Aiden had been nervous before… but nothing in his life compared to this.
His palms were damp inside the borrowed lace gloves, his throat dry despite how many times Saara had made him drink water, and—worst of all—he kept feeling like he had to pee every five minutes.
Saara clicked her tongue, straightening the wig on his head.
"Relax, Aiden. You look perfect. No one will guess you're not Ava."
"I can't breathe," he whispered, pressing a hand to his chest. The corset Saara had tightened around his waist made his heart drum painfully.
"You can breathe. You're just panicking," Saara said, squinting at his eyeliner. "Stop blinking like you're being tortured."
"I am being tortured," he muttered, legs crossing subconsciously. "Saara, I have to pee again—"
"You just peed," she groaned.
"Yes but now— I think I need to go again—"
She exhaled. "Aiden, you're nervous. You do this every time something big happens."
"My bladder doesn't know that!"
Saara grabbed his wrist. "Okay, okay. We'll stop at the airport. My friend's flight lands now anyway."
Aiden swallowed hard. Today was the day.
Interview day.
Fake girl day.
Biggest-life-lie day.
His knees nearly gave out.
********
The airport was loud, crowded, full of polished floors that reflected his trembling legs. Aiden could barely focus on anything—his stockings felt uneven, the wig itched, his fake breasts felt like they were glaringly obvious.
"Stop fidgeting," Saara warned, pushing him forward. "You'll look suspicious."
"I am suspicious!" he hissed softly. "What if someone realizes I'm a guy? What if I talk too deep? What if I trip? What if I—"
"—pee yourself?" Saara deadpanned.
"…I might," he admitted.
Saara sighed. "Fine. Go. Women's washroom. Not the men's. Understand? Women's."
"Yes, yes, I know," Aiden said quickly.
But his nerves had already shredded whatever common sense he had left.
Saara turned toward the arrival gate, checking her phone for her friend's message. "Go, Ava. Quickly."
Aiden nodded, clutching his purse to his chest, and stumbled toward the restrooms.
*********
Aiden had never been this nervous in his entire life.
His fake eyelashes felt like heavy curtains, his wig itched, his corset squeezed the panic out of him, and his bladder—traitorous, useless thing—kept sending signals of emergency.
He finished quickly inside the stall, hands trembling as he readjusted his skirt and fixed the wig like Saara taught him.
His mind was already foggy with fear.
Too much fear.
Enough to shut down all logical thought.
He opened the stall door.
And froze.
A man stood at the sinks.
Not just any man.
A man who looked carved from shadows and steel.
Black shirt fitted against broad shoulders.
Sleeves rolled to the elbows, veins visible on strong forearms.
Hair slicked back neatly.
Jaw sharp enough to cut glass.
Face handsome enough to make someone forget their own name.
And his eyes—
gray, cool, piercing—
lifted slowly to meet Aiden's through the mirror.
Aiden's breath caught.
Something weird fluttered inside him—something he absolutely did NOT want right now.
But before he could speak, before he could use his real voice—
His eyes darted to the mirror.
To his reflection.
Not Aiden.
Ava.
Soft curls of the wig.
Lip gloss shining.
Blouse hugging a figure that wasn't his.
He swallowed hard.
Wait.
Wait.
WAIT.
His panic jumped tracks.
"What are you doing here in the women's washroom?" Aiden demanded, forcing Ava's soft, feminine voice.
The man didn't answer.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even blink.
He simply continued washing his hands, pretending Aiden didn't exist.
Aiden's brain, already malfunctioning from stress, made him push further.
"HEY! I know exactly what kind of man you are—coming into women's bathrooms to scare girls!" he accused, pointing a trembling finger. "I have a sister too, and if you think I'll let someone like you—"
"You're in the wrong washroom," the man finally said, voice low and flat like a closing door.
Aiden blinked.
"What? No, you are—"
The bathroom door swung open.
A young janitor peeked in, paused, then gave a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, sorry!" He laughed awkwardly. "Didn't mean to interrupt. Uh… sir, please make your girlfriend step out next time. Some people might complain."
Aiden stood there, frozen.
Girlfriend???
GIRLFRIEND?!?!?!
His mouth fell open in shock.
"HEY!!! I'm not—!" he sputtered.
