The city blurred past the tinted windows as Ophelia Grace sat upright in the backseat of the sleek black car, a manila folder balanced across her knees. She hadn't dared lean back once since they left the orphanage. Everything about the ride, from the leather seats to the quiet hum of the engine felt foreign, expensive, and final.
She opened the folder slowly.
Confidential: For Nanny Use Only
Subject: Zhao Mei Lin
Age: 9
Daughter of Mr. Zhao Liwei, CEO of Zhao Global Holdings, headquartered in Los Angeles.
Often referred to by the press as "The King of Real Estate."
Date of Birth: [5/12/20**]
Nationality: Chinese-American
Residence: Zhao Estate, Beverly Hills
---
Family Overview:
Mei Lin is the only child of Mr. Zhao Liwei. Her mother, Ms. Vivian Zhang, left when Mei was a toddler. The girl now lives full-time under her father's guardianship within the heavily secured Zhao Estate.
---
Academic Background:
School: Crestwood Academy for Girls
Grade: 4th
Languages: Fluent English; Intermediate Mandarin
Noted Interests: Literature, science, art
---
Extracurriculars:
Piano
Swimming
---
Personality Summary:
Bright, strong-willed, and mischievous.
---
Nanny Assignment: Ophelia Grace
Daily routines, emotional support, coordination with school and staff, reporting to Mr. Zhao—Ophelia skimmed it all again even though she already knew it by heart. She closed the folder just as the car slowed.
Rain tapped gently against the windows. Beverly Hills looked polished even in the drizzle. It was nothing like Sierra Nevada's misty forests and the modest warmth of Starlight Heaven Orphanage. Here, everything was symmetrical, pristine, and guarded by gates that whispered: You don't belong here.
The iron gates of the Zhao estate opened with a smooth mechanical sweep. The driveway, lined with tall trees and stone lanterns, led them past manicured gardens and up to a marble roundabout, where a fountain sprayed arcs of water into the air.
The car came to a stop.
The door beside her opened with a soft click. A man with a wide smile and an umbrella stood waiting. He was dressed casually, his sleeves rolled up, his hair damp from walking through the rain.
"You must be Miss Grace," he said in accented but fluent English. "I'm Chen. Welcome to the Zhao estate."
Ophelia stepped out, careful not to slip on the damp stone. "Thank you."
"You're… very young," Chen said, looking her over. "Are you sure you're not the new piano teacher?"
From the other side of the car, Mr. Edger, the older gentleman who had driven her from the orphanage, shut the driver's door with a little more force than necessary.
"Chen," he said flatly, "Miss Grace has had a long journey. Maybe keep your jokes to yourself for a day."
Chen raised his hands, grinning. "Alright, alright. No offense meant."
Ophelia gave a small smile, trying to mask her nerves.
Chen offered her the umbrella and took her duffel bag instead. "Let me walk you to the door. Alfred and the staff are expecting you."
They started up the stone steps together, the rain a soft whisper around them. Mr. Edger followed a step behind, hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"You'll like Mei," Chen said conversationally. "She's smart. A little… sharp. But good underneath it all."
"That's reassuring," Ophelia said quietly.
"You'll do fine," Mr. Edger added, speaking for the first time since they left the car. "You've got the right spirit."
As they reached the covered landing at the front, the grand double doors opened.
A small welcome party had assembled just inside.
Two girls stood side by side, Sarah and Clara, both wearing matching maid uniforms, likely in their early twenties. Clara's face was all curiosity, while Sarah offered a soft, formal smile.
At the center stood a composed woman in her mid-forties, her posture straight, hands folded in front of her. Her sharp gaze swept Ophelia from head to toe, not cruel, but clearly assessing.
And finally, to her left stood a man with silver hair and dignified presence. Butler Alfred. Everything from his pristine gloves to his polished shoes suggested he ran this household with precision.
Ophelia stepped forward and gave a polite bow of her head.
"I'm Ophelia Grace," she said. "It's an honor to meet you all. I'll be caring for Miss Mei Lin from today."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Clara smiled and clapped her hands softly. "She's adorable," she whispered to Sarah.
The older maid gave her a quick nudge.
The head maid stepped forward and extended a hand. "I am Mrs. Lian, head of the housekeeping staff," she said. "We've been expecting you. Mr. Zhao instructed us to provide any support you need."
Ophelia shook her hand. "Thank you. I'm new to all this, so… please go easy on me."
That drew a faint chuckle from Sarah and one of the younger maids.
Butler Alfred gave a slight bow. "We believe in good beginnings, Miss Grace. You'll find your footing soon enough."
Behind her, Chen set her bag gently inside the threshold. "She's tougher than she looks," he said with a grin. "And very polite."
Mr. Edger gave a simple nod, meeting Ophelia's eyes one last time. "You've made it. That's what matters."
