THE MILLIONAIRE’S TWINS WERE BLIND, UNTIL THEIR NEW NANNY DID SOMETHING THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING…
Displaced. The next morning, Ramiro entered his office and asked to speak to Mrs. Gómez, his trusted housekeeper for over 20 years. “I want you to investigate everything about that woman,” he ordered bluntly. Family, friends, past, what she’s hiding. I want to know how much of a shadow she followed when she arrived here. Mrs. Gómez frowned.
Sir, with all due respect, Lucía has been an angel to the children. Since she’s been here, they’ve smiled, played, and even eaten better. Precisely for that reason, Ramiro interrupted icily. No one gives so much without expecting something in return. The housekeeper looked at him sadly, but nodded obediently.
She knew that when Ramiro Valverde set his sights on something, nothing could stop him. Meanwhile, Lucía was in the library with the twins. She was teaching them to read in bra, not with formal books, but with an improvised method. She had glued buttons, seeds, and grain onto cardboard so they could recognize the textures. “This means sun,” she explained, guiding Leo’s little fingers over a row of lentils.
“And this one?” Bruno asked, gently touching some lined-up chickpeas. “That’s Mom.” Silence filled the room. The children stared at each other as if their mother’s soul had appeared between the invisible letters. Lucía said nothing more; she just hugged them. A few days later, Mrs. Gómez returned with a sealed envelope and handed it to Ramiro.
Here you are, sir. The millionaire opened it with eager hands. Inside, he found reports, copies of documents, and clippings. He discovered that Lucía came from a humble family in a suburban neighborhood, that she had worked as an assistant at a community center for children with disabilities, and that she had suddenly left everything after her mother’s death. But what caught his attention most was a note in the margin.
She was seen several times visiting the grave of Mrs. Elena Valverde. Ramiro was stunned. Elena Valverde was his late wife. “What the hell?” he muttered, the whiskey glass trembling in his hand. That night, unable to sleep, Ramiro went down to the living room. He found Lucía on the sofa with Bruno and Leo asleep on her lap. She was gently stroking the children’s hair, singing in a whisper.
Ramiro watched her, hidden in the shadows. Something inside him broke. He saw tenderness, warmth, something all his money couldn’t buy. But his mind was torn. What was that woman doing visiting his wife’s grave? What secret relationship was there between them? The silence of the mansion was filled with his own thoughts.
“I won’t let you play with my family, Lucía,” he whispered into the darkness. “Before you take my children away from me, I’ll find out who you really are.” The next day, Lucía woke up with a strange feeling. There was something in the air, a distrust that weighed on her.
Ramiro no longer looked at her with indifference; now he looked at her with suspicion, as if her every gesture were part of a hidden plan. The twins, on the other hand, hugged her more tightly. They sensed, without fully understanding, that something was changing. Lucía hugged the children to her chest and silently promised herself that, no matter what Ramiro thought, she would never leave them alone again.
The day dawned gray with a sky that seemed foreboding. The silence in the mansion was different, denser, as if every wall were guarding a secret. Lucía woke up with the twins still snuggled up beside her, and for a moment she thought everything was at peace, but she would soon discover that this day would be the most difficult since her arrival. Ramiro had gone three nights in a row without sleeping.
The whiskey barely calmed him, and every time he closed his eyes, the same image returned. He was standing in front of the grave of Elena, his dead wife. What was she doing there? What did her closeness to the twins mean? Was she an imposter? That morning, Ramiro walked down the hall with firm steps.
There was Lucía helping Bruno and Leo walk down the corridor, patiently guiding them. The children were laughing, each holding onto an end of her scarf to hold on. One more step, Leo. You can do it, Lucía encouraged. Almost there, almost there, Bruno said, holding back his laughter. The twins stumbled, but Lucía held them tenderly.
It was at that moment that Ramiro spoke in a voice so icy it froze the room. “I want to talk to you alone.” Lucía looked up in surprise. The millionaire’s tone brooked no reply. The children also sensed it and immediately clung to her hand. “Dad,” Leo whispered uneasily. “Now,” Ramiro repeated harshly.
Lucía took the children to Mrs. Gómez’s to babysit for a moment. When she returned to the living room, Ramiro was standing by the window, hands behind his back, staring at the cloudy horizon. “What does this mean?” he asked without turning around, throwing the envelope containing the papers he had ordered examined onto the table.
