Reborn Nanny, I Know Who Will Kill The Little Heiress

The Montgomery family ruled both the corporate world and the shadows of the city, yet for nine generations, a strange curse haunted their bloodline: every generation produced only a single male heir.
Little Poppy was the first girl born into the Montgomery family in over a century. They treated her like a princess carved from diamond.
In my past life, she died a horrific death at just three and a half years old.
As her nanny, I became the prime suspect. Fake evidence of abuse was planted in my room. The Montgomerys looked at me as if I were already a corpse. When I was dragged down to the basement, I screamed until my voice cracked, "It wasn't me!"
Nobody knew the real monster was Bianca, the sweet, polished girlfriend Gavin had brought home.
Faced with the family, she was an angel. Behind closed doors, she was a psychopath. She locked Poppy in dark rooms, pinched her tiny arms, terrified her, and whispered bitterly, "What makes you so special that your brother talks about you every single second?"
After I died, my soul drifted in cold darkness, watching the full horror of Bianca's evil unfold.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she stepped into the Montgomery estate for the very first time.
In my arms, three-year-old Poppy clutched my collar, asking in her tiny, adorable voice, "Auntie Hannah, who is that lady?"
I pulled her tight against my chest.
This time, I will never let her touch a single hair on your head. Not even once.

1
Starting from old Thomas Montgomery, nine generations of the main bloodline yielded nothing but boys.
The day Poppy was born, her grandfather Thomas spent the entire night in the family chapel. The next morning, he tore down the old stables in the back courtyard and built a glasshouse nursery.
Her father, Richard Montgomery, the ruthless titan who ran the city's financial empire, held her for the first time like a stiff block of wood, afraid to even bend his fingers.
And then there was her older brother, Gavin.
He was the sharpest blade of the young generation. Taking over corporate operations at twenty-four, he could bleed rivals dry at the negotiation table without blinking.
Yet around Poppy, his booming voice dropped to a soft whisper. The day Poppy learned to say "Gavin," he canceled an international board meeting just to sit on the carpet building Lego towers with her all afternoon.
Back then, I thought Poppy was the safest child on earth.
Who would dare touch a Montgomery princess?
Until Bianca walked into our lives.
When she arrived, she handed me a lavish gift box. "A little plush doll for Poppy. Nothing fancy, just a small token from me."
In my past life, I took it.
That night, Poppy broke out in severe hives and sobbed until three in the morning. The family doctor couldn't pinpoint the trigger, while Bianca stood by with red, teary eyes, sighing, "Could there have been a mistake in her daily care? Her skin is just so delicate."
That was the first time she pointed a hidden blade at my neck.
This time, staring at the box held out to me, my fingers tightened until my knuckles turned white.
Poppy leaned over my shoulder, curious, reaching out her tiny hand.
I gently caught her tiny wrist. "Miss Bianca, I appreciate it, but I can't accept this."
The entire living room fell silent. Everyone turned to look at me.
I placed the box back into her hands. "Poppy just finished her quarterly allergy panel last week. The doctor strictly ordered that any new toys, fabrics, or scents must pass a lab check before touching her skin."
"I thank you on Poppy's behalf, but this needs to go to the medical staff first."
The smile on Bianca's face froze for half a second. A flicker of icy malice flashed in her eyes. It was fast, but I caught it.
Gavin frowned slightly. "Is all that really necessary?"
I lowered my head respectfully. "Sir, if Poppy suffers an allergic reaction at night, she cries for three hours straight. She suffers terrible pain."
That single line shut Gavin up completely.
Richard lifted his eyes from behind his financial journal and said calmly, "Do as Hannah says."
Bianca pasted her perfect smile back on. "Of course. Safety comes first. Hannah is a true professional, I completely trust her judgment."
She sounded so graceful, so understanding.
But I knew better. The grudge had already taken root in her venomous heart.

2
During dinner, Bianca put on a flawless performance.
