Nanny and the Alpha Daddy

#Chapter 202: Under Supervision

Moana

The bodyguard dropped me off in front of the school, and I got out of the car.

Already, as I walked up the pathway to the entrance of the school, I could see that some of the older students and even other teachers were giving me strange looks. I didn’t think too much of it, however, as I had just gotten out of an unmarked vehicle with tinted windows and an intimidating-looking man in the driver’s seat. I would have stared at me, too.

But as I headed inside, the staring continued. Even people who hadn’t seen me get out of the car were giving me odd looks. I felt as though people were whispering about me; but, once again, I decided not to let it get to me and headed to my classroom.

Once I got to my classroom, I decided to head to the faculty lounge to make myself a cup of coffee and warm up a scone, just as I always did when I first got to school. When I entered the faculty lounge, a couple of other teachers were sitting at the table and chatting. As soon as I walked in, though, their conversation stopped abruptly.

“Good morning,” I said with a warm smile as I walked over to the coffee machine, trying not to show how uncomfortable I felt. “How was everyone’s weekend?”

One of the teachers, who was a high school math teacher that I had only ever exchanged pleasantries with before, sort of scoffed. Something about it made the hairs on the back of my neck raise, and I turned to face her.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, feeling anger beginning to bubble up inside of me as I was instantly reminded of what it felt like when those wealthy werewolf women were nasty to me at the networking event that I went to with Edrick.

nothing,” the teacher said, waving her hand dismissively and throwing me a

the male teacher who was sitting with her spoke up when he realized that I knew that something was going

Well, we

my arms across my

went red. “There are some rumors circulating that you’re not actually human,

my coffee out into my cup. Other than that, the air in the room was thick

continued. “It’s just that… Well, late bloomers are very rare. Some people see

that they were talking about me. But now, to hear that they were talking about my baby? “What about my

on land. Suddenly, the female teacher spoke up. “More often than not, the children of late bloomers come out with all sorts of… developmental problems,” she said. The female teacher was far

up, not caring that I sloshed it on the counter in my haste, then turned and stormed off toward the door. Just before I left, though, I

about me, but don’t you dare gossip about my baby,” I growled. There was a lot more I wanted to say, but I chose not to. And with

…

me a toothless grin. I moved on to the next student, and repeated the same drill. “Here you go…” I said, crouching down to the little boy’s level. “Like this…” I showed him how to use the scissors, and then held his hand while he cut.

of the children suddenly

a moment, Jeremy,” I replied.