Baby Jana Pt8: -ex Webe Model Allison-

Allison’s mind raced. Marcus didn’t know the truth. He thought she was just the nanny. He had no idea that Jana was her daughter—adopted after her own life fell apart, the one pure thing she had built from the ashes of her old identity.

Jana, sensing the tension, began to whimper.

"Good morning, Baby Jana," Allison whispered, scooping up the infant. Jana’s big brown eyes blinked slowly, her tiny fist clutching Allison’s silk robe. "You’re the only follower I care about now."

She took a slow breath, then opened the door a crack. "No deal, Marcus. And you need to leave before I call the cops." Baby Jana Pt8 -Ex Webe Model Allison-

Her grip on Jana tightened. "What?"

"No more cameras, little one," Allison whispered, kissing Jana’s forehead. "No more followers. No more likes. Just us."

She was an ex-web model. The "ex" was important. For five years, she had built an empire on a pseudonym, selling fantasy to strangers while feeling emptier by the day. Then came the burnout, the stalker who found her real address, and finally, the quiet exit. She deleted everything. Or so she thought. Allison’s mind raced

"Baby Jana. The viral sensation. The little girl who laughs at thunderstorms and refuses to eat pureed peas. Every parenting blog, every influencer network—they want her. And I know you’re her nanny. So let’s make a deal. You get Jana to sign with my agency, and I forget about those old photos I still have."

"I know you’re in there, Allison," he called through the wood. "Relax. I’m not here for you. I’m here for the baby."

Here is the story for . The morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting a warm glow over the marble floors. Allison stood in front of the mirror, her phone buzzing with notifications she no longer cared about. Once upon a time, those pings meant money—booking fees, brand deals, a flood of thirsty DMs. Now, they were just noise. He had no idea that Jana was her

And then something unexpected happened. Allison’s phone—her new phone, the one with no ties to her old life—lit up. It was a video call from an unknown number. She answered on instinct.

Jana cooed.

And for the first time in years, Allison believed she deserved it.

The doorbell rang.

She didn’t open the door.