She chatted comfortably with old Thomas about historical architecture, poured tea for Richard, and even offered to go into the kitchen afterward to learn how to make Poppy's favorite milk pudding.
The maids whispered among themselves that Gavin had found a gem. Clean background, stellar degrees, gentle demeanor.
Only Poppy refused to get close to her.
Bianca knelt by the carpet, waving a velvet bunny to entice her. "Poppy, sweetie, come give Bianca a big hug, okay?"
Poppy shrank back into my arms, her little fingers clutching my uniform button. "Auntie Hannah hold me."
I knew it wasn't just shyness.
A three-year-old child reads instincts far better than adults do. She might not understand evil, but she can sense raw malice radiating off a person.
Bianca let out a soft, hurt sigh. "Does Poppy not like me?"
Gavin crouched down, softening his voice. "Poppy, look, she brought you a gift."
I scooped Poppy up and stood. "Mr. Gavin, Poppy didn't get enough sleep during her afternoon nap. She's getting cranky. I should take her upstairs."
Bianca's eyes flickered. "Hannah, I actually studied child psychology. When a toddler resists a newcomer, running away behind a nanny only reinforces the fear."
"Why don't you let me play with her for ten minutes? Once she gets used to me, she'll be fine."
In my past life, it was those exact ten minutes.
She managed to clear the staff out, claiming she was taking Poppy to see the koi pond in the flower garden.
When Poppy returned, her long sleeves were pulled down tight. She didn't cry or speak, just clutched her tiny hands together all night. There were no visible bruises.
Only later did the autopsy report reveal deep, hidden soft tissue damage on her wrists.
That evening was where the nightmare began.
I locked eyes with Bianca. "Miss Bianca, child psychology theories are great, but hands-on care requires reading the child's real-time state. She is actively refusing right now. Forcing interaction will only traumatize her."
Bianca smiled thinly. "You seem very guarded against me, Hannah."
The living room dropped several degrees.
She had drawn a line in the sand. A hired nanny, acting overly suspicious of the heir's girlfriend.
To any outsider, it looked completely out of line.
Before I could speak, Poppy buried her face into the crook of my neck, muttering softly, "Don't want her."
The voice was small, but Gavin heard every word.
His expression instantly shifted. He stepped forward and carefully took Poppy from my arms, his movements surprisingly gentle for a man rumored to be a cold-blooded monster in the corporate world.
"Then you don't have to," Gavin said softly.
A flash of humiliation passed over Bianca's face, her eyes welling with tears. "I was just too eager. I'm sorry, Poppy."
If this were my past life, I might have thought she was being reasonable.
Now, it made my stomach turn.
That night, after putting Poppy to bed, I returned to my quarters and pulled out my phone.
I logged an entry and sent it directly to the family physician:
"Daily Log Update: Miss Bianca brought an unverified plush toy, secured. Child showed active avoidance toward Miss Bianca for seven minutes. No crying, no skin abnormalities."
In my past life, I relied on verbal explanations, which meant no one believed me.
This time, I was going to leave an undeniable paper trail for every single day, every single detail.
The next morning, the medical lab report came back.
The interior stuffing of the plush toy contained micro-scented botanical beads. To an adult, it was just a faint milk scent. But to a child with severe allergies like Poppy, it was guaranteed to trigger intense rashes and night terrors.
The doctor handed the report straight to Richard.
Bianca looked utterly shocked and burst into tears on the spot. "I swear I had no idea the shop put those inside! It was my oversight, I'm so sorry!"
Her tears fell right on cue.
Gavin's face was dark, but he didn't blow up at her. Because at most, this looked like a careless mistake, not malice.
I stood off to the side, watching Bianca dab her eyes with a tissue.
When she looked up, her gaze locked onto mine.
In that split second, a chilling glare flashed across her eyes.
She was sending me a silent message:
Round one goes to you. But this is far from over.

3
Over the next two weeks, Bianca never tried to touch Poppy again.
