Mrs Lena, already fed up with the whole drama, held up an envelope. Calla could only watch with disbelief and grief as she opened the envelope and pulled out a cheque.

"Norman wrote you this. $500,000, half a million dollars..." Mrs Lena said, holding it up between her perfectly manicured fingers. "You don't deserve it."

Before Calla could even speak, she tore the cheque in half. Then in quarters. She then let the pieces fall to the floor, like discarded confetti after a funeral.

"You think just because you survived childbirth, we owe you something?" Mrs Lena asked and stepped closer "You killed one of our heirs. You cost this family more than money can cover."

Calla was speechless. Her hands clenched at her sides as she was suddenly filled with anger. How could they blame her for something that was beyond her control? And how could they be so heartless?

Delaney, standing beside her mother, folded her arms and added coldly, "We should've never trusted someone like you. A nameless orphan. I always knew you were going to ruin something."

"You were nothing before my son gave you a purpose. And now, you're less than nothing." She then turned to the two bodyguards, "Get rid of her. And make sure she's silent forever."

The men in black suits roughly gripped Calla by the arms, dragging her out of the hospital like she was nothing but trash. Her knees scraped the tiled floors as she cried out and pleaded with them to let go of her, but they didn't stop.

One of them yanked the hospital blanket tighter around her thin body to hide her in public, and then they shoved her into the backseat of a black car.

As the car sped off into the night, Calla sat hunched in the corner with her arms wrapped around herself. She was too weak to make a sound and trembled, partly from the cold and mostly from the pain. All she could do was press her forehead to the window as she watched the world blur past.

She could still feel the ghost of her child's weight in her arms, the stillness, lifelessness, and the cold skin. That was the only time she'd ever hold him.

She squeezed her eyes shut as tears poured down. Her heart felt hollow and her chest ached like something had been carved out of it with a jagged knife.

She'll never have another child...

She wasn't even allowed to say goodbye...

After what felt like an hour, the car slowed to a stop in a dark, narrow, and empty street. Before Calla could process where she was or what was happening, one of the men opened the door and yanked her out. Her bare feet hit the cold, wet floor and she stumbled, nearly falling.

"W...wait! Please!" She begged when she realized what they were about to do. "Don't leave me here. I... I can't walk... please..."

But the men only pushed her forward. One of them shoved her hard. "If you know what's best for you, you better disappear and never come back."

Calla tried to fight, but she was too weak. Her body throbbed in protest and she could feel the warmth of her blood leaking again down her legs. The healing stitches had torn too soon.

"Please, I have nowhere to go... I have no one..." But then, they shoved her again and she fell hard.

The impact knocked the breath out of her lungs as pain tore through her side. Her face hit the cold, wet ground and dirty water splashed against her lips. She coughed, gasped for air, and cried out, but the men were already gone. They had returned to the car and sped off without looking back.

Calla lay there, curled up under the dark sky and shivering. Her wet hospital gown clung to her like a second skin and her hair was plastered to her face.

But in her mind... there was only one thing she held on to. That moment, that one, beautiful moment when she held her baby. Even if just for a minute, even if he was already gone.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, my love..." She whispered, choking on the rain and her tears. "I would've given everything to keep you alive."

The rain soaked her thoroughly, turning her skin pale. She had lost a lot of blood and could feel herself slipping away, but then, bright and blinding headlights cut through the rain and shone directly on her.

Had the men returned to finish her off completely? Calla wondered and tried to move her body, but could barely lift her head or open her eyes.

The next thing she heard was footsteps and then, a deep voice. "Miss? Are you alright?"

Calla didn't reply. She couldn't even cry anymore.

The stranger knelt beside her and lifted her gently. He draped his coat over her shoulders and touched her face, trying to keep her awake.

"Stay with me, I've got you."

"Sir..." She heard another voice. "Do you need me to call the ambulance?"

"H...hospital," Calla gasped. "My baby... please, they... they have him..."

"She has a baby," The second voice said again. "What do we do, Sir?"

"We take her home"

That was the last thing Calla heard before everything blurred. She felt strong arms around her, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.

And then... darkness.

****

THE VOSS ESTATE~

Julian Voss hated long dinners.

