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.

SEVEN YEARS LATER•••

THE KINGS' PRIVATE ESTATE~

Norman sat at the head of the long mahogany table, wearing his neatly tailored black suit with coffee in hand, as the clinking of cutlery filled the air.

At his side, seven-year-old Sebastian sat, perched properly on a tall chair with his legs swinging back and forth in mismatched socks. His school uniform tie was crooked, and a bit of syrup stuck to the corner of his mouth as he focused on stacking pancakes with all seriousness.

Norman looked at him with a subtle smile and set down his cup. "You stacked those like a real architect,"

Sebastian grinned with his eyes lighting up. "Dad, can I be an engineer and a space explorer?"

Norman reached out to fix his son's tie, smoothing it down gently. "You can be anything you want, Base. Just aim higher than Jupiter."

Sebastian laughed, and Norman's eyes softened. The boy was his pride, calm, clever, and observant. He had Calla's blue eyes, though Norman hadn't allowed himself to think about that in a long time.

As Sebastian dug back into his breakfast, Fiona walked in. She was perfectly dressed in a silk blouse and pearls with no strand of hair out of place. Leaning down, she kissed Sebastian on the head.

"Good morning, love." She then turned to Norman. "Your 10 a.m. call was moved up. Bernard's office confirmed it."

Norman nodded, but didn't look at her. "Tell Sarah to shift the rest of the schedule. I'll call in from the car."

Taking the seat beside Sebastian, Fiona watched Norman with frustration. They only shared a home and a name. In public, they were the power couple and looked flawless. But in private? He spoke to her like a well-trained assistant.

"We should do a family photo soon," She said with a smile while dabbing the corner of Sebastian's lips with a napkin. "For the company's Mother's Day campaign."

Norman gave a short, polite glance. "If PR deems it necessary."

That was all. Not "of course, dear," or "let's coordinate schedules and see how it goes". All she got was the same cold agreement and a ticked checkbox.

Sebastian didn't seem to notice. He reached for Norman's hand suddenly and asked. "Can you drop me off today, Daddy?"

"I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world."

As Fiona watched the way Norman only came alive for the boy, her smile faltered. In seven years, she couldn't even remember the last time he genuinely smiled at her, aside from when they were posing for the cameras at an event.

Sebastian was soon done with his breakfast and was led away by the nanny who wanted to properly fix him up for school. Once they were gone, the room suddenly felt colder as silence settled between Norman and Fiona.

"Do you even realize how you treat me in front of him?" Fiona asked in a low voice as she set her coffee cup down a little too hard.

"I treat you with the same courtesy I offer any business associate."

"Business associate?" She repeated with a scoff. "We're married, Norman. He's seven and he watches everything. He'll start to notice that his father barely looks at his mother."

Norman slowly rose from his seat and finally looked at her. "If he sees a perfect home with well-fed meals, and two parents who never argue in front of him, he's better off than most children in this city,"

Fiona stood too and crossed her arms.

"And what about me? Am I just a prop in your perfect picture? Do you even see me anymore?"

Norman held her gaze for a long moment without saying a word. This wasn't the first time they were having this conversation. And he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Fiona stood there, waiting and hoping. But all she got in return was the same indifference he always wore when she was trying to have a conversation.

She let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "Of course. That's it, isn't it? Silence. Again."

"Because we've been over this. More than once."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of running footsteps caused her to swallow her words. Just as they expected, Sebastian appeared, grinning widely.

"Dad, I'm ready."

"Let's go, we're running late," Norman said, his eyes softening instantly. "We'll stop for waffles."

"Yay, waffles!"

"Come here, honey," Fiona said and crouched to kiss him goodbye. "Be a good boy at school, okay?"

"I will, Mom."

As Sebastian walked ahead of him, Norman walked past Fiona, pausing just once to speak without looking at her. "We have an important dinner to attend tonight. Be ready."

****

AT VOSSCORP GLOBAL•••

"We have an important dinner tonight," Julian said as he pulled out an unsealed envelope from his pocket and placed it on Calla's desk.

"Dinner? What's the occasion?"

Julian shrugged, tucking one hand into the pocket of his trousers. "Just dinner."

"Is there anything I should keep in mind? Like the dress code or..."

"It's all taken care of. Darryl will deliver them to you in the evening."

"Yes, boss," Calla replied with a smile and waited until Julian was out of the office before unfolding the letter. "Oh my god... The Argenté's Group!"

