Beneath The Billionaire's Mask: Chasing The Nanny

Penelope Lorenzo's POV

"Please help me!" My voice cracked as I dropped to my knees, clutching at the hem of a nurse's scrubs. "Please, I'm begging you! My father... he's dying! Do something!"

The nurse took a hesitant step back, her face full of pity but devoid of action to render any sort of help. "Miss, I-I'm so sorry. There's nothing-"

"There's Nothing?" I screamed at the top of my voice, my voice echoing down the cold hospital hallway. I just didn't care!

"He's having a stroke! A heart attack! Do you understand? My father, He's in pain! You have to save him! He is all I've got, please!" I yelled more on seeing no one was ready to help me out.

"We're doing all we can," another nurse murmured, but her words felt hollow. Her gaze darted away from mine, as if she couldn't bear to look at me.

Was I looking so terrible that everyone kept avoiding my gaze? Why wouldn't they just help me save my father? That's all I'm pleading for!

"No, you're not doing anything!" I yelled and burst into more tears. The tears streamed down my face like raindrops.

"Please! Someone help him! You've got to help him!" I turned to the room full of medical staff, their white coats and scrubs blurring together. "Why are you all just standing there? Just do something! Anything at all, is fine!"

"Miss, please calm down," a young male doctor said, stepping forward cautiously. "Crying this much isn't going to help matters. Rather, you're hurting yourself! We understand your distress, but the specialists are in surgery, and-"

"I don't fucking care about your surgery!" I cut him off, slamming my fists on the cold tile floor. "My father is in a life and death situation! He is dying right now! Please, I'll do anything! Just save him!"

My cries turned into deep, heaving sobs as I pressed my forehead to the ground. My body shook violently, the weight of helplessness crushing me. "He is all I have," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Please, don't let him die..."

The hallway grew silent, save for my broken sobs. For a moment, I thought no one would come forward.

Then, a deep, calm voice broke through the tension. "Hey, Miss."

I looked up to see an elderly doctor stepping out of one of the rooms. His silver hair glinted under the fluorescent lights, and his eyes bore into mine. He adjusted the glasses on his nose as he crouched down to my level.

"I'm Dr. Harry," he said softly. "I'll do everything in my power to save your father."

A gasp escaped my lips. "Y-you will?" I clutched his hand tightly, desperation laced in my grip.

He nodded. "Yes. But there's one condition."

"Anything," I blurted out, my voice hoarse. "I'll do anything!"

"You'll need to pay the deposit first," he said, his tone gentle but stern.

The word 'deposit' hit me like a punch to the stomach. My chest tightened as I stared at him, wide-eyed. "How much is the deposit?"

"Five thousand dollars," the nurse beside him interjected, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Five thousand... what!" I repeated, my voice trailing off. My fingers slackened off his hand as my mind raced. "I don't-I don't have that kind of money!"

Dr. Harry placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, but it's hospital policy. Without the deposit, I can't proceed. Go find the money. I'll do my best to stabilize him while you're gone."

My lips trembled as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Thank you," I choked out, bowing my head. "Thank you so much! I promise, I'll get it."

I staggered to my feet, wiping my tears with trembling hands.

My legs felt like they were made of lead as I ran down the hospital corridor. The sound of my labored breaths echoed around me.

"Where do I find five thousand dollars?" I whispered to myself, my voice shaking. "Who do I even contact?"

As I rounded a corner, the strap of my right slipper snapped. "No, no, no!" I cried out, stumbling forward. My knee hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Blood pooled beneath me, but I didn't care. "Get up," I muttered, forcing myself to stand. "Keep moving."

"Miss, are you okay?" a nurse called out, rushing toward me.

"I'm fine!" I snapped, dragging my injured leg as I pushed forward.

"Miss, wait! You're bleeding!"

"I don't care!" I screamed over my shoulder, my voice cracking.

Pain shot through my leg with every step, but I refused to stop.

As I ran, I bumped into a hospital bed parked at a side in the hallway. The sharp metal edge jabbed into my ribs, knocking the air out of me.

"Arghh!" I cried out, clutching my side. Warm blood trickled down my arm from where the bed had scraped my skin.

"Miss, stop! You're hurt!"

"Leave me alone!" I yelled, tears blinding my vision.

The hospital exit loomed ahead. I stumbled toward it, my heart hammering in my chest.

The cool evening air hit my face as I burst outside. The world around me was chaotic-cars honking, people shouting-but it all felt distant. My only focus was getting across the road to find help.

"Hey, stop right there!" someone shouted behind me, but I didn't look back.

Why should I spare them a glance? Were they going to help me sort out my father's hospital bill?

I stepped off the curb, my swollen eyes fixed on the opposite side of the street.

The screech of tires filled my ears, but it was already too late.

The car slammed into me with a force that sent my body flying through the air.

Time seemed to freeze as I twisted and tumbled, my arms flailing helplessly. Pain exploded in every part of my body when I hit the ground.

The sound of car doors slamming and people shouting faded into the background. My vision blurred, the edges darkening.

And then, everything went black.

