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.

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

judging me for walking in with a Mafia boss the other day. He had his arm around my shoulders… It still made me feel

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

colleague, Sarah, who greeted me with a knowing smirk. “So, Ella,” she said,

glad that Mr.

her knowing smirk growing on her face. “Sure. By the way, is it true that you’re from that ‘Morgan’ family? And that

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

my voice as cold as I

Ella, you always were so secretive. But you know, you should be careful. I’ve known women who

know anything about me or my relationship with…

Pity? Understanding? I watched as she wandered over to

she said. “You come from affluence. You’re not like those poor sex workers or poverty-stricken women who are used and

hit me like a slap in the face. Was that really what she thought of me? That I

up with a response, she left. I watched her walk away, a cold feeling settling in my stomach. Was

so different from those women she had mentioned, the ones who had no choice but to do what

I gotten myself into? What had

I felt overwhelmed, lost,

Uber. Maybe then I would have

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