Chapter 9
Nine
FRANCINE
The door closes with a thud, leaving me with his lingering alpha scent in the room.
My hands tremble as I press them against my hot cheeks. Kieran’s growl still echoes in my ears, primitive and hungry in a way that made my pussy clench with need even as fear prickled along my spine. I’ve been here less than a day, and I’ve already managed to make him mad at me.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my voice small and lost in this gargantuan bedroom that will be my home for the next few days. I look at the bottle of scent blocker that Kieran handed me, the plastic cracked slightly from his grip.
Oh my god, he was so close to losing control. I know it by how he tensed up almost immediately at the scent of me and by the way he demanded I wear the scent blockers.
An omega’s scent can drive an alpha to rut.
My fingers trace the damage, a physical reminder of how close he was to rutting me. And I kind of wish he did.
I can’t believe I forgot to put on scent blockers again after showering at home.
I need another shower. Like now. If another incident like this happened, I have no idea how much longer he would let me keep working here.
Grabbing a plush towel from the stack in the walk-in closet, I hurry into the adjoining bathroom.
It’s all gleaming marble and glass, a far cry from the moldy shower stall in Mother’s apartment.
I twist the knobs, and water rains down from an overhead fixture the size of a dinner plate.
Steam billows around me as I strip off my leggings and t-shirt, tossing them into a golden hamper.
Under the scalding spray of the water, I scrub my skin with a loofah, trying to erase every trace of my natural scent. My cherry blossom smell that apparently drives alphas to insanity.
First Drake, now Kieran.
As I massage shampoo into my hair, I think about the warning Drake gave me in the limo.
His eyes looked serious but also sad as he told me, “Act like you don’t know me when we get there.
Like we’re strangers. If Kieran finds out what I did, breaking into your apartment. .. He’ll fire you on the spot.”
For the rest of the ride, he was quiet, and I felt bad. I don’t know why I felt bad. Maybe it was because he almost kissed me, and I rejected him? Maybe he was just creating distance because I hurt his pride.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrap myself in the enormous towel, amazed at how soft it is against my skin.
Even the bathroom floor is heated, keeping my feet warm as I pad to the vanity.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror- green eyes too large in my pale face, freckles standing out like constellations across my nose and cheeks, red hair darkened to copper by water.
I look scared. Naive. And completely out of my depth.
But I’m not leaving. I refuse to crawl back to Mother’s apartment, to sleep in that room that smells of lies and death. I need this job, this fresh start. And if that means navigating a household of unmated alphas who react strangely to my scent, then so be it.
I open the bottle of scent blocker lotion and apply it methodically, starting with my neck, where scent glands are most active, then working down to my wrists, the insides of my elbows, and behind my knees.
I generously apply it, using nearly half the bottle around my thighs. Better safe than sorry.
The blocker has a clinical, antiseptic smell that masks my natural cherry blossom scent. It’s not pleasant, but it’s necessary, especially after seeing Kieran’s reaction.
Back in the bedroom, I open my suitcase and pull out the white house dress I packed in a hurry.
It’s simple but pretty, with a tied waist and flowing skirt.
The fabric falls just above my knees as I slip it over my head, adjusting the ties to cinch my waist. I study my reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the closet door.
The white makes my hair look even more vibrant, my skin creamier.
It’s modest enough for dinner with my employers, though perhaps a bit too nice for just watching Nora. But it’s my first real dinner here, and I want to make a good impression. To show them I’m professional and put-together, despite the earlier incident with Kieran.
I run my fingers through my damp hair, letting it fall in loose waves around my shoulders. There’s no time to blow-dry it properly before dinner. I apply a touch of tinted lip balm and mascara, just enough to feel more confident, not enough to look like I’m trying too hard.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step into the hallway. The mansion is quiet, except for the distant voices from downstairs. I make my way toward the grand staircase, my hand trailing along the smooth wooden banister that spirals down three floors.
The voices grow louder as I approach the dining room. I pause in the doorway, taking in the scene before me.
The dining table is massive, easily seating twenty, though only four places are set at one end.
Kieran sits at the head, his posture rigid, scrolling through something on his phone.
Drake and Rowan are already seated as well, while Elias appears to be explaining something, his hands moving gracefully as he speaks.
