Semua Bab Beneath The Billionaire’s Mask: Chasing The Nanny: Bab 121 - Bab 130

As soon as the interview ended, Brayden guided Penelope through the side exit, keeping a protective hand on her back. The hall was still filled with reporters, their eager voices rising in a chaotic blur as they tried to push past security. But Brayden’s men were prepared, forming a barrier to block anyone from getting close.Penelope walked silently beside him, her face pale from exhaustion. The weight of everything—the memories she had relieved on live television, the pain of speaking about her son’s death—seemed to press down on her shoulders. She let out a quiet breath as she got into the waiting car, but Brayden lingered outside.Just as he was about to step in, Ryder appeared at his side, his expression tense.“We need to talk,” Ryder said in a low voice.Brayden’s sharp gaze met his. He hesitated, glancing back at the car where Penelope sat, her head resting lightly against the seat. She was drained, but he could tell she was still awa

Brayden sat in his office, his fingers drumming impatiently against the mahogany desk. The events of the past few days weighed heavily on his mind, but he couldn’t afford to let emotions cloud his judgment. The interview had gone as planned, but something still felt off. He had expected backlash, expected resistance, but the way things were playing out wasn’t normal.A sharp knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in,” he called, his voice even.Inez stepped inside, his usual composed demeanor slightly tense. Brayden immediately straightened in his chair, already sensing that whatever his security head had to say wouldn’t be good news.Inez closed the door behind him and stepped closer to the desk. “We have a situation.”Brayden arched an eyebrow. “Go on.”Inez didn’t waste time. “I’ve been keeping a close watch on the reporter, just as you instructed. But something strange is happening.” He paused, as if trying to decide where to begin. “For the pa

Brayden sat in his study, reviewing several reports with a deep frown. The dim lighting cast a shadow over his sharp features as he skimmed through documents, his mind juggling multiple pressing matters. He didn’t look up when a knock sounded at the door.“Come in,” he said, his voice calm but authoritative.Inez entered, moving swiftly but without urgency. She was efficient, as always, her face composed as she strode toward his desk. A flash drive rested in the palm of her hand, which she placed carefully in front of him before taking a seat.“I retrieved some information from the reporter’s computer,” she stated. “I made sure to leave no trace behind. It would be impossible for him to detect any kind of breach of someone going through this stuff in his laptop.”Brayden picked up the flash drive, turning it between his fingers as he studied her. “And what did you find in his laptop?”Inez crossed her legs, her voice crisp and professional. “T

Brayden groaned as the sound of his phone vibrating against his nightstand woke him up. He reached out blindly, grabbing the device and squinting at the screen. Multiple notifications flooded his phone—calls, messages, and news alerts, all related to the same topic.He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face before opening one of the news articles. His jaw clenched the moment he read the headline.“Billionaire Brayden Giovanni Chooses Former Lover as Face of New Campaign—Business or Personal?”Brayden’s grip tightened around the phone.What the hell was this?He scrolled through the article, his irritation growing with each line. Reporters were speculating that he had deliberately chosen Penelope as the model for his subsidiary’s campaign, implying that it was a personal decision rather than a business one.His company was now swarming with reporters, all demanding answers.With a frustrated sigh, he immediately dialed the number of his company’s manager. Th

Penelope stormed out of the hotel, her heart pounding in her chest. Humiliation burned in her veins, mixing with the unbearable sting of rejection. She had dressed up for him today, hoping—foolishly—that he would at least look at her, that he would acknowledge her presence, even for a second.But no.Brayden had only cared about his reputation, his business, and his image in the public eye.Not once had he spared her a second glance. Not once had he noticed the way her hair was styled, or how carefully she had chosen her outfit. She had stood before him, nervous and hopeful, only to be ripped apart by his cruel words.Tears welled in her eyes, and she clenched her fists, willing herself not to cry in public. But as soon as she climbed into the backseat of the taxi, the emotions she had been holding back crashed over her like a tidal wave.She wept.She wept bitterly, her shoulders shaking, her hands gripping the fabric of her skirt.Why did