But the janitor was already gone.
Aiden turned back to the man—
and that's when reality slapped him.
He scanned the walls.
The tiles.
The sign beside the mirror.
MEN'S WASHROOM.
His stomach dropped to the floor.
He was the one in the wrong place.
He was the idiot.
He was the creep.
He felt his face burn with shame, horror, and about six different types of panic.
"O–Okay, I'm leaving," he whispered, mortified beyond repair.
He took a step—
His heel slipped.
Aiden gasped as his ankle twisted, and he pitched backward.
But before he hit the ground—
Strong arms caught him.
One around his waist.
One behind his back.
He crashed against the man's chest, breath knocked out of him.
Their faces were inches apart.
Aiden felt his breath stop entirely.
Their noses nearly brushed.
Their lips ridiculously close.
The man's warm breath fanned over Aiden's cheek.
For a suspended moment, the world went silent.
Aiden forgot fear.
He forgot the disguise.
He forgot the interview.
All he saw were gray eyes staring straight into him—
not hostile
not cold
not judging
just… startled.
Just for a second.
Then—
He was dropped.
Not roughly, but abruptly enough that he fell onto the cold tile with an ungraceful thud.
"What the hell?!" Aiden yelped, scrambling to sit up, humiliated and breathless.
The man wiped his hands again as if nothing had happened.
Aiden's heart hammered so loudly he thought the man could hear it.
He glared, cheeks flaming.
"You didn't have to drop me!"
"You didn't have to fall," the man replied calmly.
"You didn't have to STARE!"
"It's hard not to stare when someone is shouting at you in the wrong restroom."
"You—! You're—! You're unbelievable!"
He walked past Aiden, ignoring him entirely, voice low and cutting:
"And you're careless."
Aiden opened his mouth, stunned.
The man paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly—just enough for Aiden to see the curve of his sharp jaw in profile.
"And next time," he said coldly,
"learn to read a sign."
Then he walked out.
Leaving Aiden on the floor, humiliated, furious—
And with a traitorous heart beating far too fast.
He hated that man.
He hated him instantly.
He hated him deeply.
********
Saara nearly fainted when she saw Aiden rushing back.
"You took so long! Did you mess up your hair? Did your voice crack? Did—"
"I met a demon," Aiden muttered.
"A what?"
"Never mind. Let's get this over with."
They took the elevator up to the 39th floor.
There stood Mrs. Helena.
Aiden had seen strict women before, but Helena was something else entirely.
Tall. Elegant. Silver hair pinned into a flawless bun. Diamonds on her wrist. And eyes sharp enough to slice through lies.
Her gaze swept over Ava from head to toe.
"You are the applicant?" she said, voice like cold steel.
Aiden swallowed. "Y-Yes, ma'am."
"No slouching."
"No stuttering."
"Speak clearly."
"Sit straight."
The commands came like bullets.
Aiden sat in front of her as if facing a firing squad.
The interview started.
And Aiden failed every question.
"How would you calm a child during a nightmare?"
"Well, I—"
"Describe child-safe cleaning protocols."
"Pr..otocols… what?"
Helena sighed in pure disappointment.
"You are unprepared. Unsuitable. Inexperienced. And frankly—"
Her gaze sharpened.
"—not nanny material at all."
Aiden lowered his eyes. His cheeks burned from humiliation. All this work. All this fear. All this desperation.
For nothing.
"I'm sorry to waste your time," he whispered.
Helena leaned back. "You are dismissed."
The words shattered him.
***********
Aiden had barely stood up when a soft giggle sounded from behind Helena's desk.
He froze.
A little girl peeked from the doorway—tiny, wide-eyed, holding a bunny plush.
Lily.
Helena turned. "Lily? Sweetheart, you're supposed to be with the housemaid."
Lily shook her head stubbornly and walked into the office.
GrandMa, when Daddy will come , she asked
Aiden couldn't help but smile. She was adorable.
But the next moment happened too fast.
Lily toddled toward a low table—but her foot caught on the carpet edge. She stumbled—
—toward the balcony steps behind the office desk.
"LILY!" Helena screamed.
Aiden moved before he could think.
He sprinted across the room, heels be damned. He lunged forward, grabbed Lily's waist and twisted mid-fall to shield her.