And there’s Nora, perched on a window seat in the corner, licking a bright blue popsicle that’s already stained her lips and fingers. She’s ignoring the food being brought in by staff, focusing solely on her treat.
I step into the room, and all conversation stops.
Four pairs of alpha eyes turn to me simultaneously, each with a different expression.
Kieran’s gaze is guarded, his jaw tight.
Drake’s eyes flicker over me once before returning to his plate, feigning disinterest. Rowan’s golden-brown eyes are curious, almost gentle.
And Elias’s amber eyes behind those rectangular glasses are calculating, missing nothing.
“Um, hello,” I say. Nora looks up from her popsicle, gives me a sticky blue smile, then returns to her frozen treat.
“You’re just in time for dinner. Thank you for joining us,” says Rowan.
“Thank you,” I say, as I turn to Nora. “Hey Nora, are you going to eat dinner with us?”
She shakes her head, blue popsicle juice dribbling down her chin. “Nope. I’m already eating.”
“Did you have any real food today?” I ask gently.
She shrugs, not meeting my eyes, and I recognize the expression from countless other children I’ve nannied. It’s the universal look of a kid who knows they’re getting away with something they shouldn’t.
“Nora,” I prompt again, but she slides off the window seat and darts past me, taking her popsicle with her. I watch her go, sighing softly. Clearly, the brothers have been letting her eat whatever she wants, whenever she wants. That’s going to be a challenge to correct.
“Don’t worry about her,” Elias says, standing to pull out the chair beside him. “She’ll eat when she’s hungry.”
I hesitate, then take the offered seat, hyperaware of Kieran’s eyes on me. “She needs structure, though. Regular meals are important for…”
“She’s fine,” Kieran interrupts, his voice clipped. “She’s always been a picky eater.”
Why the fuck did he hire me then? I’ll let it go for now, as I’ve run into parents like him before who dislike change.
I bite my lip, nodding. Making sure Nora eats properly will definitely be on my list of priorities moving forward.
A staff member places a steaming plate before me. It looks like herb chicken with roasted vegetables and a small scoop of risotto. It smells delicious, making my stomach growl. I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast.
“Thank you,” I murmur to the server, who nods politely before stepping away.
An awkward silence descends over the table.
I can feel the thick tension crackling in the air.
None of the brothers are looking at me now, but I’m acutely aware of their presence, of their scents mingling in the air—pine from Kieran, cinnamon and leather from Drake, something citrusy from Rowan, and a peanut butter scent from Elias.
Their alpha scents make my heart race and my body warm. I focus on my food, cutting a small piece of chicken and bringing it to my lips. The flavor of it dances in my mouth- garlic, herbs, perfectly cooked meat. It’s the best thing I’ve eaten in months.
“Are you settling well?” Rowan asks suddenly, his deep voice breaking the silence. He’s looking at me with genuine concern, his golden-brown eyes warm. “Were you able to pack everything you needed?”
“Yes, thank you,” I say, grateful for the conversation. “Drake was very helpful.”
Drake’s eyes flick to mine for a fraction of a second before returning to his plate. I notice his knuckles are white around his fork. Oops, maybe he thinks I insinuated something else.
God, these alphas.
“How long have you been a nanny, Francine?” Elias asks, his voice smooth and calming. There’s something about his presence that puts me at ease, a steady warmth that makes the tension in my shoulders loosen slightly.
“About three years now,” I answer, taking a sip of water.
“Let’s address the elephant in the room,” Kieran says abruptly, setting down his fork with a soft clink against the china plate. His ice-blue eyes fix on mine, intense and unreadable. “This is the first time we’ve had an omega in our home. There needs to be rules.”
My heart stumbles in my chest, my fork halfway to my mouth. I set it down carefully, trying to keep my hand from shaking. “Of course.”
I feel a warm touch on my elbow and glance over to see Elias’s hand there, a gentle, reassuring pressure. Immediately, a wave of calm washes over me, easing the anxiety that had been building. It’s like his touch has direct access to my nervous system, turning down the volume on my fear.
“First and foremost,” Kieran continues, his voice firm. “Scent blockers must be worn at all times. What happened earlier cannot happen again.”
“What happened?” asks Drake sharply.
“None of your concerns,” Kieran retorts.
“We have a right to know.”