Matteo got off the bus and stopped in front of a group of luxurious houses, already finding the place strange. He held his cell phone tightly and checked the address they had sent him. Yes, it was there, Pine Street… eh … which seemed to be right, there were trees so tall that they seemed to disappear among the clouds. He shrugged and walked along the wide sidewalk, feeling as if he had entered an unknown world when he saw that the bricks on the ground were painted a yellow color with a phosphorescent golden tone, stretching endlessly for long kilometers that seemed to come out of a fairy tale as the rows of houses disappeared into the horizon and beyond.

He couldn't help but be amazed by that place; there were large gates that delimited the properties, separated by even higher walls. Giant trees and smaller flowerbeds with flowers in different shapes and colors that blocked the view of the other houses or what was inside those gates.

He kept walking and then stopped in front of the complex with the number 17, where another large black iron gate rose higher than he could see. Matteo couldn't express how strange it was to be in a place like that, the environment was so quiet and the absence of anyone there made his skin crawl. And just to be sure, he checked once more if that was the correct address. Matteo scratched his hair, tempted to open the email with the contractor's information once more, because it could only be a mistake; what he was witnessing could not be called a house. Now that he was getting closer to the gates, he could see that it was a group of small, beautiful and well-structured mansions. White fences, large gardens, parks, swimming pools, gyms and everything else imaginable, in addition to security guards protecting the perimeter around the property and in the areas common to all residents.

It felt like he had actually entered a parallel reality, which was strange. Matteo felt like he wasn’t someone these people would hire to work there, someone with no college degree, no qualifications, and no proper professional background. But since Matteo was here… he shrugged again. What harm was there in trying?

He walked to the front of the gate and pressed the intercom:

"Excuse me, I'm Matteo Rossi Pagano . I have a meeting with Sofia Gray at house 4.”

"Yes, good morning. Miss Gray left a message." The helpful and polite doorman told him. "She apologizes for not being able to receive you personally. We will direct you to the location.”

Matteo was left to thank him and wait for the gates to open.

He swore he was trying to keep an open mind, but then the weirdest thing happened. As a part of the gate slid aside, two security guards three times his size looked him up and down and stopped in front of him.

"Documents. They're the condominium rules." Matteo found it even stranger, but it was okay. Since he had embarked on this madness, he would see it through to the end.

He unzipped his backpack and handed them his driver's license. The taller, red-haired man took the document from his hands and pulled out a clipboard from inside the guardhouse post, stepped closer to him, looked at the information on his ID and then seemed to compare it with the information on the file.

The same bodyguard wrote something on the paper and handed the document and clipboard to him, saying: "Sign here." That was all the redhead said to him before Matteo quickly signed and the security guard checked the signature. When the information seemed to match, the other security guard who was standing next to him waved and guided Matteo to a car that was waiting for him in front of another smaller gate.

Matteo let himself be led to the next gate and felt like laughing; first, was this some kind of luxurious prison? And second, why was there a mini golf cart there? The most interesting thing was that the car even came with a private driver.

Still finding it funny, he got into the car, put on his seatbelt and came across a boy his age, somewhere between twenty and twenty-five, brown hair, black eyes and a beautiful, wide smile.

"First time here?”

He nodded, trying not to show how much it all bothered and amused him at the same time.

"Don't worry, everyone gets a little scared the first time. What's your name?”

"Matteo.”

"It's a pleasure, Matteo. You can call me Gabe. I'll give you a ride for as long as you're here.”

"Why? Do you think I won't stay long?”

“No one stays. It's nothing personal. You know how these people are.”

"What are they like?”

"I think you'll find out, won't you?”

So, before he knew it, Gabe stopped the car in front of house number 4.

Grinning with dimples and white teeth, Gabe asked, “Can I?” And before Matteo could answer, Gabe helped him unbuckle his seatbelt, walked around the car, and held out his hand to him.

"Don't forget, don't take it personally." He winked at Matteo, all charming and walked around the car, getting into the driver's seat.

“Okay. Nothing personal. Sure.” Matteo thought to himself, watching Gabe quickly walk away through the streets of the condominium, pulling away from there in his little car.

He allowed himself to take a deep breath and stared at the two-story house that was surrounded by a garden so extensive that it was impossible to see anything but nature, a few cars, and more trees that grew tall with voluminous foliage. Matteo had no choice but to try to ignore the exuberance of the place, telling himself, it was nothing special; this would be just another job where he would stay for a few months, make some money, and move on to the next job until he had enough money to pay for his studies. Just another one among many others.

He took a few more steps towards the door and climbed the few steps, which were made of white and gray marble, following the rest of the house's design; everything was very pale and in pastel tones, which was clear even from the outside of the house. Then he rang the doorbell before his nerves got the best of him, leaving Matteo to take another deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

He straightened his wrinkled clothes and held onto the strap of his backpack, running his hand through his hair, trying to fix it in the reflection of his cell phone screen, which proved to be useless. There was no miracle in this world that would make him feel appropriate or well-dressed, so he forced himself to wait as patiently as someone like him could.

It was no big deal, he told himself, once more. He always got nervous on the first day, and it didn't even have to do with the insufferable or abusive bosses Matteo had had the pleasure of dealing with, no, it was all ingrained in his skin no matter where he went. It was part of his psychological condition. Although it didn't last long.

Impatient and overcome by anxiety, he rang the doorbell again, pressing the button harder than he intended at the exact moment the door opened abruptly, revealing a tall man, almost two meters tall, with messy black hair and intense green eyes that stared at him with disinterest. The man seemed to have jumped out of bed, wearing only gray sweatpants and showing... showing a trail of hair that led to a certain large volume in that place.

"Yes?" The man said hoarsely, his eyes barely open and so serious that Matteo thought about turning around and escaping that strange situation.

Feeling even worse, as if someone was twisting his insides, Matteo kept his eyes above the half-naked man's shoulders and checked his phone, double-checking the email the agency had sent.

House 4. Employer - Sofia Gray.

"May I speak to Mrs. Sofia Gray?

"Come back next month. Maybe next year, yeah? I never thought she liked the younger ones…" The man muttered quietly as if Matteo shouldn't have heard, especially the last part, distracted, not even seeming to care about his presence.

“Sir…?”

"Moore, Derek Moore." He said reluctantly, yawning.

"Mr. Moore." Matteo said. He made a point of ignoring what the man was insinuating. "I was told about the childcare vacancy. The agency sent me here.”

"Ah.”

Derek Moore didn't act as Matteo expected. No, the man just raised his eyebrows and looked at him for the first time, seeming to analyze him, dissecting him with his analytical and intense green eyes, as if trying to decide if Matteo was worth his time. Which made Matteo feel even weirder, wanting to hide and punch that man in the face at the same time.

“Do you have experience with children?” Derek Moore told him, even though that wasn’t what the man had intended to say. That much was clear to Matteo.

"I've been taking care of my brothers since I was a child. Will that do?" When Matteo saw that it seemed too disrespectful, he added: "The ad didn't require any specifications.”

"Let me see.”

It didn't seem like it was a request.

"Sure." He shrugged, pretending not to care about the whole interrogation.

Matteo handed the phone to Mr. Moore and felt victorious when the man found nothing wrong. Mr. Moore just seemed to read it, turned his head to the side and sighed deeply, saying, “Typical of her.”

"If you want, I can leave." After all, no amount of money was enough to get through that kind of humiliation. Or what was yet to come. Matteo was never sure what might happen.

"It's not your fault. Come in.”

Mr. Moore made room for Matteo to enter and then the door closed, starting something he could never have predicted.