His back slammed against the marble floor.
Pain shot up his spine.
His elbow scraped against the sharp metal railing. Warm blood trickled instantly.
But Lily was safe.
She sniffled once, then buried her tiny face into Ava's chest, clutching him with trembling little fists.
Aiden hugged her tighter, voice trembling.
"It's okay. You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you…"
Helena reached them, breathless.
"Oh my God. Lily… Are you hurt? Ava—your arm! You're bleeding!"
Aiden glanced at his arm—it was bad. A deep cut, blood dripping down his pale skin.
But he lifted Lily slightly.
"I'm fine. She's safe. That's what matters."
Helena stared.
Not at the injury.
Not at the blood.
Not at the mess.
She stared at the way Ava held Lily—with a tenderness, a fear, a protective desperation she hadn't seen in years.
The way a parent holds a child.
Slowly, Helena exhaled.
"You…" she whispered. "You are not what I expected."
Lily lifted her face.
"Daddyy…" the little cry come out ,Aiden heart melted to hear her cry and he hugged her
He will come baby, Aiden said while hugging her
Helena was surprised and shocked to see .
Helena straightened, decision forming almost instantly.
"You're hired."
Aiden froze. "What?"
"Get your arm bandaged. Then prepare yourself. You will report to the Blackwood Mansion tomorrow morning."
He didn't know whether to laugh or faint.
Helena wasn't done.
"You saved Lily. That cannot be ignored. And she… trusts you. But understand this, Ava—my expectations are higher than you can imagine."
Aiden nodded shakily.
"Yes, ma'am."
Helena's face darkened.
"And there is something else."
*************
Helena dismissed the staff and waited until the room was fully empty.
Her expression shifted—no longer cold, but deadly serious.
"Lily is my daughter's daughter," Helena said quietly. "My only grandchild."
Aiden's chest tightened.
"And her mother died because she was married to Ethan Blackwood."
Aiden stiffened.
Ethan.
The name tasted bitter.
He remembered the restroom stranger with gray eyes. Arrogant. Rude. Cold. Too handsome for his own good.
Helena continued.
"He won the custody case. Money wins everything. But I do not trust him. I will never trust him."
Aiden swallowed.
"Is he… dangerous?"
Helena's lips tightened.
"Maybe. Maybe not. But I will not risk losing Lily the way I lost my daughter."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"So listen carefully, Ava."
Aiden held his breath.
"You are not just a nanny."
His heart pounded.
"You will watch him."
Aiden froze.
"You will observe everything he does around Lily. Every mood. Every reaction. Every mistake."
Her eyes locked with his.
"And if he proves unfit… you will report directly to me."
Aiden's mind spun.
She wanted him to spy on Ethan Blackwood.
She wanted evidence.
She wanted custody.
Aiden's jaw tightened.
This was dangerous. Messy. Wrong.
But Mia's fragile face appeared in his mind again—how desperately she needed surgery. How this job was their only hope.
Aiden's fists clenched.
"If it protects Lily," he whispered, "I'll do it."
Helena nodded, satisfied.
"I knew you would understand."
She placed a neatly written card into his hand.
"Blackwood Mansion. Report at 7 AM sharp."
Aiden stepped back, pulse pounding.
Ethan Blackwood.
He already hated that man.
And tomorrow…
He would have to step inside his house
***********
Saara was pacing when Aiden stepped out, arm bandaged but still shaken.
"What happened? Why are you bleeding?! Did they reject you? Did Helena hit you? Did—"
Aiden barely whispered the words.
"I got the job."
Saara froze.
"What?"
Aiden exhaled shakily.
"I met a demon in the restroom. I failed the interview. Lily almost died. I bled everywhere. And now… I have to go to the Blackwood Mansion and pretend I'm not terrified."
Saara blinked.
"That's… a lot."
"You think?"
Saara hugged him tightly.
"Aiden… you're doing all of this for Mia. You'll survive. You always do."
Aiden nodded weakly.
But as he stepped outside into the cold city air, only one thought spun through his mind:
Ethan Blackwood.
He didn't know what fate awaited him at the mansion.
But one thing was certain—
He already despised the man he hadn't even properly met.
And his heart—traitorous, confused—was still racing from the bathroom encounter.
***************