Instead, she launched a quiet smear campaign against me.
She would remark casually in front of Gavin, "Hannah works so hard, and Poppy is just so attached to her. I'm really worried Hannah might burn out from the pressure."
She brought gourmet pastries for the house staff, asking with a sweet smile, "Does Poppy only listen to Hannah? What will happen when Hannah takes a vacation?"
When Poppy whimpered and refused to let her come near, Bianca would lower her head, laughing self-deprecatingly, "Maybe kids just don't like me. Or maybe she's just used to depending on one single person."
Taken individually, none of those comments sounded malicious.
Put together, they wove a suffocating trap.
The Montgomerys began to feel I was becoming too possessive, that Poppy was overly dependent on me, and that a nanny had no right to stand between the future lady of the house and the child.
This time, I didn't waste breath arguing.
I took three concrete steps.
First, I kept a meticulous, daily digital log. Physical copy in the nursery, electronic copy synced live to the doctor, the head butler Bernard, and Richard's executive secretary.
Second, I created an emotional flashcard system for Poppy.
Red meant 'don't like'. Blue meant 'scared'. Yellow meant 'hurts'. Green meant 'okay'.
A three-year-old child cannot handle intense questioning from adults. I didn't force her to point fingers at anyone.
I simply taught her how to express her physical boundaries. "Poppy, if anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, don't be afraid. Just show Auntie Hannah the red card."
Poppy tilted her head. "Even Gavin?"
"Even Gavin. Even Grandpa. Anyone."
She thought hard about it and nodded with great seriousness.
Third, I formally submitted a request for additional security camera coverage in the play area.
My official reason was rock-solid: anti-fall monitoring and child safety review. All footage would be stored on a secure legal server managed by Butler Bernard and the legal department. No single individual had the authority to delete files.
Butler Bernard brought the application form back to me. "Hannah, you do realize this puts you under constant surveillance as well?"
"I have nothing to hide," I replied calmly.
Bernard searched my face for a long time. He had served the Montgomery family for forty years, his eyes sharp as a hawk.
"Do you know something you're not telling me?" he asked quietly.
I couldn't tell him I had died once.
Instead, I broke down Bianca's past tactics into realistic safety protocols. "Bernard, I just want to keep Poppy safe, and keep myself protected."
Bernard fell silent for a moment, then took the paper.
That evening, Richard approved the installation.
When Bianca found out, her composure slipped for the very first time. "Hannah, putting up so many cameras, won't that ruin the child's privacy?"
I met her gaze dead-on. "A three-year-old child's privacy does not include being alone with an adult in camera blind spots."
Her eyes went cold. "What are you implying?"
I smiled politely. "Exactly what I said, Miss Bianca. Don't overthink it."
After that day, the rumors among the staff grew nastier.
Some said I acted like I owned half the estate.
Some said I was using the child to manipulate the young master.
Others claimed my six-figure monthly salary made me desperate to block the future mistress of the house.
I heard every word, but I didn't care to explain.
I didn't need people to believe me right now.
I needed to make sure that when Bianca finally made her move, she would have zero chance of survival.
However, I underestimated her desperation.
She moved against me sooner than expected.
One evening, Poppy suddenly developed a low-grade fever.
I followed standard procedure, checking her temperature, logging the reading, and notifying the family doctor.
Before the doctor arrived, Bianca appeared at the doorway, wrapping a light cardigan around herself, her face full of anxiety.
"Why is she suddenly burning up? Hannah, did you give her something bad?"
Before I could reply, she picked up a bottle of liquid infant vitamins from the nightstand.
"How long has this bottle been open?"
That bottle wasn't mine. I knew the moment I saw it.
In my past life, the contraband drug bottle found in my room had the exact same scratch mark on the side of the label.
Bianca was setting the trap early.

4
I didn't touch the bottle.
I stepped back immediately and slammed the emergency call button on the wall.
Butler Bernard and two senior maids rushed up within seconds.
