Pampered After Divorce - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

After overhearing the father and son conversation, I deduced that Roger's previous nannies never stayed at this house.
What a waste of such a vast space, reminiscent of Wesley's new mansion. Gianni's residence was still grander and more opulent than that.
I noticed some women in uniforms, unmistakably maids, who seemed taken aback by the little boy's outburst.
Standing behind the door as Roger shouted for me to leave, I remained resolute, fearing that if he had his way this time, I might miss the opportunity to get to know him.
"I just want to say hi," I ventured, not anticipating his kindness but also not bracing myself for his harsh words.
"I hate you," he bellowed from inside. I forced a smile, catching an inscrutable expression on Gianni's face. It was evident he was inclined to intervene, but I was not ready to give up just yet.
"I understand you hate me, but you don't know me. Why don't we give each other a chance to get acquainted? If you still dislike me after a month, I will leave this house and never return."
Gianni's gaze met mine, his expression grim, but I was convinced that a month would be enough time for this charming boy and me to establish a rapport.
"You're a nanny," he pointed out, indicating his aversion to nannies.
I recalled Kiara's unkindness towards me when we were growing up, even though we didn't have nannies. Despite her behavior, I still cared for her. However, the circumstances here were different.
In Roger's case, I was his nanny and not related to him by blood, which I clarified to him.
I'm just a nanny in name because I've never done this job before. I don't even know how to be a nanny. You are my first client."
I heard him giggle, thinking it was fine, but when he opened the door, his expression was dark.
"I still hate you," Roger grimaced but Gianni had a small smile on his face, making me feel it was better than nothing.
I forced a smile and responded to Roger. "I know. I don't expect you to like me, but my name is Molly, and trust me, I won't tell you what to do. It's going to be the other way around," I said, a vicious smile on his face.
The boy was cute but had some of Gianni's darkness inside him. "For the start, you should clean my shoes," he said with a smug smile, and I almost fainted.
"What? There were maids, and yet he wanted me to clean his shoes. What a spoiled brat? In handling Roger, I must say that Gianni has failed."
"Your shoes look clean and don't need cleaning," I said, smiling, though my voice was stern.
Gianni wanted to stand up for me before, but why was he not doing so now?
The little boy was bent on embarrassing me and began throwing tantrums. "I need water," he yelled, and a maid rushed to his side with a glass of water, which he poured on his sneakers.
"It needs cleaning now, Molly."
"Sorry, young master," the maid lowered herself to clean his shoes, but he pushed her away. I was glad he wasn't strong enough; otherwise, the maid would have fallen due to the force he used.
Roger was a wild child who needed taming, but I didn't think Gianni was ready to do anything about it. It seemed he was the one who trained his son like this.
Molly, will you clean my shoes or not?" he asked again, his gaze fixed on mine.
He was adorable, and despite my initial desire to teach him humility, I found myself stepping into the role of a parent.
If Roger were my child, how hard would it be to clean his shoes without a maid? I had already served ungrateful people for two years, so what was wrong with helping a boy who had much to learn in life?
"Cleaning your shoes is no trouble for me." I took the towel from the maid and wiped his shoes clean, stunning him. Gianni appeared upset until I clarified,
"You should have said please, but I suppose that will be the first lesson I teach you. For now, may I see your room as a friend?"
He quickly shut the door and stared at me. "No, you must never enter my room."
Growing frustrated, I reminded him, "How will I help you to shower and get ready for preschool?"
I noticed a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. "Only Dad can help me with that," he said.
"Well, he's not helping you this time around until my one-month probation is over," I replied.
He didn't believe me and turned to his father, asking, "Dad, you will help me, won't you?"
I saw a frustrated look in Gianni's eyes, which made me smile. What would be my job if he got the arrogant boy ready for school by himself?
"Roger..." Gianni started to say, but I interrupted by clearing my throat deliberately. He paused, confusion evident in his eyes.
"Molly, what are you up to?" he asked in a serious tone.