They were a waste of time with meaningless chatter, fake smiles, and wine that cost more than the monthly rent of some entire neighborhoods. He preferred deals closed in numbers, not over champagne and business cards.

So, tonight, he left early.

It was raining. The kind of heavy rain that blurred everything and made the night feel colder than it actually was. Just as his car glided down the empty road, near the industrial district, he saw them. Two men in suits, stepping out of a black SUV and dragging a figure from the backseat.

A woman.

He immediately ordered his driver, Darryl to stop the car after the men had sped off. He didn't need to chase them. He already had their license plate-ABC-47T6 which he had memorized in seconds.

By the time they arrived at the estate, Calla was still unconscious, but Julian's private physician, Dr. Daines, was already waiting with two nurses. They had converted one of his guest wings into a medical suite.

As they worked, Julian leaned against the wall at the far end of the room, watching carefully. His dark hair was still wet from the rain and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up.

After a few tension-filled minutes, the doctor straightened. "She's in postpartum bleed. She just gave birth, but whoever handled it, did it wrong. Also, she's not properly stitched and has lost a lot of blood. Nearly three liters."

Julian remained silent with his arms crossed. He couldn't help, but wonder what she could've done to deserve this-being thrown out like trash and left to die.

"She's lucky you found her when you did. Another hour in the cold and she might not have made it."

One of the nurses turned to Julian. "We need fresh clothes. And she's going to need a transfusion immediately."

Without taking his eyes off Calla's pale form, Julian spoke to Darryl who was standing nearby. "Get her anything she needs. Blankets, clothes, vitamins, everything. No one gets into this room unless I say so."

"Yes, Sir"

Julian walked into his private study on the left wing, where screens lined the walls and computers ran silently. As the founder and owner of one of the world's leading technology conglomerates, he had developed a hacking and tracking system that garnered significant attention and recognition around the world.

"License plate, ABC-47T6." He said to the systems as though he was speaking to another person in the room. "Trace it. I want the car, the ownership history, the driver, and every connection it has. Use the black system."

The 'Black system' was his private network. A highly illegal, custom-designed web of surveillance tools, decryption software, and real-time tracking that could hack into almost anything: city traffic cams, medical records, offshore accounts... anything.

Within seconds, the screens lit up.

The plate belonged to a vehicle registered to a shell company, one that funneled money through a trail of fake addresses and non-existent owners.

Julian smirked.

He had dealt with this type of people in the past and knew all their tactics at the back of his hands. They thought they could cover their tracks? It was high time they learned no one could hide from Julian Voss.

"Find the last ten people who used that car. Match their faces and trace where they came from before tonight."

The system buzzed in response, piecing together security footage, phone logs, traffic feeds, and hotel entries, just as it had been told to do.

*****

Later that night, Darryl entered his office where he stayed up to finish some work. "We tracked the car. It was parked earlier today at a private hospital, Blackthorne Medical."

"And?"

"The owners of the shell company trace back to... King Holdings."

Julian leaned back on his seat and looked up at him. King Holdings was one of the largest old-money conglomerates in the country. Politically protected, ruthless in business, and unshakable. He had never cared about their business, but was familiar with the head of King's empire, Norman King.

That son of a bîtch.

"Pull their board, I want everything," Julian said, returning to his computer. "And find out all the people that were discharged from Blackthorne Medical today."

•••SIX DAYS LATER~

{AT THE GUEST WING}

The room was quiet.

Sunlight spilled in through the curtains and somewhere, far off, a piano played softly. The bed was large and comfortable, the pillows were soft, and the sheets smelled like flowers. But Calla didn't register any of it.

She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, not knowing where she was, but she knew she wasn't in that cage called a room anymore. Her throat was dry, her body ached in different places, and there was a strange emptiness inside her-one she couldn't explain yet.

Until it hit her.

Her babies.

Her eyes widened as she shot up from the bed, only to fall back with a painful cry. Her abdomen felt like it had been ripped open and her arms started to tremble.

"Where... where are they?" She whispered as panic rose in her chest. "My babies..."

A nurse rushed in, followed by another.

"Careful, Miss," One of them said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Calla screamed, slapping the hand away. "Where are my children? Let me see them! Where... where are they?!"

