The Nanny // Faye Yoko AU

Chapter 56 Push and Pull

Back in the penthouse

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light filtering through the windows. Faye and Adam sat across from each other, their discussion focused, efficient. The air carried the usual weight of careful planning—plans that could mean the difference between control and chaos.

"As per usual, you'll be driving us," Faye said, her tone measured.

Adam nodded, already knowing his role but waiting for the details.

"A car will be waiting at the station for the final leg," she continued. "I need you to wait with the rental all evening, in case we need a quick exit."

Adam leaned back slightly, stroking his beard with a grin. "Fine by me. I've got a new book, anyway," he said, ever the calm presence in high-stakes situations.

Before Faye could respond, the sound of footsteps made her straighten slightly.

"Ma'am."

The moment Yoko's voice filled the room, Faye felt it—a jolt, sharp and unwelcome.

Her entire body tensed before she could stop herself.

Last night. It felt so real—kissing Yoko, feeling her heat against her abdomen—but it had only been an illusion. The memory crashed into her before she could shove it down, a fabrication of longing and desire. The intrusive thoughts, the way her breath had caught when Yoko pressed against her in her mind, the heat curling at the edges of her imagination, the way she had almost lost herself to something that had never truly happened.

Faye didn't dare look up immediately. Instead, she took a slow, measured breath, but it did nothing to stop the way her skin prickled at Yoko's presence. It was maddening how effortlessly the woman could unnerve her, how just the sound of her voice had the power to pull Faye straight back to the night before—the shadowed room, the faint scent of jasmine clinging to Yoko's skin, the slight hitch in her breath when Faye's lips had grazed the line of her jaw.

Yoko stepped into the room, and Faye finally forced herself to look up. Their eyes met, and something electric passed between them. Yoko's dark eyes held a flicker of amusement, as if she knew exactly where Faye's thoughts had gone and was reveling in the power of it.

"Updates?" Faye asked, her voice sharp, controlled—though it felt like a thin veil over the chaos beneath.

Yoko tilted her head, the corner of her mouth curving into something almost teasing. She was deliberate in the way she moved, slow, languid, as if she had all the time in the world. "Nothing pressing," she murmured, her gaze never wavering from Faye's. "I still need a dress for tomorrow—"

"Conte is already sorting it out," Faye cut in, her tone leaving no room for argument.

A pause. The air between them grew thick, charged. Faye knew Adam was watching, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Yoko. It was dangerous, this thing between them, this push and pull that threatened to unravel her carefully maintained control.

"I see," Yoko replied, her tone measured.

For a brief second, she wanted to push back—to say something just to gauge a reaction. But the way Faye was holding herself so stiffly, so unnaturally still, made Yoko reconsider. It wasn't just tension; it was restraint, a visible effort to hold something at bay. That realization sent a thrill through Yoko, a confirmation of what she had only suspected before. Instead, she simply nodded, her lips curling ever so slightly, and turned to leave, letting Faye sit in the discomfort of it.

But Yoko changed her mind. Rather than letting it go, she took a step closer to Faye, closing the space between them. Faye swore she could feel the warmth radiating from her body, the nearness almost suffocating. "Did you sleep well?" Yoko asked, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with something unreadable.