The Billionaire's Super Nanny (A BWWM Romance)

by Tiana Cole

  The caller hung up before I could respond. I didn’t know what to say anyway. I flipped the switch to “off-air”, my hand shaking violently.

  My cellphone rang before I had a chance to take a breath. I wasn’t surprised that it was Taylor.

  “Zeya, holy shit! Are you all right?”

  “There are pictures,” I said. “They’re everywhere.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they’re everywhere. Everywhere I’ve been in the last few weeks. Even several of me going into your house. Taylor, what’s going on? I didn’t hurt anyone. I’ve never hurt anyone’s family. Why is this happening to me?”

  “I don’t know. Take a deep breath. Try to remain calm. Was there anything else?”

  “A note.”

  I flipped the note over, reading the perfect script to myself.

  Zeya,

  Do you really think you’ll ever be more than the nanny? You have what’s mine and I’m taking it back. I will stop at nothing to get my family back. Is he worth losing your life over?

  “What does it say?”

  I read it to him three times, just to make sure he got it.

  “There’s no signature?”

  “No, and the handwriting is perfectly neat.”

  “Can you send me a picture of it?”

  “Sure.”

  I snapped a picture and sent it. When he received it, I heard him suck in a ragged breath.

  “I know this writing.”

  “What? How? Who is it?”

  “It’s my ex-wife’s handwriting. I’m sure of it. Zeya, you’re in danger.”

  “Why? I don’t understand what I did. I thought she left on her own.”

  “She did, Zeya. But there’s something I haven’t told you about my ex. I’m halfway home. I’ll fuel up the chopper and I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Where am I going? What’s going on?”

  “You’re coming to my home, but I’m going to have to hire more than one guard.”

  “That’s insane. What aren’t you telling me?”

  He took another breath, and I imagined I could hear his heart pounding roughly as he did. Then I realized that it was my heart, slamming against my chest. I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening.

  “Lynne is ill, seriously ill. But she wouldn’t get help. Instead, she self-medicated. I tried everything I could to help her, but she was so good at hiding it, I didn’t realize how sick she was until it was too late. When I came home and found her passed out on the floor beside Tanner’s crib, that was the last straw. She agreed to inpatient care and things got good, for a while.”

  He was silent for a moment, but I didn’t interrupt. I could hear it in his voice; he’d been holding onto this a long time. If I stopped him now, he might not ever get it out.

  “I was leaving after visiting her one day when the doctor pulled me aside. She was faking all the progress that she’d made, and she wasn’t really getting better. He told me there was no hope for a normal life with her because she didn’t see a problem with her behavior. I was ready to brush him off when he showed me something that stopped my heart. Lynne kept a journal in the hospital, and her writings ranged from fairytale romance to disjointing ramblings. But one entry in particular talked about how the children had ruined her life and that I loved them more than her. She threatened to ‘end it all’, though she was never clear on what that was. That same day, I got a no contact order and started the divorce proceedings.”

  “The doctor can’t just share that information with you.”

  “I know that, but do you blame him?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “When she got served divorce papers, the real Lynne came out. She flew into a rage, attacking anyone who looked at her. She vowed to destroy everything that made me happy until all I wanted was her. The judge granted the divorce and due to our pre-nup, I walked away without owing her a dime. I transfer money into an account each month that the rehab center draws from, and I deposited one million into her account despite the ruling. She was supposed to be in the center for awhile, but it looks like she was able to convince them that she was improving.”

  “Oh God. Taylor, how could they let her go?”

  “You can’t hold an adult against their will, when they don’t pose a threat to themselves or others. And since there were no direct threats, she wasn’t able to be convicted of a crime.”

  “Until now.”

  “Exactly. I’m nearly home. Stay put, I’m coming to get you.”

  “Taylor, I’m scared.”

  “It’s going to be all right. I’ll come get you and we’ll go back to my place. I’m going to hang up now and call my security company and have them send a few more bodyguards. Did you call the police yet?”

  “After how they treated me the last time? No way.”

  “Good. We’ll deal with it when we get back to my place. The police in East Hampton are a little more understanding of this type of thing.”

  “I bet they are,” I mumbled.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he said, and hung up before I said goodbye.

  “Is Taylor coming to get you?” Ted asked.

  “Yes. I’m going to stay here and wait for—”

  The strobe lights started before the blaring noise of the building’s emergency alarm went off.

  “What the hell?” Ted said, looking around angrily. “Hell of a time for a fire drill.”

  The landlines rang all at once. Heart in my throat, I watched as Ted quickly grabbed one. He listened without saying a word and hung up quickly.

  “We have to leave,” he said, shoving me towards the door.

  “Why?”

  “Someone called in a bomb threat. Probably your stalker friend.”

  I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and rushing out the door. People from every floor were making their way down the stairs and through the first floor hallway. Some joked and laughed, but most wore drawn expressions, barely contained fear hidden just below the surface. This building hadn’t had a bomb threat for as long as I remembered, and most were taking it seriously.