She tried to get up again, ignoring the burning pain in her lower body, but she could barely breathe. What was happening? Who were these people? And where was she? She wondered as her heart started racing.

"I want my babies!" She sobbed, crawling to the edge of the bed. "Give them back to me! Please..."

The nurses gently held her arms. "You need rest. You were very sick, but you're okay and safe now. You've been unconscious for six days..."

Calla froze.

"Six... six days? How? Where am I?"

She noticed how the nurses nervously glanced at the doorway and turned to see a tall, unfamiliar man standing at the far end of the room with both hands in his pockets. He was quiet with an unreadable expression and was dressed in a neatly pressed dark suit.

"Who are you?" Calla finally asked, but he didn't answer right away. Instead, he nodded to the doctor, who stepped forward.

"This is Mr. Julian Voss. He's the one who brought you here. You were found by the roadside, barefoot, bleeding, and in the rain."

Calla blinked, confused.

The roadside? The last thing she remembered was going into labor and... Suddenly, everything came crashing back like shattered glass. The labor, the pain, the operation, the coldness in Mrs Lena's voice, the slap from Delaney, the lifeless baby in her arms, the men, the rain, and then darkness.

She pressed her hand to her mouth as her body shook from the fresh wave of grief that tore through her.

"Where's my baby?" She asked again, but this time her voice was different. Hollow, pained.

No one answered.

She then turned to Julian. "Did you... Did you find a baby with me?"

He shook his head once and that was all it took for her to break down once again. The nurses tried to calm her, but nothing they did could stop the sobs that wracked through her or the pain inside her heart.

"I did everything," She whispered. "I carried them and almost died... for him."

Norman King.

She didn't have to say his name, she didn't want to because his name now burned like poison in her mouth. All the nights she had whispered his name to the babies inside her, all the dreams she had... of him waiting in the hallway, holding flowers, smiling when he saw his children...

Lies. All of it.

She wiped at her tears but they wouldn't stop coming. They had stolen everything. Her body, her child, her worth, everything. They had used her like she was nothing and then left her to die like garbage on the side of the road.

But she wasn't done.

Not even close.

She might be broken now, but she would rise again. And when she did... she would burn every last one of them to ash.

"You thought I was disposable," She whispered in her mind. "But I will haunt you and hunt you. I will make you choke on every lie, every bruise, and every scream you forced into my throat."

They would never see her coming.

And when they did, it would be too late.

"Even if it takes the last breath in my lungs and the last drop of blood in my body... I will make you all pay. I swear it."

****

Mrs Lena stepped out of the quiet nursery where the nurses and maids were tending to the baby. Just outside the door, she paused and looked up at the men who were waiting.

"Well...?" She asked impatiently and walked ahead of them while they followed closely behind her.

The men exchanged a glance, knowing exactly what she meant, including the answers she was expecting. "Still no positive result, Ma'am,"

Once again, her heart started racing.

It had been a full month since they had dumped Calla by the roadside. But, despite that, the girl still lingered in her thoughts like a thorn deep under her skin.

After ordering the men to get rid of her, Mrs Lena had demanded a thorough search to find out what happened next. She was angry at them, furious even, for not completing the job properly. They were supposed to watch and be sure Calla never returned. But instead, they had simply dumped her and left the scene, leaving loose ends.

The very next morning, they checked the area, asked around, and questioned the neighbors. But no one seemed to have seen or heard anything.

Taking a deep breath, Mrs Lena pressed her lips into a thin line. She tried to wrap her mind around it, how Calla could've disappeared so completely without a trace. The girl had no friends, no family, no money, and certainly no place to hide.

Where could she have vanished?

Did someone pick her up? Road services or even a good Samaritan? Mrs Lena had even made a few calls herself, but no one knew a thing. Now, the silence was unsettling.

This wasn't just about Calla disappearing.

It was the risk that she might come back stronger with the right amount of help. She knew too much and could turn their world upside down. That's why Mrs Lena's anger and frustration burned even hotter.

If Calla ever found the right allies, they could destroy everything she had worked for: the family name, Norman's reputation, the control she held over her son's life and legacy...