In front of everyone, I pointed to the nightstand. "An unregistered bottle of medicine has appeared in the nursery. Bernard, please lock it into a sealed evidence bag immediately."
"No one touches it until the medical team arrives."
Bianca froze. She clearly hadn't expected me to call in witnesses before even looking at the bottle.
She knitted her brows delicately. "Hannah, aren't you being a bit dramatic? Maybe the doctor just left it behind last time."
I stared directly into her eyes. "Then we let the doctor confirm it."
Ten minutes later, Dr. Bennett arrived.
He examined Poppy, confirming it was just an early sign of a common cold.
When he inspected the liquid vitamin bottle, his expression turned grave.
"I did not prescribe this. The chemical contents must be sent to the lab for urgent analysis."
Bernard promptly placed the bottle into a clear tamper-evident bag.
Bianca stood beside us, looking utterly guiltless. "Thank goodness it was caught in time. That could have been dangerous."
I knew her fingerprints wouldn't be on that bottle. She was far too careful for that.
In my past life, she framed me so effortlessly precisely because she covered her tracks.
Yet, extreme caution always leaves a flaw.
She trusted her ability to control people a little too much.
The next day, Gavin called me into his private study.
He sat behind his heavy oak desk, his jaw set in a cold, rigid line.
"Hannah, you've been hostile toward Bianca lately."
I stood straight, refusing to sit. "Sir, I remain vigilant against any unverified risk."
"She is the woman I brought into this house."
"And Poppy is the child I am sworn to protect."
He raised his head, his dark eyes terrifyingly sharp.
If this were my past life, I would have panicked, stammered, and dug myself into a deeper hole.
Not anymore.
Someone who has already died once fears nothing, least of all a cold glare.
"Sir, you don't have to like my methods," I said, my voice steady as stone. "But please look at the objective logs."
"Before Miss Bianca's arrival, Poppy's night disturbances averaged once or twice a week."
"Since Miss Bianca arrived, Poppy has displayed active avoidance, severe night terrors, unexplained fevers, and now an unregistered chemical substance in her room. Every single incident is logged on a verified timeline."
Gavin's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Are you accusing her?"
"I am eliminating threats."
"What if your suspicions are completely wrong?"
I looked him in the eye, delivering every word with absolute clarity. "If I am wrong, I will resign, issue a public apology, and pay for any reputational damage out of my own pocket."
"But if I am right, sir, have you considered what happens to Poppy?"
The study fell into a suffocating silence.
Gavin's face turned terrifyingly pale, the atmospheric pressure in the room plunging to sub-zero.
Yet I didn't back down an inch.
In my past life, I backed down too much.
I backed down until Poppy died, and until I died in that dark basement.
Gavin stared at me for an eternity before finally uttering two words: "Get out."
I turned to leave.
Just as my hand touched the brass doorknob, he spoke again.
"Hannah."
I paused.
"You had better really be doing this for Poppy."
I turned back to him. "Sir, everything I do has only ever been for her."
That night, Poppy slept restlessly.
I sat by her bedside, watching her tiny face scrunched up in discomfort, gently holding her small hand.
She didn't wake up, but she squeezed my fingers tighter.
I knew Bianca was running out of patience.
And I was ready to spring my own trap in the glasshouse nursery to rip off her mask once and for all.
I went to Bernard first. "Is the backup security feed in the glasshouse still off the main server?"
Bernard paused. "How did you know about that?"
In my past life, Bianca used that exact blind spot to harm Poppy.
"Poppy dropped her toy blocks there last week," I lied smoothly. "I wanted to check the footage to see how she stumbled, but the angle was dead."
Bernard didn't press further. He had the tech team fix the angle that afternoon and rerouted the feed straight to the legal department's secure server.
Next, I replaced the tiny tracker inside Poppy's plush bunny charm.
The outer fabric remained identical, but inside sat a state-of-the-art GPS tracker and a crystal-clear emergency audio recorder.
