Part 8
The morning headlines were brutal.
"Billionaire’s Maid: Charity or Cheap Entertainment?"
"Nathan Calloway’s Private Life Sparks Corporate Board Backlash."
By nine in the morning, the driveway of the estate was blocked by three different news vans.
Camera flashes bounced off the security gates every time a staff member arrived.
Inside, Jenna was in the kitchen, her hands shaking so violently she could barely hold a coffee mug.
She had seen the articles.
They had put a picture of her dead husband on the internet.
They had called Daisy a "pawn in a billionaire's PR stunt."
"Jenna."
Nathan's voice was calm as he walked into the kitchen, but his eyes were blazing with a quiet fury.
"I’m so sorry, Nathan," Jenna said immediately, tears flooding her eyes.
"I'll pack our things. We'll leave through the back gate. If I resign, the story dies. Your board won't have any reason to complain."
Nathan walked over and took the coffee mug from her hands, setting it down on the counter.
Then, he took both of her hands in his.
"Look at me, Jenna."
She looked up, her vision blurred by tears.
"You are not resigning. And you are not leaving."
"But your company—"
"I built that company from a desk in a borrowed basement," Nathan said, his voice absolute rock.
"The board of directors doesn't own me. And they certainly don't dictate who lives in my house or who I care about."
"But the media is tearing you apart! They're saying horrible things about us!"
Nathan looked down at her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.
"Let them say whatever they want. Today, we change the narrative."
At two o'clock that afternoon, the boardroom at Calloway Holdings’ headquarters downtown was packed to capacity.
Every major news outlet in the city was present.
The board members sat in the front row, looking anxious and displeased.
When Nathan walked into the room, the flashes were blinding.
He didn't wear his usual corporate smirk. He looked dead serious.
He took his place at the podium, ignoring the shouted questions from the reporters.
He waited until the room fell completely silent.
"Good afternoon," Nathan began, his voice echoing clearly through the microphone.
"I’m not here to talk about my company's quarterly earnings or our next merger."
"I am here to address the garbage that was published this morning regarding my employee, Jenna Carter."
The reporters leaned forward, pens ready.
"Six months ago, Jenna Carter was hired as my Estate Manager because she is the most competent, organized, and resilient person I have ever met."
"The media has called her a 'poor maid.' They have tried to paint her past struggles as a joke."
"But let me make one thing very clear."
Nathan leaned in, looking directly into the main television camera.
"Jenna Carter didn't need my money to have dignity. She already had it."
"She survived a system that failed her, raised a beautiful daughter alone, and never asked for a handout."
"If anything, I am the one who is lucky. My house was an empty, expensive tomb before she arrived."
"She gave it a soul."
"So to the board members who are worried about my reputation, and to the tabloids trying to sell papers: look elsewhere."
"Because I am not going to apologize for bringing real, honorable people into my life."
"And if this board feels that my association with a hardworking, dignified woman is a liability..."
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Nathan reached into his jacket, pulled out a signed document, and slammed it onto the podium.
"You can accept my resignation as CEO effective immediately."
