The grand wedding hall grew quiet, the tension thick as everyone’s gaze fixed on the front. There stood Vanessa Clark, the wealthy bride, wearing a smug, victorious smile.
“For our next number,” she declared, “my maid Emma will be performing a special song for us.”
Emma Wilson, the young pregnant maid tucked away in a corner, felt her heart sink. Her complexion paled as she was pushed forward toward the stage. She hadn’t expected to be showcased like a trophy—a tool in Vanessa’s cruel public display of dominance.
At 28, Emma never imagined she’d find herself as a live-in maid. Her dreams had been filled with the bright lights of Nashville’s music scene—not scrubbing floors in a vast mansion in Los Angeles. Life had thrown her a harsh twist: a fleeting romance with musician Jake Miller had left her pregnant and alone. Needing stability, she accepted a job in a world that felt cold and unfamiliar.
That very morning, she’d passed Vanessa in the hallway.
“Just because you work here doesn’t mean I have to look at you,” Vanessa sneered, flicking her hair dismissively. Emma instinctively rested her hand on her belly and whispered, “Yes, Miss Clark,” lowering her gaze.
Even the mansion seemed suffocating. As she pushed her cleaning cart through the gleaming corridors, the looming wedding only added to her unease. Still, she pressed on—every sweep, every mop, every hour was for the baby growing inside her.
A small kindness came from Antonio Díaz, the head chef, who quietly handed her a plate of breakfast.
“You’re eating for two,” he said with a warm smile. Emma’s heart tightened at the gesture—a reminder that not everyone saw her as just another servant.
Later, while straightening up Richard Bennett’s study, Emma found herself softly humming a tune she had composed during her hardest moments. Her voice carried both pain and hope. Richard, entering without her noticing, paused in his tracks.