  I lost Ted in the crowd that flowed out the doors and spilled onto the sidewalk. I looked around at the faces around me as I hurried away from the building. There were so many people I didn’t recognize. Was Lynne in the crowd? Was I safe here?

  The police were already showing up, directing everyone further and further from the building. I could see my front gate when they finally allowed us to stop, deeming this distance safe in case of explosion.

  The hair on the back of my neck tingled, and I looked around again. An endless sea of faces seemed to be staring at me. Some wore kind smiles, others caught me looking and turned away. Had they heard the broadcast? Did they think the bomb threat was because of me?

  A quick look over my shoulder confirmed that my home was right there, safe from the crush of bodies that was jammed into the small side street from our building and all the buildings in the surrounding two blocks. With every brush of a body against me, I was certain that I was about to be stabbed. Or worse.

  I pulled my phone out, slowly making my way out of the crowd and toward my home. I pulled up Taylor’s name and shot him a quick text that I would be home.

  Stay at the studio, came the immediate reply.

  I answered back, explaining that I felt unsafe in the large crowd while everyone was distracted. It took him awhile to respond. He finally texted back, “OK. Be there in an hour.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to another ride in the helicopter, but I knew that there was no faster way for him to get here. If it meant getting away from this mess and to safety faster, I would take it. There were worse things than flying over New York in a fancy two-seater with a billionaire.

  I heard someone call out to me, but I was already halfway down the block, so I pretended not to hear. I knew why they set up the parameter, and why they wanted us all to stick around for questioning. But there were bigger things go
ing on than some bogus bomb threat. I was in real trouble, and I didn’t have time to wait around and hope the police took me seriously this time. Besides, it would be just my luck that they would believe it was me who called the threat in. I couldn’t take that risk. At least with Taylor’s money I had a bit of protection.

  I opened the gate and slipped inside, catching a glimpse of the man who’d called out to me from the corner of my eye. It was the policeman from before, but he’d already given up and was heading back, probably to deal with the crowd. I was sure I’d catch hell for it later.

  I jogged up the stairs and made my way to my door. I slid the key in the lock, mentally going over a list of items to pack when a hand encircled my arm and I felt a knife press to my back.

  “If you scream, I’ll kill you right here and leave you for Taylor to find. You don’t want that, do you?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Good. Open the door and let’s go inside. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Chapter 16

  Taylor

  I left work a little early, though I still hit the city traffic. I’d taken the car that morning, leaving much earlier than normal and enjoying the quiet drive to work. There’d been almost no traffic this morning, but now, in the early afternoon, it was already almost bumper to bumper.

  I turned on Zeya’s radio show, happy to catch the live portion as she was starting. I listened with rapt attention, trying to guess what she was going to tell them to do and congratulating myself when I was close. Many of the issues that people called in about were the same I’d faced over the last week. Now that I was on the other side and things were looking up, it was easy to forget how desperate I’d been for help.

  “There’s enough time for one more caller,” she said cheerfully, picking up a line and answering the way she always did.

  I felt a thrill of pleasure at the familiar phrase, her voice smooth as honey when she spoke. She was a talented radio host, one of the best I’d ever heard. She could have done anything, but she chose to help parents solve their childhood troubles. She was one of a kind…and she was mine.

  Well, almost.

  My blood ran cold when the caller responded to Zeya’s cheerful greeting.

  “I’m glad I finally got through. It seems you’re popular today.”

  Zeya faltered, not answering immediately to the threatening voice on the other line.

  She was quiet a long time before she spoke, and I held my breath, waiting to hear what her response would be.

  “I’m always popular,” she said, “But you seem like a lonely loser. How’s your mother’s basement?”

  “I wouldn’t be quick to be so brave,” the raspy voice came back. “Is my gift there yet?”

  “What gi—”

  It went silent again, but there was static on the line, as if Zeya had stood and was moving around the room with her headset on. I heard a small gasp and a low moan of fear that was almost inaudible, followed by silence, and I wondered what was going on. I ran through so many scenarios in my mind, discarding each one while the silence hung oppressively in the air.

  I tramped down on the accelerator, weaving through traffic and trying to get home as fast as I could. Horns blared and angry drivers flipped me off as I went.

  “You’re quite photogenic,” the distorted voice on the line said. “Too bad you have to die. You’ve destroyed my life, now I’ll destroy yours.”

  The caller hung up before she could respond. The show cut to commercial and I turned off the radio.

  I used the voice dialer on my phone to call Zeya, the call routed through my car’s speakers so that I could keep my hands and eyes on the road. She answered on the first ring.

  She was freaking out, and who could blame her? A stranger had threatened her life, live on the air. That would shake even the most stoic of professionals to their core.

  “What does the note say?” I asked.

  I listened to her read it a few times, and something tugged at my subconscious. There was something familiar about the words.

  “There’s no signature?”

  “No, and the handwriting is perfectly neat.”

  “Can you send me a picture of it?”

  “Sure.”