Mrs Lena suddenly stopped walking and let out a frustrated sigh. She then placed one hand on her forehead, and the other on her waist, trying to steady herself.

"Goddammit," She muttered under her breath. " "That stupid girl continues to drain me."

One of the men cleared his throat and said quietly, "I think she vanished for good."

"Or she probably ended up dead,"

For a moment, Mrs Lena was relieved at those words, but the feeling didn't last long. A knot of unease tightened in her stomach and she wondered. What if she wasn't dead?

"I'm not going to conclude the situation based on what you fools think," She said sharply and waved her hand dismissively. "Get out of my sight. And make sure you return with something useful."

The two men bowed their heads slightly and turned to leave without another word.

Now left alone, Mrs Lena stood for a moment, then, with a deep breath, she turned and headed toward the dining room. Just as she rounded the corner, her steps faltered.

There, standing in front of her, was Norman. She had not expected him to be back so soon and her heart thudded as she looked up at him.

"Mother!" He called out, snapping her from her shocked state.

"Oh... Norman..." She replied, forcing a light smile and smoothing her expression.

"Are you alright?"

She gave a soft chuckle and waved a dismissive hand. "I'm doing just fine."

"But you don't look like it."

She bristled at the look he gave her-the all-knowing look that always revealed he could see straight through her. "What can I say? I'm growing old. But at least, I now have a grandson."

At the mention of her grandson, his attention snapped toward the nearby hallway. He had spotted the men walking away as he entered and now, he was curious.

"Are they alright? Can I see them?"

"Of course," Mrs Lena answered and turned toward the nursery. "This way."

INSIDE THE NURSERY•••

"Here, come look," Mrs Lena said, guiding him to one crib where a baby lay sleeping peacefully. "He looks just like you"

Without a word, he moved closer and studied the child's features. Indeed, he looked just like him. Reaching out, he gently brushed the baby's cheek and smiled.

He then moved on to the next crib, but it was empty. "Where is the other one?"

Mrs Lena paused, steadying herself. Then, she took in a deep breath and clutched her chest. "I didn't want to tell you over the phone... but we lost one of the babies."

Norman immediately turned to face her as different emotions flickered across his face: shock, anger, sorrow. Knowing she had to explain, Mrs Lena began to speak with a trembling voice.

"It was all her fault. That stupid, godforsaken girl. After all we did for her, she couldn't even give us both babies back. She ruined everything, just as I knew she would." Tears welled up in her eyes and she gently dabbed at them with a tissue. "She's so ungrateful. We gave her shelter, a roof over her head, and everything she ever needed, everything. We treated her as family, despite her being an orphan and coming from nowhere. But she failed us."

Norman remained silent, his jaw twitching with restraint. But Mrs Lena wasn't done. She took another deep, dramatic breath and continued.

"She killed your son, she cost us a future heir." She paused and shook her head. "I always knew she was capable of nothing, Norman."

Norman didn't speak for a long moment. He just stood still with his fists clenched at his sides while watching the baby in the crib.

"Where is she?" He finally asked.

Mrs Lena looked up at once, surprised at his demand. She had assumed he would shift focus back to the baby and forget all about that wretched girl.

"She left. She vanished into thin air,"

Norman's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean she left?"

"Exactly what I said, Norman. She took the $500,000 cheque and disappeared on the same night. Lord knows I've been looking for her ever since."

Norman stared at his mother for a long time, then at the empty crib beside the one holding his newborn son. How dare she? How could she rob them of the child she was paid to deliver safely?

The more he tried to process everything, the angrier he became. He didn't have any idea about the pain Calla went through, the complications, how close she came to death, or what she suffered through alone. All that mattered in that moment was that she had failed him. She had lost his child, his blood.

"She had no fûcking right." He muttered more to himself than anyone else in the room. Even Mrs Lena knew better than to interrupt him when he was angry.

After some time, the door opened and Fiona walked in, smiling brightly. "There you are. We were wondering where you suddenly disappeared to."

Delaney was right behind her, laughing about something unimportant. But the moment they both saw the look on Norman's face, both women froze. His jaw was tight, his eyes were cold, and he was standing still, too still.