It was standard equipment from the Montgomery security firm, completely justified for a high-profile child.
I squatted down in front of Poppy. "If Auntie Hannah isn't next to you and you feel scared, press the bunny's ear three times."
Poppy blinked her big eyes. "Will a superhero come?"
I forced a smile, though tears stung my eyes. "Faster than any superhero."
Finally, I notified Dr. Bennett, requesting him to be on standby at the estate under the guise of observing Poppy's behavioral distress near the garden.
Dr. Bennett looked at me with complex emotions. "Hannah, it feels like you're waiting for something horrible to happen."
"I pray it never happens," I said softly.
But Bianca couldn't help herself.

5
On Friday afternoon, the Montgomery family held a private dinner.
Bianca accompanied Gavin to the estate early.
She wore an elegant baby-blue dress, a diamond engagement bracelet sparkling on her wrist, a gift from Gavin.
In my past life, they were already officially engaged by this time.
In this life, because of my relentless security measures, their progress had slowed, but Bianca still held a firm grip on Gavin's trust.
Late in the afternoon, Poppy woke up from her nap.
While I was changing her clothes, Tessa, one of the younger maids, knocked and entered.
"Hannah, the medical center said the lab results need your personal signature."
In my past life, it was Tessa too.
She later confessed at my grave that Bianca had bribed her with a massive sum to lead Poppy into the glasshouse alone.
I looked at Tessa's trembling, pale fingers and nodded calmly. "Alright, I'll go down."
I handed Poppy over to Mrs. Gable, a trusted senior nursemaid.
Then, right in front of Tessa, I gently squeezed Poppy's plush bunny charm. "Poppy, remember what Auntie Hannah taught you."
Poppy nodded dutifully.
I walked out of the nursery, but I didn't head to the medical office.
Instead, I slipped into the security monitoring booth right down the hall.
Bernard was already waiting inside.
On the multi-screen display, we watched Tessa trick Mrs. Gable into leaving, claiming old Thomas wanted to see Poppy perform a nursery rhyme.
Tessa led Poppy out of the room.
Poppy reached the top of the stairs, paused, and looked back, searching for me.
My fingernails dug so deep into my palms that they nearly drew blood.
Bernard's face turned thunderous. "How dare she..."
"Wait," I whispered. "Just a few more seconds."
I wasn't holding back out of cruelty.
If we barged in right now, Bianca could easily play victim and claim it was all a misunderstanding.
I needed her to rip off her own sweet mask with her own hands.
The moment Poppy was led into the glasshouse garden, Bianca was already waiting inside.
She squatted down, offering a sweet smile and waving at Poppy. "Poppy, come look at the new orchids Bianca bought for you."
Poppy didn't move an inch.
Her tiny fingers found the plush bunny's ear.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Inside the security control room, a silent red indicator light flashed brightly.
My heart hammered violently against my ribs.
Noticing Poppy's movement, the warmth vanished from Bianca's face.
"Who taught you that?"
She stood up, taking heavy steps toward the tiny child.
"Was it Hannah?"
Poppy backed away, her voice trembling. "I want Auntie Hannah!"
Bianca bent over, her voice dropping to an icy whisper.
Yet every single word was captured crystal clear by the microphone.
"If you keep calling for her, she'll get thrown out of this house because of you."
Poppy's lower lip quivered, tears welling up.
Bianca reached out, grabbing Poppy's frail arm in a painful grip, while raising her other hand high into the air.
"Your brother is going to have his own real family soon. If you know what's good for you, stop clinging to him like a leech!"
I slammed open the control room door and sprinted out.
Bernard was even faster, slamming the master alarm button.
By the time I crashed through the glasshouse doors, Bianca was staring down at Poppy with a dark, twisted expression.
Hearing the loud crash, she instantly released her grip on Poppy.
Then, she stumbled backward onto the marble floor, her eyes instantly overflowing with tears as she shrieked:
"Hannah! Please don't push the child!"