The Night Everything Changed
Time passed quickly. It was Marianna's fifth birthday already. Hannah Beaumont had prepared what should have been a perfect evening—a celebration filled with laughter, light, and quiet joy within the walls of her sprawling estate. Her daughter, the centre of her secluded world, was surrounded by the only people Hannah trusted: Jophiel, Ariel, Seraphiel, Metatron, and Rachel - the five nannies handpicked to nurture every aspect of Marianna's growth.
The living room was nothing short of a masterpiece. Rare artwork from across the world adorned the towering walls, while soft golden lighting gave the space an ethereal glow. The air was filled with the sweet scent of fresh lilies and warm vanilla, with a grand piano in the corner playing a soft melody on an automated loop.
Yet beneath this picture of perfection, something far more profound was stirring—a force neither wealth nor power could control.
The Trance Begins
Just as the evening reached its peak, with Marianna's laughter ringing through the lavish room, she suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Her bright eyes, usually filled with boundless curiosity, became distant and glassy. The warmth of her glow—which had always been subtle, like the faint shimmer of moonlight—began to intensify until the room itself seemed to pulse with her energy.
"Marianna?" Hannah's voice was laced with sudden panic as she rushed to her daughter's side.
But Marianna didn't respond. Her small body stiffened, her hands falling limp at her sides. A golden light bloomed from her skin, illuminating every corner of the vast room.
"What's happening to her?" Hannah cried, turning to the nannies, desperation etched into every word. "What's wrong with my daughter?"
The five nannies exchanged brief, meaningful glances. They knew. Each of them carried the secret of their true origins. Hannah didn't know yet but they were angels in human disguise - and they were her to guard the child whose destiny was woven with the fate of light itself.
Jophiel, the radiant guide from Paris, was the first to move. Her voice was calm but urgent. "She's slipping into a trance. We must act quickly to bring her back."
"A trance? But why? What's doing this to her?" Hannah's fear mounted, but the nannies remained silent on that particular truth.
Ariel, the healer from the Amazon, took Marianna's hand and began whispering in Portuguese, her voice carrying the ancient cadence of nature's own rhythms. Seraphiel, with her deep empathy, gently placed her hands on Marianna's shoulders, humming an Ethiopian lullaby that filled the space with a calming energy.
Metatron, the mystic from Jerusalem, closed his eyes and began murmuring sacred prayers, drawing upon his spiritual power to shield Marianna from the unseen forces trying to claim her mind. Rachel, the nurturing soul from Ireland, wrapped the room in the soothing comfort of a Gaelic lullaby, her soft voice weaving warmth and protection around the child.
Hannah, overwhelmed and helpless, could only watch as the glowing aura around her daughter intensified, casting shadows in the room around her. "Please," she whispered, voice breaking, "come back to me, Marianna."
Minutes passed like hours, the golden glow illuminating the worry etched into every face in the room. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the light dimmed, and Marianna's small body went limp.
"Mom?" Marianna's voice was weak but steady, her eyes blinking open slowly.
Hannah's breath caught as she gathered her daughter into her arms. "I'm here, darling. I'm here."
The nannies, though relieved, remained deeply concerned. This was not the end—it was only the beginning.
A Nightmare Across the City
At the same moment, miles away, Phillips Grayson awoke with a gasp, drenched in sweat.
The dream had been horrifyingly vivid. He had seen Marianna surrounded by a swirling void of shadows, her small form radiating a brilliant light. Around her, demonic figures with hollow eyes and jagged claws reached out, whispering offers of unimaginable power. Their voices echoed with promises of control, influence, and immortality.
"She can rule the world, Grayson. Just let us guide her."
He had reached out for her in the dream, desperate to pull her away from the encroaching darkness—but just as his fingertips brushed her glowing form, the shadows surged forward, engulfing her light.
Gasping for breath, Phillips sat up in bed, the memory of the dream seared into his mind. The hollow emptiness of his estate echoed around him, his wealth offering no comfort against the gnawing fear that something was deeply wrong.
"No," he whispered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I won't let them take her."
But the truth clawed at him with brutal clarity: he couldn't protect Marianna—not from this distance, not from within the confines of the empire he'd built to shield his secrets.
The Weight of Secrecy
Back at Hannah's estate, Marianna had fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep, her tiny body curled up beneath a cascade of silk sheets. Hannah sat by her bedside, eyes rimmed with tears, as the five nannies stood nearby in solemn silence.
"What was that?" Hannah's voice was raw. "What just happened to her?"
The nannies exchanged glances again, this time with a heavier sense of responsibility.
Jophiel spoke first, choosing her words carefully. "She connected with something beyond our understanding—forces that want to reach her."
"What forces? And why her?" Hannah demanded, her fear sharpening into frustration. "What do you know that I don't? Why won't any of you tell me the truth?"
Metatron's expression was gentle but firm. "It's not time yet, Hannah. You need to trust us."
"She's my daughter!" Hannah's voice cracked, her hands trembling as she stroked Marianna's golden curls. "I deserve to know what's happening to her!"
Ariel knelt beside her. "You will. But right now, knowing too much would only put both of you in greater danger."
Hannah's chest tightened with a mixture of fear and helplessness. For all her power and wealth, she felt utterly useless. The fortress she had built around her daughter suddenly seemed fragile—an illusion of safety against forces she couldn't even begin to comprehend.
"Just tell me one thing," she whispered. "Is she in danger?"
Seraphiel's voice was soft but filled with certainty. "Yes. But as long as we are with her, we will do everything in our power to keep her safe."
Phillips' Silent Agony
Across the city, Phillips sat alone in his dimly lit study, staring at a photograph of Marianna on his tablet. The picture showed her holding Hannah's hand at a charity event, her smile radiant and pure, oblivious to the weight of the secrets surrounding her.
Every fibre of Phillips' being ached to protect her—to step out of the shadows and claim the role fate had denied him.
But he couldn't.
The world could never know the truth. His empire, his family, his carefully crafted image—all of it would crumble if the secret of Marianna's existence came to light. And yet, as the nightmares grew darker and more real, the distance between him and his daughter became unbearable.
"I'll protect you," he murmured into the silence, his voice a broken promise. "Even if you never know who I am."
A Destiny Unfolding
As the night deepened, the tension in both Hannah and Phillips' worlds remained thick with unspoken fears. The nannies watched over Marianna with unwavering vigilance, their angelic senses attuned to any hint of danger.
And in the shadows of dreams and reality, unseen forces stirred—some drawn by the purity of Marianna's light, others determined to bend it to their will.
The true battle had only just begun.
And the question that haunted them all lingered:
How long could they shield Marianna from a destiny none of them fully understood?