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"And through this, our ultimate goal is to directly work with small artisans and bring their work to a global audience," the startup founder says.

I glance up to see that everyone at the conference table is looking at me. I click my pen against the table, trying to remember some points from the startup pitch.

Alongside my real estate ventures, I'm also a venture capitalist. But instead of listening to the pitch, I've been daydreaming about the nanny.

"There are many sustainability-based initiatives like yours," I say. "What sets you apart from the others?"

He's ready with an answer, telling me about his vetting process and loyalty program.

There's the glow of youth in his eyes. He's passionate about the company he built. I was like him once—all glittery-eyed and bushy-tailed. I thought the world was my oyster and I would get everything I desired.

And I did.

I got everything I ever wanted, but none of it made me happy. Not really. The taste of success only increased my wants and needs. Nothing was ever enough.

It was too late by the time I realized I was chasing the wrong things.

I don't know if this young man will end up like me, but I know he has what it takes. He has a solid plan, and more importantly, he has guts. If he plays his cards right, I'll make a good return on my investment.

I nod at my assistant. She approves the startup on my behalf.

"I don't know what to say," the young man says. His face is flushed with joy. "Thank you so much, Mr. Sinclair."

I stand and walk away from the table.

The second I'm alone again, I'm thinking about her. I'm thinking about how soft and pliable she felt under my touch. And that short fucking skirt. It made my hands itch to do more than just hold her waist.

Lust is something I understand.

What I don't understand is the protectiveness I've started to feel for her. Ever since I learned about her past, I felt the need to protect her from everything that wishes to cause her harm.

I want to be that person for her. I want to be someone she can count on.

I want to be someone I can never be.

As I arriveat the mansion, the warm scent of freshly baked cookies drifts through the air.

I follow the aroma to the kitchen, where I find Emma decorating cookies with icing. Her long hair is tied back in a bun, but some errant strands have escaped to frame her face. Her cheeks are flushed from the oven's heat.

She looks as sweet as the cookies she's working on.

I stay hidden in the shadows as I watch her work.

She's in her element right now.There's pure focus in her eyes as her hand glides over the cookies, switching between the different colors.

"Hello, Klaus," a voice calls out from behind me.

Emma's gaze snaps to mine. Helena walks around me to enter the kitchen. Sheplaces a shaker of rainbow-colored sprinkles on the island.

"Hello, Helena," I say, keeping my eyes on Emma.

"You're home early today," Helena points out.

"Some impromptu plans were made," I answer.

"So I heard," she says, glancing between Emma and me. "I just didn't think you'd actually show up."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I say.