The Billionaire's Maid Has His Secret Daughter

ven into the fabric of her life like the threadbare patches on Lily's favorite blanket. In her pocket, a crumpled piece of paper felt heavier than a brick. It was

er, Mrs. Alvarez. "Lily is asking for you.

e. The thought was a physical blow, a dull ac

s. It was her last chance. The agency had warned her. Valentine Martinez was a difficult client. He'd gone through three maids in six months. He was cold, exacting, and demanded absolute discretion. "Do not speak unless

er-rich. When the doors slid open, she was met not by a person, but by the view. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased a panoramic sweep of Manhattan, the city lights twinkling like a million fallen stars. The apa

the ne

st the glittering city. He was tall, his presence filling the cavernous room without effort. He was thirty-six, but his eyes held an ageless, weary emptiness. His dark hair w

ina Carter," she said, her

mple. You are here to clean. You will be invisible. You will not speak to me. You will not touch anything that is n

r," she

th the living area." He turned his back on her, a clear dis

of her presence as she went. The apartment was immaculate, but it felt hollow, haunted. There were no photos, no personal

, curled into the hallway. The sound of running water was a low hum. The master suite. The agency's warning echoed in her mind. But the polished marble floor in

be in and out in two mi

ed with charcoal-grey linens. The en-suite bathroom was a sprawling expanse of black marble an

own, and then stepped into the bathroom to tackle the vanity. Her eyes darted to the glass partition. She could see t

er. Wipe the c

to move it aside. Her fingers, slick with sweat, fumbled. The hea

the side and crashed onto the floor, shattering into a thousand glittering

he shower stop

low on his hips, water dripping from his hair and running in rivulets down his sculpted ch

The.

re feet crunching on the glass. He didn't even flinch. He ju

. Martinez, I was just

per, which was somehow more terrifying. "My bedroom is off-limits.

ident! I'll pa

verbal slap. "You're fired. Get your things

o reference. No money. The bill. Lily's face. The surgery. The w

ase, Mr. Martinez, I need this job. I have a d

ce. "Your personal problems are not my concern. You should hav

crumbling into dust. The desperation that had been a constant hum in her veins for years suddenly erupted, a hot, wild geyser

think. She

d sharp, cutting through the tense air. "And I'll tell your mo

l. The silence that followed was deafening, more terrifying than his shouting. He slowly turned

he asked, his voic

d. She pulled her phone from her pocket, her fingers trembling as she pulled up her lock scre

, her voice trembling but firm.

-dice lie. She'd never met this man before

thing far more complex and unreadable. A muscle ticked in his jaw. He remembered a time, seven years ago, a dark, blurry vortex of grief and alco

the photo again, then back at Regina. The accusation in her eyes. T

e was no conviction in his voice.

st card. Now, she had to wait and see if i

she wh