Baby Jana Pt8 -ex Webe Model Allison- -

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.

Marcus’s grin vanished. He looked down at his jacket pocket—a hidden recorder. "That’s… that’s not admissible."

Allison closed the door, leaned against it, and exhaled. Jana looked up at her, calm now, as if she understood that her mama had just won a war she didn’t even know was being fought.

Jana smiled. It was the kind of smile that didn’t need a filter. Baby Jana Pt8 -Ex Webe Model Allison-

"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."

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

"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." She was an ex-web model

Jana cooed.

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.

And for the first time in years, Allison believed she deserved it. Then came the burnout, the stalker who found

Marcus laughed. "You think you can protect her? I have millions of followers across my burner accounts. I can make Jana famous overnight. Or I can make your past famous again. Your choice."

The doorbell rang.

But today, she wasn’t thinking about the past. Today, she was thinking about the tiny, gurgling bundle in the bassinet beside her.

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.

A familiar face filled the screen. It was Detective Reyes, the woman who had helped her disappear three years ago. "Allison, we’ve been monitoring Marcus’s devices. He just incriminated himself on your doorstep recording. We have everything. Stay inside. Units are on the way."