On her first day, while cleaning Daniel’s private office, Lily noticed something strange tucked deep inside the lining of an armchair: a small sapphire-blue pendant and an old, yellowed envelope.
Her heart raced. She didn’t dare leave them there, but she was terrified of being accused of stealing. She kept them hidden, sensing—without fully understanding—that they mattered.
That night, the penthouse was unusually empty. As instructed, Lily carried the triplets into the living room before dinner. When Claire saw them, her expression hardened instantly.
“This is absurd,” Claire snapped. “Why are those children here?”
“Mr. Whitmore asked me to keep them close tonight,” Lily replied calmly.
Claire rolled her eyes, poured herself more wine, and let the mask slip. “You’re just a maid. You don’t get opinions. And those things—” she gestured at the babies, “—ruin everything.”
The babies began to cry.
Claire covered her ears, her voice rising with irritation. “I’m marrying him, not this noise. Once we’re married, they’ll be sent off with nannies anyway.”
Under the table, Daniel’s hands trembled.
