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."

Julian cleared his schedule for the day and cancelled all important appointments. He didn't ask any question, but just listened to the little part Calla was willing to share about herself.

She carefully avoided mentioning the Kings' name, but told a story about the people who ruined her life and walked away without a trace of guilt.

"And what are you planning to do to these people?"

Calla though for sometime.

Of course, she wanted revenge. She wanted to make them pay for everything they did to her. She wanted to take her son back. But instead of saying all of that, she shook her head.

On seeing that, Julian furrowed his brows. "Nothing?"

"There's a lot on my mind. But there's nothing I can do right now."

"You can do anything you want with the right help, Calla,"

But still, she shook her head. "I'm not ready. I need to grow out of this. Out of being the helpless girl they once knew. I need to learn and grow. Only then will I be able to make a move."

Julian studied her for sometime and leaned back on his seat. "Then, I suggest you start learning."

****

THE NEXT MORNING•••

Calla stood in front of the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at her. Her long, brown hair had been dyed into ashy brown that was curled and styled to frame her face while the contact lenses she wore had turned her blue eye color into a stunning shade of gray.

Julian hadn't wasted time.

That same night after the interview, he had an entire walk-in closet built into one of the main rooms in the mansion. Now, it was lined with expensive work shoes, designer bags, and outfits for every occasion.

A few hours ago, a professional makeup artist had been brought to Calla and they had talked for hours while testing different looks that would change her appearance and make her look unrecognisable.

The woman had understood the assignment.

Smiling to herself, Calla adjusted the collar of her black blouse and stepped into a pair of nude stilettos. Her fitted pencil skirt hugged her waist perfectly like it had been specifically made for her, just like everything else.

The moment she walked down the stairs, Julian looked up and instantly froze. She looked nothing like the fragile and helpless girl he had brought into his home weeks ago. But behind that confident and composed appearance, Julian saw that she was nervous and still unsure of what the outside world held for her.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she greeted him quietly and he gave a small nod in return. Then Darryl, who was also dressed in a black suit like Julian's, stepped forward and handed her a tablet and a phone.

"Happy first day, Miss,"

Calla gave a soft smile in return and responded. "It's Calla. Thank you."

Darryl gave a respectful nod and Julian finally spoke. "Ready?"

Calla nodded, though her hands felt a little shaky. She had never truly been part of the real world. The orphanage had been her only home, and after that, she had lived in the Kings' household where she was treated as a slave.

But this was her chance. Her beginning.

"You'll do great." Julian added after noticing how hesitant she looked.

Calla took a deep breath and smiled. She really hoped he was right.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a tall, glass building with silver letters at the top: "VOSSCORP GLOBAL." Calla blinked and her jaw dropped in surprise. Was this his company?

When they finally entered the building, she looked around in awe. The lobby was massive, with high ceilings and white marble floors that gleamed under the lights. There was a grand staircase on one side and elevators that lined on the other.

Employees walked briskly in suits and heels, carrying tablets and files. Everyone looked busy and professional, but when they came across Julian, they paused and bowed slightly.

"I'll leave you with Darryl," Julian said briefly to Calla. "I have a few things to handle before the meeting."

Without waiting for her response, he walked away and Calla turned to Darryl, still trying to process the kind of world she had just stepped into.

Darryl smiled at her expression. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?"

"It's... It's a whole lot. I didn't know he was... this powerful."

Darryl chuckled lightly. "Being powerful is just his number one quality, you know. There's a lot more. But first, let's talk about the company he owns."

As they walked through the building, Darryl continued to explain.

"Vosscorp Global is just one of his companies. It's an investment group, but it also handles real estate, energy development, international trade, and even luxury assets."

Calla's eyes widened. "All that?"

"And more," Darryl said with a grin. "There's also his tech company which is based in the capital. The biggest in the whole world if you ask me."

He pointed to a large framed photo of Julian with a group of foreign investors. "He sits on the board of five other companies, but he owns three entirely. And every one of them is thriving."

Calla turned to look at him in disbelief. "Why would someone like him even need a personal assistant?"

"You'd be surprised. Mr. Voss doesn't trust people easily. If he's chosen you to be by his side, it means something."

They stepped into a wide hallway lined with awards and recognitions, glass trophies, gold plaques, and framed articles from international magazines. Calla stopped in front of one of them that showed a much younger Julian shaking hands with a foreign president.

"He was only twenty-two when he closed his first billion-dollar deal," Darryl said. "He doesn't talk about it much, but he built all this from the ground up."

Calla stared at the picture, her eyes wide with awe. He was her boss, the same man she had thought was just cold and distant...

"Mr Voss doesn't just build companies," Darryl added as they continued walking. "He rebuilds lives. He's helped orphanages, hospitals, and struggling communities without putting his name on anything."

Calla didn't say a word. There were no lies in what Darryl had just said because she was one of the lives he had saved and rebuilt. And one day, she was going to pay him back.

As Darryl led her down another wide hallway, something caught her attention and she suddenly paused. There was a television hanging high on the wall in the corner of the lounge area and although it was muted, the headline was bold and clear.

> "Business Tycoon Norman King Announces New Engagement, Confirming He's a Father of a Child Born via Surrogacy."

Calla's entire body froze and her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the headline. A child born via surrogacy... Her child. Each night, as she lay alone in bed, her thoughts always drifted to the little one. Was he okay? Was he properly taken care of? Was there someone to feed him when he cried?

She had tried to forget that night. But the memory of carrying the babies for nine good months, of feeling them grow inside her, and holding the dead twin in her arms had never left her. Not once. And now, to hear about the other twin like this... from a public statement on TV crushed her.

Not long after, Norman appeared on the screen with a woman beside him. She was Fiona Penrose, the woman he had married while she was pregnant and locked away.

Seeing them holding hands and smiling for the camera, Calla's hands slowly curled into fists by her sides. Her heart began pounding so loudly, she could hardly hear anything else.

Even with the ocean of distance between them, even when she was out of his life and trying to start anew, Norman still found a way to haunt her life.

"Miss Calla?" Darryl called out and immediately turned around.

He had been walking a few steps ahead but stopped when he noticed she wasn't beside him anymore. When he finally saw her and noticed the change in her face, he rushed back to her.

"Miss, are you okay?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes, which were now glassy, remained fixed on the screen as if watching a ghost parade across it. Darryl followed her line of sight and looked up at the TV.

"Do you know him? That's Norman King"

Calla quickly wiped the tear away from her cheek and turned to face him with a soft, composed smile. "Yes, I'm fine. The news just caught me off guard."

Darryl didn't push. But his eyes lingered on her for a second longer, before turning back to the TV. Clearly, he wasn't convinced.

"Come on, let's keep going," Calla said, straightening her shoulders. "I want to learn everything I can today."

Her mood had been ruined, but she couldn't let it affect her job. This was her second chance and she was going to work harder and rise higher.