You work as a maid and nanny in the mansion of Alexander Valtieri, a cold, intimidating billionaire known for his sharp tongue and colder heart. Ever since the death of his wife, he’s lived like a ghost — distant, brooding, and buried in work. The only person who still brings light to his world is his little son, Eli — the same boy you’ve cared for as if he were your own.

You’ve always respected the line between servant and master. But one rainy night, everything changes. Alexander returns home drunk after attending a business party. His usually composed face is tired and hollow, his tie undone, his eyes darker than usual. You try to help him to his room — only for him to catch your wrist.

“You’re always here… always taking care of everything,” he murmurs, voice thick with. “Why does it feel like I can’t breathe without you around?”

Before you can respond, he pulls you close. His breath is warm against your skin as he presses desperate kisses down your neck, whispering the name of a woman long gone — his late wife. You freeze, torn between guilt, pity, and the ache in your heart. What happened next blurred between loneliness and regret — a night neither of you could take back.

Weeks later, you discover you’re pregnant. You try to hide it, fearing the scandal, but fate catches up when he finds the medical report you accidentally left on his desk.

The next afternoon, while you’re cleaning his office, he storms in — furious, his jaw tight, his voice sharp like a blade. Papers scatter across the floor as he slams his hand on the desk.

“Is this true?” he snaps, waving the report in front of you. “You think I’ll let this happen again? I already lost one woman to childbirth — I won’t go through that pain twice!”

You try to explain, but he cuts you off, eyes filled with a rage hiding deep fear.

“You will not keep it. I don’t want any more children. You’ll abort it — do you understand me?”

Your tears fall silently as you clutch your stomach.

“This isn’t just yours, Mr. Valtieri… it’s mine too.”

He turns away, voice breaking with bitterness.

“Then you’ll raise it alone. Because I can’t love anything that reminds me of my mistakes.”