His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 278

Chapter 278 Warning Signs

Ella

I arrived home that night, the weight of the evening still heavy on my shoulders. The glittering chandeliers, the fancy gowns, the laughter and chatter of the party all seemed like a distant dream as I stood in my dimly lit apartment, still wearing my beautiful white dress.

The words Logan had spoken to me on the drive home lingered in my mind, a soothing balm to the chaos of emotions I felt. His promise that no one would get hurt, the determination in his eyes, it somehow made me feel a little better. But could I really trust him?

I unzipped my beautiful white dress and let it fall to the floor, my reflection in the mirror looking pale and lost.

Logan was a part of a world I knew nothing about, a world that seemed both thrilling and terrifying. What would my parents think if they ever found out? What would they say if they knew I was pretending to be involved with a Mafia boss?

I shuddered at the thought, realizing with a sickening feeling that I could never tell them the truth. I was alone in this, completely and utterly alone. Even my wolf wouldn’t talk to me after our last conversation.

way to work, my heart heavy with dread. The moment I walked through the doors, I could feel the eyes on me, the whispers and glances following me down

day. He

my old job back? Because that was true, to a certain extent. I didn’t ask for

I ran into a colleague, Sarah, who greeted me with a knowing smirk. “So, Ella,” she said, her voice dripping with malice, “welcome back to the

that Mr. Henderson agreed to give me a second chance here. I didn’t expect him to be so willing when I

on her face. “Sure. By the way, is it true that you’re from that ‘Morgan’

her, my heart pounding in my chest. How did everyone know? Was

my voice as cold as I could make

against the counter as she stirred her coffee with a spoon and tapped it loudly against the side of the mug. “Oh, Ella, you always were

snapped, my voice rising slightly. “You don’t know anything about

I couldn’t quite place. Pity? Understanding? I watched as she wandered over to the door, pausing for a

You’re not like those poor sex workers or poverty-stricken women who are

words hit me like a slap in the face. Was that really what she thought of me? That I was just some spoiled rich girl,

left. I watched her walk away, a cold feeling settling in my stomach. Was she right? Was I just playing with fire,

mentioned, the ones who had no choice but to

gotten myself into? What had I done? Was

welling in my eyes. The reality of my situation was starting to sink in, and I felt overwhelmed, lost, and utterly alone. A

an Uber. Maybe

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