Brayden Giovanni's POV

The hum of the engine was steady as we glided down the dimly lit streets of Los Angeles.

The city looked deceptively peaceful, a thin layer of fog clinging to the edges of the road like a ghostly veil.

I sat in the backseat of my sleek black car, my gloved hands resting loosely on my knees.

My mask-a staple of my identity-covered the lower half of my face. It wasn't for protection; it was a symbol. A warning. Brayden Giovanni wasn't a man to be crossed.

"Luca," I said, my voice low but commanding.

"Yes, boss?" Luca, my driver and personal assistant, kept his eyes on the road ahead. He was an older man, maybe in his late fifties, with graying hair and sharp instincts. He'd been with me for over a decade, loyal and efficient.

"How do you think the deal went?"

"The deal?" he echoed, glancing briefly at me in the rearview mirror. "Smoothly, as expected. Those Colombians didn't dare argue once they saw we came prepared."

I let out a small grunt of approval. "Good. They needed to understand who they're dealing with. No games. No excuses."

Luca nodded, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "They know better now, Mr. Giovanni."

"Don," I corrected him, my tone sharp.

"Of course," he said quickly, swallowing hard. "Apologies, Don Giovanni."

I leaned back against the leather seat, staring out at the passing city lights. "What about the product?" I asked. "Did they deliver what was promised?"

"Yes, Don Giovanni. Pure, high quality. Exactly what we agreed upon. It'll be ready for distribution as soon as we unload it at the docks tomorrow night."

"And security?" I further asked, my gaze still looking out the window.

Since it was already evening, everywhere was busy with different cars and pedestrians. Probably some were headed home and others to evening shifts at their work places.

"We doubled the guards at the warehouse," Luca replied confidently. "No one's getting close without permission."

"Hmm," I murmured, my gaze shifting back to him. "And the payment?"

Luca hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "It's all accounted for. Clean. We transferred it through the offshore accounts you set up."

I nodded, satisfied for now. Business was business, and everything had to run like clockwork. Mistakes weren't tolerated in my world.

But as silence settled between us, something nagged at me. A detail I'd been meaning to address.

"Luca," I said suddenly, my voice cutting through the quiet.

"Yes, Don Giovanni?"

"What about the file?"

The atmosphere in the car shifted instantly. I saw his hands tighten on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

"Th-the file?" he stammered, his voice noticeably unsteady.

"Yes. The file from the meeting this afternoon. Where is it?"

Luca's breathing hitched, and I could feel the tension radiating off him. "I-I left it on your desk, Don Giovanni. I didn't... I didn't think you needed it tonight."

"You didn't think?" My tone was calm, almost too calm.

"Don Giovanni, I apologize," Luca said quickly, his voice shaking. "It won't happen again. I swear."

"It better not," I said coldly. "That file contained sensitive information. What if someone walked into my office and saw it? Carelessness is a weakness, Luca, and I don't tolerate weaknesses."

"I understand, Don Giovanni," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Do you?" I leaned forward slightly, my presence heavy in the confined space.

"Yes, Don Giovanni. I'll fix it as soon as we return. I'll give you my word."

"Good." I leaned back, the tension still thick in the air. Luca knew me well enough to understand I wasn't just his boss; I was his lifeline. One wrong move, and I wouldn't hesitate to cut that line.

Luca cleared his throat nervously, sneaking a glance at me in the mirror again. "Thank you for your patience, Don Giovanni."

"Focus on the road, Luca," I said, dismissing him with a wave of my hand.

He nodded quickly and turned his attention back to driving. The streetlights cast long shadows across the road as we approached an intersection.

But just as we were about to turn the corner, something caught my eye.

A figure darted out into the road, running recklessly across the street.

"Watch out!" I shouted, my voice slicing through the air like a whip.

Luca jerked his head around to look at me, his expression panicked. "What-"

"LOOK OUT!" I roared, but it was too late.

The car slammed into her with a sickening crunch, the sound of metal meeting flesh echoing in my ears.

The woman's body flew through the air, her arms flailing helplessly before she landed hard on the pavement with a thud.

For a moment, everything went still.

"Dio mio..." Luca whispered, his hands frozen on the steering wheel.

My eyes were locked on the crumpled figure lying motionless in front of the car. My chest tightened as I felt a strange pang of something I couldn't name.

"Get out," I ordered, my voice low and deadly.

"Don Giovanni, I-"

"GET OUT!" I roared, my patience snapping.

Luca scrambled to obey, fumbling with the door handle before stepping out of the car. I followed, the cold night air hitting me as I approached the body.

The woman lay sprawled on the ground, her hair matted with blood. Her face was pale, her eyes closed. She looked so fragile, so small.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring down at her. Something about her struck a chord deep within me, but I couldn't explain why.

"Don Giovanni," Luca's voice trembled behind me. "What do we do?"

I didn't answer. My mind was racing, my thoughts a tangled mess.

The woman's chest rose and fell faintly, a sign of life. But for how long?

"Call someone," I said finally, my voice cold and sharp. "Now."

"Yes, Don Giovanni," Luca stammered, pulling out his phone with shaky hands.

