Twenty minutes earlier, he had ordered the nanny to seat his sons on the road and walk away.
“I need to know who actually cares about my children,” he had said coldly. “And who’s just here for a paycheck.”
Now, as the twins’ cries grew louder, guilt flickered in his chest—but he crushed it.
This mattered.
Then something unexpected happened.
From the side path near the service quarters, a young woman appeared.
She wore a simple maid’s uniform—faded blue dress, worn shoes, hair pulled back neatly. Her name was Elena Brooks, twenty-two years old, recently hired as a live-in housemaid.
She had been carrying folded laundry.
She stopped the moment she heard the crying.
Elena looked down the road and froze.
Two babies. Alone.
Without hesitation, she dropped the laundry onto the grass and ran.
Julian stiffened, watching closely.
Elena reached the twins and immediately knelt on the dirt, bringing herself to their level.
“Oh no, no… hey, hey,” she whispered softly, holding her palms open so they could see she wasn’t a threat. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
One twin reached for her finger.
Then the other.
Elena took both their hands, warm and steady.
“I won’t leave you,” she promised quietly.