579 Something was terribly wrong the moment my twin daughters started screaming at three in the morning, and I stormed toward the nursery ready to fire the new nanny on the spot. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that waited behind that door, because the woman I was certain had failed my family was doing the one thing I hadn't been able to do since my wife died.

For a heartbeat, the courtyard was so quiet you could hear the rustle of the dry autumn leaves across the stone.

Elise didn't flinch. She didn't look down or cower. She stepped forward, placing a protective hand on the handle of the stroller, and met Eleanor’s icy stare head-on.

"Mrs. Caruso, I assume," Elise said, her voice calm, clear, and perfectly even. "I am not an employee you can dismiss. My contract is with Mr. Caruso. And until he tells me to leave, my priority is the emotional and physical safety of these children—which, judging by your aggressive entrance, is something you have very little regard for."

Eleanor’s jaw dropped. In her entire life, nobody—let alone a twenty-something nanny—had ever spoken to her with such unvarnished authority.

"How dare you," Eleanor hissed, her face flushing with aristocratic fury. She turned to me, her eyes blazing. "Dominic! Are you going to stand there and let this insolent girl disrespect me in your own home? Fire her this instant, or I swear to God I will strip every cent of the family trust from your corporate accounts!"

The threat hung in the air like a poisoned dart. The family trust—millions of dollars tied up in ancestral holdings that funded a portion of Caruso Global’s overseas logistics infrastructure.

For years, that trust had been the invisible leash my mother used to control every major decision in my life, including my marriage to Sarah.

I looked at my mother. Then I looked past her at Elise, who stood tall beside my daughters, protecting them not with wealth or power, but with sheer, unyielding courage.

And then I looked down at Maisie and Rosie, who were watching me with wide, trusting eyes.

The leash snapped.

"Keep the trust, Mother," I said, my voice cutting through the courtyard like a razor blade.

Eleanor froze. "What did you say?"

"I said keep your money," I repeated, stepping closer until I towered over her. "Keep every penny of the ancestral funds. Use it to buy yourself a new cold, empty mansion to rattle around in. Because you are never stepping foot on my property again."

"Dominic, you are out of your mind!" Eleanor shrieked, her composure finally cracking. "You are throwing away generations of family legacy for a glorified babysitter!"

"She is not a babysitter," I said, my voice dropping into a terrifyingly calm register. "She is the only person who has brought life back into this house since Sarah died. Jenkins!"

The butler appeared instantly from the shadows of the archway.

"Escort my mother and her luggage off the estate," I commanded. "And if she attempts to bypass the security gates again, have the local police issue a trespassing citation."

"Right away, sir," Jenkins said, his expression completely neutral, though a faint gleam of satisfaction shone in his eyes.