They were one of the most powerful and untouchable families in the country that came from old money and generational influence. Unless they needed something, they never reached out. And when they did, saying no was never an option.

Calla read through the letter, taking in the important details like the friendly gathering that would begin at 7:30 PM sharp. From their well-known status, the Argenté family didn't do casual dinners, even if they called it "friendly."

Rolling up her sleeves, she sat up straight and went back to work. The time was 2 PM already and she needed enough time to return home and prepare.

****

AT THE ARGENTÉS ESTATE~

When the car stopped, Julian got out first. He walked over to Calla's side and opened her door. "Shall we?"

Taking a deep breath, she reached for his hand and stepped out of the car. As she looked around, amazed by the beauty of the place, she didn't notice Julian was watching her until she turned back to look at him.

"You look stunning, Calla."

She blinked, caught off guard.

Compliments weren't something she received often, and definitely not from someone like Julian, who looked like he had walked out of a fashion magazine or maybe descended from Mount Olympus.

"Thank you..." She smiled shyly and looked away before she stared too long.

As they approached the pavement, a female attendant dressed in white approached them. "May I see your invitation card, please?"

Julian handed it to her and she examined it quickly, then nodded. "Right this way, Mr. Voss. The Argenté family is expecting you."

Calla and Julian followed her into the grand hall where they were immediately greeted by Two of the Argenté family members. They were now led through a long corridor lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a breathtaking view of a private garden.

Finally, they entered the main dining hall and met the rest of the family members and guests seated at the table. As soon as they saw Julian, the men rose to greet him and Calla before they all took their seats.

"We have just one more guest before we..." The heir of the Argenté's family said and paused just as the doors opened again. "They're here, welcome."

Calla looked up casually to see the final guest, but then she froze. Her heart skipped a beat and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. No, no, it couldn't be!

But it was.

Norman King and Fiona.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the man she hadn't seen in years. He looked a bit different with shorter hair, but it was still him. And there was Fiona, walking beside him with her arm looped through his.

Calla felt her stomach twist.

She hadn't expected to see them anytime soon, especially not here, at the Argenté family dinner. For years, she had gone out of her way to skip events he would be present at. When Julian asked why, she'd come up with an excuse or a sickness that would make him go without her.

But now, there he was... laughing softly at something Fiona said. Her shock immediately turned into anger, hurt, and resentment as her chest tightened with memories of the past.

Her hands trembled slightly under the table, but she clenched it into a fist and looked away from them. She couldn't fall apart here. Not in front of them and certainly, not in front of Julian.

"Mr and Mrs King," One of the men said and stood to shake hands with him. "It's nice to see you."

As another round of greetings filled the room, Calla glanced around and realized that only she and Julian hadn't offered their greetings. If there was one thing she knew about the two, it was that there was no sort of connection between them.

Julian and Norman had no past together, no business ties, nothing. They were complete opposites, like two sides of the same coin and Calla had always found it odd. Sometimes, she wondered why, but the distance between them had always been a relief to her. So, she never asked.

Once the greetings were over, everyone settled down while Norman and Fiona moved to take their seats. At that moment, Calla hoped-prayed that they might sit far away.

But no.

Norman pulled out the next seat for Fiona, but before he took his seat, he looked at Julian and gave a short nod. "Mr. Voss."

Julian didn't stand like the others. He simply looked up with an unreadable expression and after a brief pause, he offered a subtle nod in return.

"Norman."

And that was all.

Before Calla could think further on why Julian addressed him by his first name, Norman smiled at her and took the seat directly across from her.

In that moment, Calla felt her heartbeat seize.

She wasn't just staring at a man, she was staring at the man. The one who had torn her world apart. And now, fate was mocking her, forcing her to sit at the same table as him-the face of her deepest pain.

"Good evening," He said in a formal tone, just as he had greeted everyone else, but for a second, they didn't make sense to Calla.

She looked up at him and searched his face for any sign of recognition... anything that might hint he knew who she was. But there was nothing. His expression was blank and polite.

Relief washed over her.

He didn't know her. At least, not yet.

"Oh dear, were you so taken by my husband that you forgot your manners?" A voice cut in beside Norman and Calla slowly turned to the person it came from.

"He does have that effect on people," Fiona continued, smiling warmly. "But I assume you know how to respond to a simple 'good evening.'"