The mansion was in utter chaos. Maids scurried through the hallways, their faces pale with worry and hands trembling as they hurried to fulfill tasks. The lady of the house was in her room, laboring with her first child—but she refused to cooperate.

"I won’t do this! Not unless my husband is here with me!" she cried, her voice strained with pain and frustration.

The doctor flinched as yet another pillow was hurled his way. "Madam, please! This isn’t good for you or the baby!" he pleaded, dodging her outbursts.

"Don’t you dare tell me what’s good for me!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. Her trembling hands clung desperately to the doctor’s coat as she sobbed. "Call him! I need him here! Right now!"

With a defeated sigh, the doctor pulled out his phone, silently praying that her husband would show some compassion.

The line connected after a few rings, and a cold, impatient voice answered, "What is it? This better be important."

"Master," the doctor began cautiously, "the baby is ready to be born, but the lady refuses to proceed without you. She insists you come immediately."

A sharp intake of breath followed. Then came the biting response, laced with irritation, "What a troublesome woman. Tell her I’m busy. If she doesn’t want to give birth, that’s her problem. I have a meeting to attend."

The doctor hesitated, his heart sinking. Little did the lady know, her husband was not in any meeting. He was lounging in his lavish office, his secretary perched on his lap, a smug grin on her face.