Sebastián Rivas had hidden cameras installed in every corner of the house. He was convinced the new nanny would disappoint him like all the others. But when he finally reviewed the footage, what he saw wasn’t betrayal or negligence. It was his four-year-old son doing something Sebastián had never expected — and it broke him in ways he wasn’t prepared for.
At thirty-two, Sebastián Rivas seemed to have it all: a sleek penthouse in Puerto Madero, luxury cars in the garage, investments multiplying quietly in the background. Success followed him everywhere. Everything, except peace. Eight months earlier, his wife, Camila, had died in a car accident, and with her went the warmth that once filled their home.
Now it was just him and Mateo — a small boy with deep brown eyes that looked more and more like Camila’s every day. That resemblance felt like a blade twisting in Sebastián’s chest each morning.
“I need another nanny,” he had told his assistant two days before.
She would be the fourteenth.
He always found a reason to dismiss them. They were late. Too informal. Not attentive enough. Something always felt wrong.