A Maid Dropped Her Tray When a Billionaire’s Son Ran to Her Crying 'Mommy'

The Secret in the Study

The security guards dragged me out into the freezing rain, throwing me onto the wet pavement like garbage. But the cold water only cleared my head. I wasn't the fragile, broken girl Marcus had abandoned five years ago. I was a mother, and my son was alive. I wiped the rain from my face, slipped back through the kitchen service entrance, and made my way up the back stairs to Marcus's private study.

I threw the heavy mahogany doors open. Marcus was standing by the fireplace, calmly pouring a glass of whiskey. He didn't even look surprised to see me. He simply sneered, taking a slow sip.

"You really have a death wish, don't you, Claire?" he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.

"How is he alive, Marcus?" I demanded, my voice shaking with a mixture of rage and terror. "Why did you tell me my baby died?"

Marcus laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "My grandfather’s multi-billion dollar estate had a very strict clause," he explained, swirling his glass. "The inheritance only passed to a male heir. If I had divorced you with a child, you would have taken half of my empire. So, I paid off the hospital staff to tell you he died, and I kept the boy. It was a simple business transaction."

I stared at him, my stomach turning at his monstrous cruelty. "You are a monster," I whispered. "I am going to the police. I will tell the entire world what you did!"

Marcus stepped closer, his eyes cold and menacing.

"Go ahead, Claire. Who will they believe? A penniless, unstable maid, or a billionaire philanthropist? I control the police, the courts, and your son. You have absolutely nothing."