I stayed where I was, my gaze fixed on the woman.

Brayden Giovanni's POV

"Be careful with her," I barked as the nurses rushed forward, carrying the unconscious woman into the hospital. My tone left no room for argument.

Blood was smeared across her face and arms, her clothing torn in places, revealing deep gashes and bruises. Her head lolled to the side as they laid her on the stretcher. I didn't miss the faint rise and fall of her chest. She was alive, barely.

"Yes, sir," one of the nurses stammered, visibly shaken by my presence.

"Move faster," I growled, following close behind as they wheeled her toward the emergency ward.

The hospital's fluorescent lights flickered above us, casting a harsh glow on the chaos around me. The moment we entered, the staff seemed to freeze, their eyes darting toward me before scurrying to action. My reputation preceded me, even here.

"Get the best doctors available," I ordered sharply. "I want her stabilized immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Giovanni," a nurse said, her voice trembling as she rushed to comply.

Luca trailed behind me, his face pale, still shaken by the accident.

"Luca," I said without turning around.

"Yes, Don Giovanni?"

"Find out everything about her," I commanded. "Her name, her family, why she was running into the street. I want answers."

"Understood, Don Giovanni," he replied, bowing his head slightly before disappearing into the background.

The doctors swarmed around her like bees, working quickly to stop the bleeding. I watched silently from the corner of the room, my arms crossed, my mind racing.

Minutes felt like hours. Then, finally, one of the doctors approached me, pulling off his bloodstained gloves.

"She's stable," he said, his tone respectful. "We've moved her to a private room for observation."

I nodded curtly. "Good. Lead me to her."

The doctor gestured for me to follow, and I walked briskly through the sterile hallways. The air smelled of antiseptic, sharp and clinical.

When we reached the room, the woman was lying on the hospital bed, her face pale but peaceful. Bandages covered her arms and forehead, and an IV drip was attached to her hand.

I stood at the foot of the bed, studying her. Who was she? And why did I feel this strange pull toward her?

The door creaked open behind me, and Luca entered, holding a small notepad.

"Don Giovanni," he began cautiously. "I've gathered some information about her."

"Speak," I said, not taking my eyes off the woman.

"She's Penelope Lorenzo," he said, flipping through his notes. "Twenty-four years old. Recently returned to Los Angeles. From what I could find, she's been struggling financially. No steady job."

"And her family?" I asked, my tone sharp.

"Her father is currently admitted in this same hospital," Luca continued. "It seems he suffered a stroke and a heart attack earlier today."

Before I could respond, a faint groan came from the bed. My head snapped toward her as her eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her gaze.

Penelope Lorenzo's POV

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the harsh white light above me. My head throbbed, and my body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

"Where... where am I?" I murmured, my voice hoarse.

"You're in the hospital," a deep voice said, startling me.

I turned my head and froze. A tall man dressed in a dark suit stood at the foot of the bed. His face was partially hidden by a mask, but his piercing gray eyes bore into mine.

"Who... who are you?" I stammered, my heart racing.

"Brayden Giovanni," he said simply.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice rising slightly. Panic clawed at my chest.

"You were hit by my car," he replied, his tone even.

My eyes widened as fragments of memory began to surface. Running. Screaming. The blinding headlights.

"And this hospital..." I whispered, my hands clutching the sheets. "What hospital is this?"

"St. Mary's," he said.

The name hit me like a punch to the gut. St. Mary's. The same hospital where-

"My father!" I cried, sitting up abruptly. Pain shot through my leg, but I didn't care. "Where is my father?"

The man-Brayden-took a step forward. "You need to lie down. You're injured."

"No!" I shouted, throwing the blanket off me. "I need to see him! I need to save him!"

I swung my legs off the bed, wincing as my injured leg protested. The moment my feet hit the ground, I stumbled, limping toward the door.

"Miss Lorenzo, stop," Brayden called after me, his voice firm.

"I can't!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "I need to find him!"

"Where are you going?" he asked, his footsteps echoing behind me.

"My father," I muttered under my breath, repeating it like a mantra. "My father... I have to save him. I have to save him..."

Brayden followed me closely, his towering presence looming behind me. "Luca," he said quietly, addressing the older man at his side.

"Yes, Don Giovanni?"

"Find out how much her father's medical bills are," he ordered. "Make sure it's taken care of."

"Yes, sir."

I barely heard their conversation. My mind was consumed by one thought: I have to find my father.

I reached the reception desk, my hands slamming onto the counter. "My father," I said, my voice frantic. "Where is he? Mr. Lorenzo. He was admitted earlier today. Please, I need to see him!"

The nurse behind the desk hesitated, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Her face paled as she read the screen.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "We lost him a few minutes ago."

Her words didn't make sense at first. I stared at her, uncomprehending.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, that's not true. You're wrong. Check again!"

"Miss Lorenzo," she said gently, her eyes filled with pity. "I'm so sorry."

The world tilted on its axis. My knees buckled, and darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision.

"Penelope!" Brayden's voice was the last thing I heard before I felt strong arms catch me, preventing me from hitting the ground.