The smile on Fiona's face faded immediately as she stepped closer, "Honey? What's wrong? Is everything alright with our baby?"

But Norman didn't answer. He didn't even look at her. Instead, he turned back to the baby that was still sleeping peacefully in the crib, and spoke as if the baby could understand him.

"She's dead to us. Do you hear me?"

Mrs Lena remained quiet, satisfied that her son was now on her side. Delaney on the other hand, smiled covertly while looking between everyone. Just like her mother, she was happy that her brother believed the lies and they wouldn't have to worry about Calla anymore.

"Don't worry," Fiona said and reached for Norman's arm. "We'll protect him, you and I. No one else matters."

"Yes, sister-in-law," Delaney replied. "You're just the perfect mother of the baby."

****

THE VOSS ESTATE~

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, gently waking Calla from her light sleep. It had been a month since she opened her eyes in the unfamiliar room and every day since then had slowly pulled her further away from the nightmare that almost took her life.

Today was different.

Today, her body didn't ache as much. Her mind wasn't as heavy and for the first time since she had been dumped like trash, a strange sense of calm washed over her.

Her heart still hurt-aching for the baby she never got to hold, the betrayal she couldn't forget, and the little one she had lost. But she wanted to move, to breathe, and eat something that didn't come through a straw.

Pushing herself off the bed, she stretched and walked into the shower. When she was done, she dressed up and left the room. She had been given a tour around the mansion some days ago and although she wasn't familiar with the entire place yet, she knew her way around some important places like the kitchen and dining.

The house was beautiful.

She had never lived in a place like this before. A place where she wasn't watched, ordered around, or looked down on. Everything felt foreign... not just because of the size or luxury, but because of the freedom.

She walked slowly, taking her time to admire the art pieces along the walls, the exquisite furniture, the glass staircase, the open views of the city from the windows... everything.

But as she kept moving, memories began to return. She remembered the first time she was brought to live in the King's mansion, believing it was a blessing.

Not long after, she was given a small room in the servants' quarters, and told to be "useful." From morning till night, she ran errands, cleaned, did the laundry as well as everything that was asked of her.

But she didn't complain, instead, she worked hard and smiled through it all. Because in her heart, if not for Norman, she would've been on the street.

But Norman was rarely home.

He traveled often for business, and when he was gone, his mother and sister ruled the house. They never called her by name and never spoke without looking down their noses. She was "The orphan", "The help", "The girl Norman brought in". Every mistake, even imagined ones, was her fault.

She wasn't allowed to walk through the main hallways or sit on the living room furniture. Also, she had to eat in the kitchen, not the dining room.

But when Norman returned, even just for a day, the house changed. Mrs Lena would smile at her, Delaney would suddenly be kind and they would tell her to rest, to stop working, and wear nicer clothes.

They would call her "dear" or "sweet girl" like they had always cared. But Calla wasn't stupid. She knew the moment Norman left again, they'd return to who they really were.

But now... she wasn't locked in.

She could walk wherever she wanted as there was no one shouting at her for forgetting her place or spitting out the word "orphan" like it was dirt.

Julian had said nothing about rules. Though the mansion was cold and silent, it didn't feel like a prison. At least... not yet. But she couldn't help but wonder how long this freedom would last. It felt too good to be real.

Finally, she reached the kitchen and was welcomed by the smell of warm breakfast spread. Standing near the stove was an older woman stirring a pot. Her name was Greta, the estate's cook and housekeeper.

"Ah," She turned, smiling. "You're awake! Come, sit, sit. You must be starving."

Calla smiled shyly and obeyed, settling into the high-backed wooden chair by the center island.

"You must be the one I've been cooking for," Greta said warmly, scooping scrambled eggs into a plate, followed by toast, grilled tomatoes, and a few fresh strawberries. "The doctor said you would want something light to start, but the boss said to make sure you're well fed."

"The boss?" Calla tilted her head, taking the plate. "Mr. Voss?"

"The very one. Said no bland hospital meals for the young lady under his roof."

Calla looked at the woman, surprised. The man had barely spoken to her. He was somewhat cold and distant, but still, he made sure she was eating well? He didn't even know her name or where she had come from.

