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Three years ago, she had quietly entered his world as his housekeeper. She’d tidied his rooms, folded his designer shirts, and dusted the crystal trophies he never cared to look at twice. She never made a fuss. Never asked for more than her pay. Grace was calm, almost invisible.
After losing a billion-dollar deal and drowning his rage in scotch, Ethan had stumbled into the hallway. Grace had been there, offering him water, her hand on his shoulder. He remembered her eyes: gentle and kind. He remembered the warmth.
And the mistake.
Two months later, she had knocked on his office door.
Her voice had barely risen above a whisper when she said, “I’m pregnant.”
He hadn’t let her finish.
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