Sophie Laurent pushed the stroller through Central Park, trying to keep a low profile. Leo was babbling about a squirrel, his cheeks pink from the cold.
Suddenly, flashbulbs erupted from behind a hedge. Four photographers swarmed the path, blocking their way.
“Leo! Leo, over here!” one shouted, thrusting a camera into the toddler’s face. “Is your daddy sad? Is the building going to fall down?”
Leo began to cry, terrified by the aggression.
Sophie didn’t hesitate. The “Spy Nanny” vanished, replaced by a lioness. She stepped in front of the stroller, shoving the camera lens away with a force that surprised even her.
“Back off!” Sophie screamed, her voice echoing off the trees. “He is a two-year-old child! If you take one more step, I will smash that camera and sue you for harassment!”
She glared at them with such ferocity that the paparazzi actually stepped back. She scooped Leo up, shielding his face with her coat, and practically ran to the waiting town car.
That evening, William watched the footage on the security feed. He saw Sophie–the woman Beatrice had hired, the woman he had ignored–throw her body between the vultures and his son. He watched her comfort Leo in the backseat, wiping his tears. For the first time, he saw her not as an employee, but as a protector.