Chapter 4 - The Price of Being Chosen Adrian read Lina’s resignation twice before his mind accepted what he was seeing. The letter was short, respectful, and painfully formal. She thanked him for the opportunity to care for Ethan. She wrote that she believed leaving the household was the best way to protect the boy from further public speculation. She added that she would stay long enough for Adrian to arrange a careful transition because disappearing suddenly would hurt Ethan.
There was no accusation.
That somehow made it worse.
Adrian found her in the breakfast room.
She stood beside the window while rain covered the estate gardens in silver.
“Take it back.”
Lina turned.
She saw the letter in his hand.
“No.”
Adrian had negotiated corporate acquisitions worth billions with less resistance than the single word she had just given him.
“This is because of the media.”
“This is because of everything.”
“Then let me fix everything.”
“You can’t.”
“I can stop the stories.”
“You can sue one outlet. Another will publish tomorrow.”
“I can issue a statement.”
“And then people will spend a week analyzing why you defended me.”
Adrian had no answer.
Lina looked exhausted.
“My photograph is everywhere. Strangers are calling me a gold digger because a six-year-old ran to me when he was scared.”
Her voice cracked, but she recovered quickly.
“My mother called me crying this morning. Someone found her apartment building.”
Anger moved through Adrian with frightening speed.
“I’ll increase security.”
“You still think every problem needs more resources.”
The words stopped him.
Lina looked toward the rain.
“I don’t want security guards following my mother because I work for you.”
“So your solution is leaving Ethan?”
“No.”
Pain entered her face.
“My solution is refusing to let him become responsible for protecting me.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“He won’t understand.”
“I know.”
“He’ll think you abandoned him.”
“I know.”
“Then how can you—”
“Because I am twenty years old, Adrian.”
It was the first time she had used his first name.
The room went still.
Lina continued quietly.
“I love Ethan. But somewhere along the way, everyone started treating that love like it means I don’t have a life outside this house.”
Adrian felt something uncomfortable twist in his chest.
She was right again.
“What life do you want?”
The question surprised her.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then stay until you know.”
Lina almost laughed.
“That sounds generous, but it’s still you deciding.”
Adrian looked down.
For a man accustomed to command, learning not to control people felt like learning a new language.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
He met her eyes.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“Because of Ethan?”
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Something unspoken passed between them.
Adrian corrected himself.
“Mostly because of Ethan.”
Lina looked away.
Neither was ready to examine the rest.
Footsteps appeared in the hallway.
Ethan rushed into the room.
He held a tablet.
His face was pale.
“Why does this say Lina tricked me?”
Adrian and Lina both froze.
Ethan turned the screen around.
Someone had shown him an article.
Adrian’s anger became immediate.
“Who gave you that?”
“It was on the kitchen table.”
Lina knelt.
“Ethan, don’t read those things.”
“But it says you made me say it.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
He said it with such certainty that Lina’s eyes filled.
Ethan turned to Adrian.
“Make them stop lying.”
Adrian crouched beside him.
“I’m trying.”
“You’re rich.”
Despite everything, Lina nearly laughed.
Adrian exhaled.
“Yes.”
“So buy the internet.”
That actually made Lina laugh.
Even Adrian smiled.
“I don’t think it works that way.”
Ethan frowned as though disappointed by the limitations of extreme wealth.
Then he noticed the letter in Adrian’s hand.
“What’s that?”
Neither adult answered quickly enough.
His eyes moved to Lina.
“You’re leaving.”
Lina stood.
“Ethan—”
“You said tomorrow!”
“I am here tomorrow.”
“You said you wouldn’t leave!”
“I said I would be here.”
“That’s the same thing!”
He threw the tablet onto the sofa.
The screen bounced harmlessly against a cushion.
Lina reached for him.
He backed away.
“You lied!”
“Ethan.”
Adrian moved between them before the boy could run.
“Listen to me.”
“No!”
“Lina isn’t leaving because she doesn’t love you.”
“Then tell her not to go!”
Adrian looked at Lina.
The old instinct rose instantly.
Command.
Solve.
Control.
Stay.
Then Amelia’s letter flashed through his mind.
Do not choose love for him.
He forced himself to stop.
“I can’t order her to stay.”
Ethan stared at him in disbelief.
“You order everyone!”
That sentence landed painfully close to the truth.
“Yes,” Adrian said. “Too often.”
Ethan began crying again.
Lina crossed the distance between them and hugged him.
This time he resisted for only a second before collapsing against her.
“I hate this party.”
“So do I,” Lina whispered.
“I hate those ladies.”
“No.”
She pulled back enough to look at him.
“You don’t hate them.”
“One of them said you tricked me.”
“One of them is hurt and angry. That doesn’t make everything she says true.”
Ethan wiped his face.
“Are you going away forever?”
Lina looked at Adrian, then back at the child.
“No.”
“Promise?”
“I promise I will not disappear from your life.”
That was different from promising to remain his nanny.
Adrian understood.
So did Lina.
Over the next several days, the story became even larger.
Some people defended Lina.
Others attacked her.
Clips of Ethan running across the ballroom accumulated tens of millions of views.
Commentators debated Adrian’s parenting as if Ethan were a fictional character instead of a real child.
Then Eleanor discovered something.
The original video had not been posted by a guest.
It came from inside the house.
Security timestamps proved the first upload occurred four minutes after Ethan ran to Lina, while the estate’s external network had already been restricted.
Someone with authorized access had distributed it.
Adrian called his security director.
They traced the upload.
The file had been sent from a device assigned to Nathan Cole’s public-relations team.
Adrian’s expression became stone.
Nathan arrived at the mansion that afternoon.
He came prepared with charts showing increased public engagement.
Adrian did not allow him to sit.
“You leaked the video.”
Nathan paused.
“Adrian—”
“You leaked footage of my son.”
“It was already going to get out.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Nathan exhaled.
“The footage was powerful.”
Adrian stared at him.
“Powerful.”
“People connected with it. Your approval numbers—”
“My what?”
Nathan realized too late how monstrous the sentence sounded.
Adrian slowly removed his glasses and placed them on his desk.
“My son was crying.”
“I understand.”
“No. You watched a six-year-old have one of the most vulnerable moments of his life and saw brand value.”
Nathan said nothing.
Adrian opened the office door.
“You’re fired.”
Nathan’s face changed.
“You need me right now.”
“I needed someone who remembered Ethan was a child.”
Nathan stepped closer.
“You think getting rid of me fixes this? Celeste is already speaking with attorneys. Several investors are furious. The board thinks this entire situation makes you look unstable.”
Adrian’s voice remained quiet.
“Leave.”
Nathan stopped at the door.
Then he turned.
“There’s something you should know about Lina.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Nathan removed his phone.
“I wasn’t the only person looking into her.”
He placed a photograph on the screen.
Lina stood outside a Manhattan café three weeks before the gala.
Across the table from her sat Celeste Beaumont.
Adrian stared at the image.
For the first time since the scandal began, he felt uncertainty cut through his anger.
“What is this?”
May you like
Nathan gave him a grim smile.
“That,” he said, “is the reason you should stop assuming your nanny is innocent.”
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