As the doors closed behind her, Ophelia inhaled the scent of fresh lilies and polished wood. She was no longer just an orphan girl. She had entered the world of the Zhaos.
And ready or not, she belonged to it now.
---
The living room radiated quiet opulence, deep mahogany panels, warm recessed lighting, and furniture arranged with effortless precision. A pale Persian rug softened the marble floor beneath their steps, and the scent of sandalwood floated subtly in the air.
Ophelia took it all in, still clutching the folder to her chest as if it could anchor her in this new, unfamiliar world.
Butler Alfred gestured toward an upholstered armchair but remained standing himself, posture as straight as a compass needle.
"Miss Grace," he began with calm authority, "please consider yourself welcomed. This estate may seem overwhelming at first, but you'll find the household to be efficient, respectful, and discreet. We are here to support you in performing your duties well."
Ophelia nodded quietly.
"I assume you've already reviewed the documents provided?" he continued, casting a glance at the folder in her hands.
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Then you are already familiar with Miss Mei Lin's routines and expectations. Your primary and only responsibility here is her care, education coordination, and personal support. You are not required to handle any other tasks."
He paced slightly, speaking with the clarity of a man who had repeated these instructions many times over the years. "Should you ever need assistance, be it with logistics, messages, or even locating items, feel free to ask any of the maids. Edgar, our driver, is also at your service, should transport or errands be needed."
Ophelia nodded again, grateful for the clarity.
"Master Zhao is not currently home," Alfred added, "but he will be returning for dinner this evening. You'll have the opportunity to meet him then."
She folded her hands politely in front of her. "Thank you, Butler Alfred."
He gave a respectful bow of the head. "Mrs. Lian, Sarah, and Clara will now escort you to your room."
Mrs. Lian stepped forward again, her presence firm but motherly. "Come, Miss Grace. Let's get you settled."
They passed through polished hallways that whispered of money, framed art, ambient lighting, and clean design everywhere. The estate was vast, but not cold. It felt... curated. Maintained with discipline but softened by lived-in grace.
When they arrived at the second floor, Mrs. Lian stopped at a pale-blue door with gold trimming and opened it.
"This will be your room," she said. "Everything has been prepared in advance. If you need adjustments—pillows, scents, whatever it may be, just say so."
Ophelia stepped inside. The room was elegant without being overwhelming. A queen-sized bed dressed in crisp ivory linen stood beside tall windows draped in pale curtains. There was a writing desk, a reading chair, and a small bookshelf already stacked with children's literature.
"Feel at home," Mrs. Lian said with a gentle smile. "Sarah and Clara will show you around the house so you don't lose your way. I'll leave you in their care now."
With a graceful nod, she stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Sarah turned to Ophelia the moment it clicked shut. "You're really pretty," she said, eyes wide with honest admiration.
Clara grinned. "Seriously. Your skin is like porcelain. I thought you were a model when you walked in."
Ophelia flushed, startled by the sudden shift in tone. "Oh—thank you," she murmured shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
The girls circled her like curious cats.
"You're tall," Clara said, voice teasing. "Those legs! And that hair—how does it stay so shiny?"
"And those curves," Sarah added. "You've got that look. Feminine but confident."
Ophelia could only smile in embarrassment, her cheeks tinged pink. "You're both very kind…"
She took a small breath and asked, "Where's Miss Mei Lin?"
Sarah glanced at the clock on the wall. "She's in her room, napping. Winter break started last week—it's mid-December, after all."
"Afternoon naps are sacred around here," Clara added, winking. "Let's show you around before she wakes up."
They led Ophelia through the estate with a cheerful pace and easy chatter. She saw the dining room, bathed in soft gold hues with a chandelier hanging like a frozen cascade. The indoor pool was a sleek marvel of glass and blue tile, mist curling above the heated surface.
They passed through the kitchen—immaculate and humming with quiet efficiency—before finally stopping at a pair of double doors near the far end of the corridor.
Sarah put a finger to her lips. "She's probably still sleeping."
Clara opened the door slowly, just enough for them to slip inside.
The room was a delicate dream.
Warm pink tones, a canopy bed draped in sheer white, plush rugs, and shelves full of neatly arranged books and dolls. In the center of it all, on the bed, lay a girl with long black lashes, pale skin, and ink-dark hair spread over her pillow like silk threads.
There was no question who she was.
"The sleeping beauty," Clara whispered, eyes soft with fondness.
"She's gorgeous," Ophelia breathed.
Clara nodded. "Not surprised, are you? Have you seen her father?"
Sarah laughed silently behind her hand.
"I never saw her mother," Clara went on, lowering her voice further, "but Mrs. Lian said she was just as stunning."
They lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, the hush of the room wrapping around them like a gentle lullaby.