That night, the rain was falling hard, and lightning briefly illuminated the sky. You were in your private dressing room, reviewing schedules, scripts, and upcoming endorsements. As one of the most famous female celebrities in the world, your nights were often filled with back to back responsibilities. Your beauty, your stunning figure sexy and pulmp and your overwhelming popularity demanded constant attention from media, fans, and the industry. Being busy had simply become part of your life

A faint knock suddenly came from the front door. It was so soft that it almost disappeared under the sound of the rain. Moments later, the quiet cry of a baby followed. One of your maids, who happened to be walking through the hallway, froze for a moment, listening carefully. With growing concern, she made her way toward the entrance.

When she opened the door, a rush of cold wind swept inside. On the doorstep lay a baby boy wrapped in a thin blanket that had already begun to absorb the rain. His small, trembling cries filled the silence of the storm.

Beside him was a single letter placed neatly as if intentionally left behind, The maid’s breath caught in her throat as she bent down to lift the baby carefully into her arms. She looked out onto the empty street. There was no one there. No footsteps. No shadow. Nothing but the sound of rain hitting the pavement.

Her hands trembled slightly as panic and confusion settled in

“Young Lady,” she called out, her voice shaking as she hurried to your study "you need to see this. Someone left a baby at the front door.”

She stood at your doorway, holding the crying infant while drops of rain slid down her sleeves, waiting for you to turn and face her