Lucía stood still, recognizing the documents immediately, her life reduced to reports and notes. “I don’t understand what you’re looking for with this, Mr. Valverde,” she replied calmly, although inside her heart was pounding. “What I’m looking for is the truth,” he said, finally turning around. “And the truth is, someone like you doesn’t just happen to show up at my house.”
”
Lucía held his gaze without lowering her eyes. “I came because they needed someone to take care of Bruno and Leo. That’s all.” Ramiro slammed his fist on the table. “Don’t lie to me. I know you visited my wife’s grave. Why? What relationship did you have with Elena?” The silence that followed was so heavy it seemed the entire mansion was holding its breath.
Lucía closed her eyes for a moment and then replied in a low voice, “Because Elena was the only person who ever believed in me.” Ramiro shuddered. “What do you mean? I was just a teenager when I met her. My mother volunteered at the community hospital. Elena went there secretly, without cameras or press, to support sick children.
One day she saw me reading aloud to the little ones. She was the first to tell me I had a gift for teaching, for connecting. The memories filled Lucía’s eyes with tears. She encouraged me to keep studying, even though I had no money. She gave me books, advised me, treated me like a younger sister. I never forgot her kindness.
When she died, I felt I should thank her, even if it was with flowers on her grave. That’s why I went. Only for that.” Ramiro froze. He hadn’t expected that answer. “And why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice breaking. “Because I thought she wouldn’t believe me. Because I thought Lucía looked him straight in the eyes.”
You live surrounded by suspicions and walls so high that any truth that doesn’t come with a seal of prestige is immediately dismissed.” The millionaire squeezed. His jaw tightened. Part of him wanted to believe her, but another part still resisted. He’d spent too many years fighting the pain, hiding it under money and control. Trusting someone like Lucía meant opening the wound that never healed.
“If what you say is true,” Ramiro said in a low but firm voice, “then prove that you’re not here to take advantage of my children.” “I’ve already proven it,” she replied calmly. “Look at them, Mr. Valverde. Bruno and Leo laugh, dream, learn. Not because I’m special, but because they are. I just accompany them.”
The firmness in her voice left Ramiro speechless for a moment. The silence was interrupted by quick footsteps. Bruno and Leo ran gropingly inside, looking for Lucía. “Where are you?” Bruno asked. “We need you,” Leo added, reaching for nothing. Lucía ran to them and hugged them. The children clung to her as if afraid of losing her. Ramiro watched them.
His twins, who had previously lived in apathy, were now laughing and seeking to learn. All thanks to that woman he had interrogated as if she were an enemy. His anger slowly dissipated, replaced by a feeling he couldn’t remember: Guilt. He said nothing more. He just walked out of the room with heavy steps, leaving Lucía with the twins.
But deep down, something inside him had begun to crack. That night, Ramiro drank alone again. In the silence of his office, he murmured, “Elena, did you send her?” And for the first time in a long time, he felt he wasn’t alone in the darkness. The Valverde mansion dawned with a different air.
The sun, which rarely managed to penetrate the heavy windows of that always solemn place, streamed in forcefully, illuminating the gallery of family portraits. Lucía woke up early, as always, but that morning she noticed something in the children that moved her to the core.
Bruno and Leo were no longer passively waiting for her to pick them up. “Today I want to get dressed by myself,” Bruno said firmly, feeling along the edge of the bed for his shoes. “And I want to comb my hair,” Leo added, laughing as he clumsily lifted the comb. Lucía watched them silently, a lump in her throat. They were small steps forward, yes, but they were the first glimmers of independence in children who until recently had lived in isolation, unwilling to fight.
While she helped them, Ramiro watched them unseen from the doorway. His lips tightened. What he saw disarmed him. His twins, who had spent years subdued, now had will, energy, and enthusiasm. He couldn’t deny it anymore. Something in Lucía was awakening life in them, but immediately afterward, doubt returned like poison.
And if it was all part of a hidden plan, and if he was ingratiating himself with the children and then manipulating them. Ramiro had built his empire on mistrust, and that instinct was hard to extinguish. Breakfast that morning was unusual. Bruno and Leo arrived at the table smiling. Mrs. Gómez couldn’t believe it.