"That's... that's so kind of him"

Greta chuckled softly. "Mr. Voss is a good man when he wants to be, though not the affectionate type. You're lucky you landed on his soft side."

Calla's hand paused over her fork.

Lucky.

She suddenly thought about her past and how cruel everyone had been to her. How she mistook every polite word from Norman, every glance, and every small kindness from him as love.

"He chose me to carry his child," She had once believed. "That must mean something."

But it didn't mean anything. Not to him, not to his mother, and definitely not to Delaney. They had locked her in like a prisoner, humiliated her, and used her. And when she nearly died giving birth, all they gave her in return was a dead baby, a shredded cheque, and cruel words. She was less than nothing to them.

So, yes. Maybe this was luck.

Or fate.

****

The room was quiet except for the clinking of cutlery against plates. Julian had nearly finished his breakfast while occasionally glancing toward Calla, as if checking on her without intruding.

Meanwhile, Calla was nervous.

She kept telling herself that it was just breakfast with a kind stranger, but that was no relief. After everything she had been through, kindness wasn't something she knew well. People didn't give without wanting something in return and the last thing she needed was falling into the hands of another Norman King.

Taking a deep breath, she tightened her fingers around her fork. The questions and conversation she'd planned in her mind over and over now seemed harder to say out loud.

"Do you need anything else?" Julian asked and stood up, buttoning the cuff of his shirt.

Calla swallowed, then cleared her throat nervously. The sound seemed louder than she expected, but there was no turning back now.

"Mr. Voss..." He paused and turned toward her, giving her his full attention. "I just... I want to thank you. For everything. For taking me in, for the care, the medical attention... and for making sure I was well fed. I'm grateful."

Julian's expression remained blank, but he said nothing. He was running late for an important appointment, but he waited, letting her speak at her own pace.

"I imagined how this conversation would go... in my head, it was easy. I'd say everything perfectly," Calla continued and chuckled nervously, "But now, it feels... harder than I thought."

She looked down at her stomach and tried to steady her racing thoughts. There were a lot of things running through her mind and she knew she needed to heal first before she could talk about them. But healing... that seemed near impossible at the moment.

"I don't expect you to know what I've been through and I won't burden you with my past"

Julian nodded slowly, as if understanding without needing explanation. He didn't ask questions and didn't push either. Instead, he offered her a tiny smile.

"It's nothing. No woman should ever be treated like that. That's unforgivable."

Tears welled up in Calla's eyes, but she wiped them off before they could roll down her cheeks. She had sworn never to shed tears again and she was going to keep to that.

"Thank you, truly. For everything." She said again and stood up slowly. "You've done more than enough and I think... I'm ready to leave. I don't know where I'll go, but I can't stay here. I cannot be indebted to anyone else when I have nothing to pay back in return."

Julian studied her.

Then, with a calm voice, he replied, "I don't need anything from you. You can stay here for as long as you want"

"No...no, you don't even know me. You don't know my name, my age, or where I came from."

That was a lie.

Yes, he didn't know all about her, he didn't need to. But he knew the basic things like her name, Calla Ward. He had known that the very night he brought her into his mansion.

"It doesn't matter," Justin replied calmly. "All that matters is that you're safe and in good hands."

Calla gulped, unable to believe he was real. The man was too good to be true. The type she should probably run away from because he somehow represented the same thing that ruined her life.

But where would she go? How will she survive? At that moment, she knew she had to make a decision. It was either in or out.

"If I'm going to stay here, I don't want to remain a liability to you. I need my own money, I need my own house... but first, I need a job."

If she wanted revenge against the people who took everything from her and nearly ruined her life, she needed to start working towards it. She needed to establish herself somewhere to avoid being walked on all over again.

"I know I should've done this earlier," Calla said and took a deep breath. "But now, I'm ready to tell you everything you need to know about me."

Julian looked at her for some time. He saw the determination in her face and knew she was ready to start over again.

"You're hired," he said. "You're my new personal assistant. And your interview starts now."

Calla's eyes widened. That was fast. "Wait... aren't interviews supposed to come first?"

"I trust my instincts."

Calla smiled softly and motioned for him to have a seat. "Well then... It's going to be a long day, boss. You might want to grab a seat."