his expression unreadable.
"I don't want things to become complicated," he said.
Aurora nodded once.
"They won't."
Another lie.
And both of them knew it.
Footsteps upstairs broke the silence before either of them could say anything else.
Isabella.
Aurora turned immediately, almost relieved for the interruption. The tension in the kitchen disappeared the moment the small voice called her name from the top of the stairs.
"Aurora?"
Aurora stepped out of the kitchen instantly.
"I'm here," she replied softly.
And just like that, the conversation ended — unfinished, unresolved, and far more dangerous than before. Aurora didn't look back at Luca when she stepped into the hallway.
If she did, she was afraid she would see something in his face that would make everything harder than it already was. Instead, she focused on the small sound of Isabella's footsteps coming down the stairs slowly, one careful step at a time.
The little girl looked tired, her hair slightly messy, the stuffed rabbit still in her hand like it always was when she first woke up.
Aurora smiled gently.
"Good morning," she said softly.
Isabella walked the last few steps and stopped right in front of her, looking up with those quiet eyes that always seemed to be searching for something.
"Good morning," the child replied.
Aurora bent down slightly and fixed the sleeve of her pajamas without thinking too much about it.
"Did you sleep well?"
Isabella nodded.
Aurora could feel Luca standing behind her, silent, watching everything. She didn't need to turn around to know that. His presence filled the hallway in a way that made it impossible to forget he was there.
"Do you want breakfast first," Aurora asked gently, "or do you want to sit with me for a few minutes before we go to the kitchen?"
Isabella hesitated, then slowly reached for Aurora's hand.
Aurora felt something in her chest soften immediately.
"Sit first," the little girl said quietly.
Aurora nodded and led her toward the sofa in the living room. The house was still calm, still quiet, but the silence no longer felt heavy now that Isabella was awake. The child's presence had a way of making everything feel more real, more normal, like the tension between adults didn't matter as much when she was around.
Aurora sat down carefully, letting Isabella lean against her without saying anything about it.
She didn't need to speak. The small warmth of the child beside her said more than words ever could.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
Aurora's eyes drifted toward the large window across the room, but her mind wasn't focused on the view outside. It was focused on something much closer — the quiet trust Isabella was showing her.
And suddenly, the memory of the night before came back stronger than before.
Luca is standing close.
The silence between them.
The feeling that something was about to change in a way neither of them could stop.
Aurora closed her eyes for a second, forcing herself to breathe normally again.
"You're thinking too much," she whispered to herself.
"What?" Isabella asked.
Aurora smiled slightly.
"Nothing," she said gently. "Just grown-up problems."
The child nodded like she understood, even though she probably didn't.
LUCA:
Luca had always been in control.
That was how he survived.
Control over his life.
Control over his decisions.
Control over his emotions.
Aurora disrupted all of it.
He stood in his office, staring at nothing.
The memory replayed again.
She's not stepping away.
That was the problem.
Not the almost-kiss.
Her trust.
She's calm.
"You're not listening."
Matteo's voice cut through his thoughts.
"I heard you."
"No, you didn't."
Luca turned.
"What do you want?"
Matteo studied him.
"You're distracted."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Silence.
"It's the nanny," Matteo said.
Luca didn't react.
But Matteo saw enough.
"She's affecting you."
"It doesn't matter."
"It will."
Luca exhaled slowly.
"She's temporary."
Matteo raised a brow.
"Then why are you thinking about her like she isn't?"
No answer.
Because there wasn't one.
Later that night, back at the house, Luca watched again.
Aurora with Isabella.
Calm.
Steady.
Safe.
And that was the problem.
Because Isabella needed that.
And Luca…
did too.
He looked away.
Too late.
Standing alone later, he realised something he didn't want to admit.
Aurora wasn't just changing the house.
She was changing him.
And that was something he didn't know how to control.