  She snapped a picture and sent it. When it popped up on my phone’s screen several seconds later, the shock was almost too much. I didn’t need to remove the phone from its dock on the dashboard and examine it closer to know who wrote the note.

  I knew that writing anywhere. This was bad. Really bad, and it was all my fault.

  “I know this writing.”

  “What? How? Who is it?”

  “It’s my ex-wife. Zeya, you’re in danger.”

  “Why? I don’t understand what I did. I thought she left on her own.”

  “She did, Zeya. But there’s something I haven’t told you about my ex. I’m halfway home. I’ll fuel up the chopper and I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Where am I going? What’s going on?”

  What could I tell her that wouldn’t totally send her into a panic? That Lynne was a sadistic woman who had no capacity for compassion or empathy? That she was in real danger and that I wouldn’t put it past my ex to actually try to kill Zeya to get back at me?

  “You’re coming to my home, but I’m going to have to hire more than one guard.”

  “That’s insane. What aren’t you telling me?”

  I took a deep breath, trying to decide what she needed to know now and what could wait until later. I laid on my horn when a man in front of me double-parked, darting around him and nearly causing an accident.

  I told her the story, shifting through traffic as best as I could as it lurched onward. If only I’d brought the chopper today.

  When I finished, she was in shock.

  “Oh God. Taylor, how could they let her go?”

  “She didn’t make any direct threats, and she wasn’t actually committing a crime.”

  “Until now.”

  “Exactly. I’m nearly home,” I lied, not wanting her to know just how far away I was. “Stay put, I’m coming to get you.”

  “Taylor, I’m scared.”

  So was I, but there was no way I was going to admit it. It wouldn’t do her any good to know it now, and I needed her clear-headed. If I was scared, that would make it even harder on her. As long as she thought that I was calm and collected, she would feel confident. At least, that’s what I hoped.

  “It’s going to be all right. I’ll come get you and we’ll go back to my place. I’m going to hang up now and call my security company and have them send a few more bodyguards. Did you call the police yet?”

  “After how they treated me the last time? No way.”

  “Good. We’ll deal with it when we get back to my place. The police in East Hampton are a little more understanding of this type of thing.”

  “I bet they are,” she mumbled.

  I didn’t blame her for being resentful of how differently the police acted in a more affluent city. It was just how it had always been. It wasn’t right, but it wasn’t a surprise, either.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I said, and hung up before she said goodbye.

  I had a lot of calls to make, and I wasn’t even sure where to start. At least I was almost out of the city and this godforsaken, nightmarish traffic.

  Why was traffic so heavy when I needed to get home fast? I let the worry get to me, frantically calling everyone I could think of to get things in motion. I started with Abel, letting him know that I needed the chopper fueled up and the number of men watching my house increased by at least four. I quickly laid out what was going on, giving him enough information to get what I wanted and ending the call. I had other calls to make.

  By the time I pulled into my garage half the city was looking for Lynne, and the other half was prepared to protect Zeya from her. I parked the car and burst through the door that led to the kitchen from the garage. I rushed through the house toward my office.

  �
��Daddy, Daddy!” Tara yelled, rushing toward me, a big smile on her face.

  “Daddy has to run, Baby. I love you. I’ll be home really soon.”

  “Are you going to pick up Mommy?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks.

  “What did you say?”

  “Mommy said she’s coming home. That no one is going to try to take her place anymore. Are you going to pick her up from the doctor? Mommy said she’s all cured.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “When did you see Mommy, Baby?”

  “At school. I see her at school all the time. She sneaks in the bushes by the fence, and we talk to each other.”

  I was shaking, but from fear, not anger. I tried to keep my voice level, afraid that I would scare Tara and she would clam up.

  “What else did she say?” I asked, acting like Mommy had told a secret and it was all in good fun.

  “She said that we were going to be a family again, and we were going to have a little brother or a sister soon.”

  Abel walked into the room just then, followed closely by four other men.

  “I’ve fueled the chopper like you asked,” he said.

  I squatted down so that I was at Tara’s eye level, speaking quietly and calmly.

  “Tara, these men are going to stay here and keep you safe while Daddy takes care of some things. They’re in charge, and you have to do anything they say, even if you don’t want to. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. I grabbed her and kissed her on the head.

  “Good girl. Now go play with your brother and make sure he stays with you. I’ll be home soon.”

  I stood up, watching her run to the playroom. I stood close to Abel, keeping my voice low so that the kids wouldn’t hear me from across the hall.

  “Call the police and give them Zeya’s address. Hopefully they’ll get there before me, but I’m not taking any chances. As for here, no one comes in or out. And no matter who they say they are, until I get back, only the kids and Sonja are to be here. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” they said quietly in unison.

  “Thank you.”

  I fled the room, praying that I would get to Zeya before Lynne did. My phone buzzed in my pocket. There was a text from Zeya, saying she was heading to her apartment. I answered, telling her to stay put. Her response was quick, and I stopped short of the door leading to the helipad.