The rain pounded against the glass roof of Julian Maddox’s sprawling mansion outside Seattle. Inside, the billionaire stood by the lit fireplace, holding a cup of black coffee, his gaze lost in the dancing flames. Wealth had filled his life with luxury… but not peace.
Julian frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone. His staff had the day off, and visitors were rare. He put down his cup and walked to the front door, opening it.
There stood a woman, soaking wet, hugging a little girl no more than two years old. Her clothes were thin and worn, her eyes empty and tired. The little girl clung to her sweater, watching silently.
“Forgive me for bothering you, sir,” the woman said, her voice trembling. “I haven’t eaten in two days. If you’ll let me clean your house, I just need a plate of food… for me and my daughter.”
Julian froze.
Not out of pity, but out of surprise.
“Emily?” he whispered.
She looked up, disbelief etched on her face. “Julian?”
Time seemed to fold in on itself.
Seven years ago, she had disappeared—without warning, without goodbye, simply gone.
He took a step back, his heart racing. The last image he had of Emily Hart was of her in a red summer dress, barefoot in her garden, laughing as if nothing could harm her.
And now she was here, in threadbare, fragile, and worn clothes.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice strained.
“I didn’t come for a reunion,” she said, her voice cracking. “I just need food. Then I’ll go.”
His gaze lowered to the little girl. Blonde curls, bright blue eyes—the same eyes her mother had.
“Is she… mine?” he asked softly.
Emily looked away, silent.
Julian stepped aside. “Come in.”
Inside, warmth enveloped them. Emily sat uncomfortably on the marble floor, soaking up rainwater, while Julian instructed the chef to prepare food.
“Do you still need staff?” she murmured.
“Of course,” he replied, an unmistakable edge in his voice. “I have everything… except answers.”
The girl leaned into a bowl of strawberries and whispered shyly, “Tank you.”
Julian smiled slightly. “What’s her name?”
“Lila,” Emily whispered.
The name hit him hard.
Lila: the name they’d once dreamed of for a daughter, back when their world was whole.
Julian sank into a chair. “Start talking. Why did you leave?”
Emily hesitated, then sat down opposite him, her arms protectively around Lila.
“I found out I was pregnant the same week your company went public,” he said. “You were working nonstop. I didn’t want to be a burden.”
“That was my decision,” he replied sharply.
