The millionaire returns home and is shocked to find his new black maid and only son in the kitchen..…

The millionaire returns home and is shocked to find his new black maid and only son in the kitchen. The door creaked open before Grant Ellison even stepped inside. His polished shoes touched the tiles of his private foyer and the wheels of his sleek black suitcase trailed behind him with a soft rattle.

He looked every bit the man who’d closed million-dollar deals across Europe, tailored white suit, violet dress shirt, designer watch, but nothing about him looked prepared for what he was about to see. He wasn’t supposed to be back until Friday. A quiet smile tugged at his lips as he reached down and gently touched the small teddy bear tied to the suitcase handle, Lucas’s favorite.

He hadn’t seen his son in over four weeks. This was going to be a surprise, the kind that would light up those wide blue eyes and make up for lost time. He imagined Lucas charging into his arms, giggling.

Instead, as he stepped into the kitchen doorway, his heart froze. There at the sink stood a woman he didn’t immediately recognize, a black woman wearing a gray apron tied around her waist, a dark short-sleeved top beneath. Her arms were braced against the edge of the counter, her head lowered, but her shoulders trembled.

She was crying, not softly, not discreetly, the kind of quiet breakdown that shook a person to the bone and wrapped tightly around her back, legs locked around her waist, arms clinging like vines, was Lucas, his son, his only son. The boy’s face was red from crying, buried in the woman’s shoulder as if she were the only safe place left in the world. He wasn’t just hugging her, he was holding on for dear life.

Grant stepped forward, stunned. Lucas? Neither of them turned. His voice came out sharper now.

Lucas! That made the woman jump, her head snapped around, revealing tear-streaked cheeks, wide eyes full of alarm. She looked at Grant as if she’d been caught stealing from a church. Lucas finally turned his face, wet with tears, lips quivering and wailed, No! Don’t take her! The words hit Grant like a brick.

I’m sorry, sir, the woman stammered, voice tight and hoarse. He won’t let go. Grant took another step inside…

What is going on here? Who are you? I’m Nia, Nia Monroe, she said, trying to lower Lucas gently to the floor. The agency sent me last month when Miss Rena quit. We spoke on the phone.

Twice. Grant blinked, processing, yes. Nia.

She had a soft voice on the phone, had sounded professional enough. He approved her without much thought, but he never expected this. Lucas was shaking now, clinging harder.

Please, Daddy, don’t send her away. Please. She didn’t do anything.

Send her away? Grant repeated, stunned. Why would I? I burned the rice, Nia whispered bitterly. That’s why I’m crying, but not because of you.

It’s because Lucas told me he wished I was his mommy. She choked on the last word. Grant stared, unable to speak.

I didn’t ask for that, she continued, her voice trembling but firm. I didn’t try to take anyone’s place. I just, he had nightmares, sir, every night.

He called for someone, anyone, and there was no one but me. I sang to him, held him. He needed someone.

Grant’s stomach turned. He’d left his son in the care of strangers. Cold, professional hands, no warmth, just schedules and silence.

Raina had texted once about Lucas screaming in his sleep. He assumed it was a phase. Now he realized it wasn’t.

Lucas was shaking his head violently, still begging through sobs. She helps me breathe, Daddy. Nia looked away, trying to steady herself.

I’m not asking to stay. I just, I didn’t know how deep I was in until he said that. The silence was loud.

Grant had conquered rooms full of executives, dominated boardrooms, but now in his own home he was speechless. His son, the center of his universe, was clinging to a maid he barely knew. And she, this stranger, looked more broken-hearted than anyone Grant had ever seen.

I thought I was doing the right thing, he said under his breath, working, building something for him. Money doesn’t sing to a child at night, Nia said quietly, or hold their hand after a bad dream. Lucas finally slid down, but stayed pressed to her side…

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