She Arrived at the Billionaire’s Door With Nothing But a Baby and a Secret — Then an Unopened Letter Changed Everything He Believed About Her.

PART 2

By the end of the first week, Weston had learned that a five-month-old baby could occupy more territory than a multinational corporation. Nadia’s bottles colonized his refrigerator, muslin cloths appeared inside his briefcase, and a white-noise machine transformed Priya’s suite into a constant ocean.

Wren tried to make herself invisible. She woke before dawn, worked from the far end of the library, and kept a spreadsheet of every dollar Weston spent on her behalf.

“I need to know I’m not becoming dependent on you,” she told him.

“Dependence makes your choices smaller so you cannot leave,” Weston replied. “Help should make your choices larger.”

Weston had met her nine years earlier at Priya’s graduation. Wren had worn yellow shoes, argued with a security guard about sight lines, and accused Weston of confusing efficiency with dignity during a debate about childcare policy. He loved her while she was engaged to someone else, remained silent while her mother was dying, and said nothing again when she began dating Everett.

Now Wren was in his library each morning with Nadia asleep against her chest.

On the tenth night, Wren fell asleep over a legal brief. When Nadia fussed, Weston lifted her. The baby settled against his chest. Wren woke twenty minutes later and watched them with an expression so tender and frightened that he had to look away.

“You’re good with her,” she said.

“She has low standards.”

“Babies know when someone’s heart is safe.”

Before he could answer, his phone rang.

The temporary custody hearing had been moved forward. Everett Voss wanted Nadia in seventy-two hours.