I came home early and caught my plus-size nanny sitting in the mud while my three sons dragged her across the lawn with a rope—something that should have made me furious. But then I heard a sound I hadn’t heard since their mother died: my boys were laughing, and within minutes, I was the one standing in the grass holding the other end of that rope.

Two weeks later, the New York social scene was set ablaze by a whispered rumor that sent shockwaves through the upper echelon of Manhattan wealth.

Julian Moretti—the cold, untouchable shipping tycoon who had remained a reclusive widower since Isabella’s death—was not only in a relationship, but had been seen walking hand-in-hand through Central Park with his children's plus-size nanny, laughing openly in public.

For Eleanor Moretti, it was the ultimate humiliation.

Determined to strike one final blow, Eleanor leaked a fabricated story to a tabloid gossip column, claiming that Emma had manipulated a vulnerable, grieving father and exploited her position to gain control of the Moretti estate.

On a rainy Thursday morning, the front-page headline of the New York Chronicle screamed across newsstands: MAFIA TYCOON’S NANNY SCANDAL: GOLD DIGGER OR SAVIOR?

Julian was sitting at his office desk when Marcus slammed the newspaper down in front of him.

“Julian, have you seen this? Your mother’s PR team has gone rogue. The board is calling emergency meetings. They’re worried about brand damage.”

Julian didn't even look at the newspaper. He picked up his phone, dialed a three-digit extension, and spoke with absolute, lethal calm.

“Marcus. Call a press conference for three o’clock this afternoon at Moretti Tower.”