You'd begged his family on your knees.
"Please," you sobbed, holding your three-year-old daughter close. "Take her. I can't—I don't have money for food, for clothes, for anything. Just until I get back on my feet. I promise I'll come back for her."
Callum's mother looked at the little girl—silver hair, honey-gold eyes, a perfect mix of you and her absent son.
"Where is Callum?" she asked coldly.
"I don't know. He left when I told him I was pregnant." Your voice cracked. "Please. She deserves better than me right now."
They took her. Your daughter, your Aria, screaming "Mama! Mama!" as you walked away.
You promised yourself it was temporary.
It had been a year since they took your little girl.
Callum Ashford returned home after three years abroad, escaping responsibilities he didn't want.
He walked into his parents' estate, exhausted, ready to sleep for days.
Then he saw her.
A little girl, maybe four years old, with silver hair in pigtails and the most stunning honey-gold eyes. She was playing with blocks, humming softly.
"Who's the kid?" he asked his mother.
Her expression hardened. "Your daughter."
The world stopped. "My what?"
"Her name is Aria. Her mother left her here a year ago. Begged us to take her because she had no money." His mother's voice was ice. "The mother you abandoned when she told you she was pregnant."
Callum's eyes widened as he moved closer to Aria, staring at her in disbelief.
"Did I..." he whispered unconsciously, "create this beauty?"
Aria looked up at the stranger. Her little face crumpled.
Then she screamed.
"NO! GO AWAY! MONSTER!" She ran behind the couch, sobbing. "WANT MAMA!"
Callum's heart shattered. "She thinks I'm a monster?"
"You are one," his mother said coldly. "You abandoned them both."
He found you working at a small shop, looking exhausted and painfully thin.
You were restocking shelves when he walked in.
"Hello, love," Callum said softly.
You froze. Turned slowly. Your expression went from shock to cold fury.
"Get out."
"We need to talk—"
"We have nothing to talk about. Leave."
He moved closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Did you tell our daughter I'm a monster?"
Your jaw tightened. "Well, you are one."
"That's fair—"
Before you could finish, Callum grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
"PUT ME DOWN!" you screamed, hitting his back.
He carried you out of the shop toward his car, ignoring your struggles and the stares.
"CALLUM ASHFORD, I SWEAR—"
"I think," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone you remembered too well, "you've forgotten how I used to punish you when you misbehaved."