You need a roof over your head and I need a wife and a mother for my kids. Come with me,” the millionaire told the poor girl. But her answer changed everything.

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Emily Parker was dragging four clumsy suitcases down the street as the heel on her left shoe crumbled with every step. “Congratulations, Emily,” she muttered, tugging the suitcase that kept getting stuck in the cracks of the sidewalk. “Fired, evicted, and now almost barefoot. What a success story!” The wind flipped her umbrella inside out, splashing more water on her face. She slammed the useless thing shut in frustration. “Perfect. Join the team, you traitor umbrella.”

Cars drove by, splashing waves of dirty water. Emily dodged as best she could, nervously laughing. “All I did was stand up for Sophie,” she said to herself, out of breath. “The guy yelled at her. I yelled back and bam! You’re fired, Emily.” She mocked her manager’s tone. “Oh, sure, because being kind is a crime now.”

She took a deep breath and adjusted the bags. “And to top it off, Mr. Harris thought just three little months of late rent was too much. How dramatic,” she mumbled. “He deserves an award. Heartless landlord of the year.” Her hair stuck to her face, her soaked coat felt heavy, and her hands trembled from the cold. After a few blocks, she spotted the nearest bus shelter. She rushed over and sat on the bench, taking a deep breath.

Emily looked at her trembling reflection in the puddle in front of her—red eyes, smudged mascara, and whatever was left of her dignity, fighting to stay alive. “There you go, girl,” she muttered, giving herself a slow clap. “The living image of success.” She tried to laugh, but it came out with a sob. And before she knew it, the tears started falling right along with the rain. On a cold New York night, she finally let her pride go.

“Seriously, God,” she whispered through sobs. “If this is a test, can I get a break? I’ve already failed with flying colors.” She buried her face in her hands, crying softly, exhausted and alone.

Then a bright light appeared. A black car—big, expensive, and completely out of place—slowed down in front of her. Emily barely lifted her head. Great. Now comes the kidnapping. The perfect ending to this night. The engine shut off. The tinted window slowly rolled down, revealing a face she recognized. The man from the coffee shop. The quiet customer in a suit with the serious eyes. Richard Lancaster. The millionaire who always looked like he was carved from ice—now standing in the middle of a storm.

“Emily Parker,” he asked, his voice deep, calm, and steady.

She blinked, confused. “What?” She wiped her face. “Oh, perfect. The millionaire shows up right at the peak of my humiliation. Want a picture for Forbes?”

Richard studied her. His expression didn’t show pity, but focus—a kind of quiet curiosity. “What are you doing out here like this?”

Emily let out a short, bitter laugh. “What does it look like? A casual night stroll, full despair collection.”

He looked at the bags. “You were evicted.”

“Bingo. Three months behind on rent. And to top it off, I got fired today. I should play the lottery. I’m on a roll.”

Richard was quiet for a few moments, watching the rainfall. Then he opened the door and stepped out, holding an umbrella. He walked toward her, impeccable, while Emily watched him, suspicious.

“You need a roof over your head,” he said plainly.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Wow, sharp observation. Sherlock would be proud.”

He ignored the sarcasm. “And I need a wife and a mother for my kids,” he added as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Emily blinked, sure she’d misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Come with me,” Richard said. “You can live in my house.”

Emily’s eyes widened. Then she burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding.” She pointed at him. “Or you’ve completely lost it. Seriously, I know a great psych ward. I can recommend an excellent therapist.”

He kept a straight face. “I’m serious.”

“Sure, sure, because nothing says mental health like offering marriage and children to a wet, broke woman who smells like burnt coffee.”

Richard took a breath. “I need to appear like a family man to close an international deal. My investors expect stability, a clean image.”

She blinked, trying to process. “So, you want me to marry you for marketing purposes?”

“Exactly,” he said, unwavering. “And in the meantime, you take care of my kids.”

“Oh, great,” Emily threw up her hands. “It’s official. The millionaire has lost his mind.”

He held her gaze. “I need someone to care for my children. No nanny lasts more than two weeks,” he continued, unfazed. “They always quit. And I don’t have time.”

Emily stared at him, eyes wide, stunned. “And you looked at me and thought, ‘This woman—soaking wet, broke, and emotionally unstable—is perfect,’” she replied sarcastically.

Richard just gave a small smile. “Exactly.”

Emily blinked, confused. The rain was pouring down. She looked around—the empty street, the soaked bus stop, the heavy suitcases, the cold wind. He started walking away, heading back to the car.

“Think about it, Miss Parker.”

Emily watched him turn his back and panic filled her chest. “Wait,” she shouted, standing up. “I accept.” She said it without thinking. Richard turned around.

“I—I accept,” Emily said, her voice trembling. “But with one condition: no touching, no kissing, and I take care of the kids my way. No interference.”

Richard looked at her for a moment and nodded. “Deal.”

Emily sighed. “This is definitely going to end badly.”

He opened the car door for her. “Or it might be the best mistake of your life.”

Emily took a deep breath, grabbed her suitcases, and got in the car. As the car pulled away in the rain, she looked out the window, still in disbelief over what was happening. And that’s how—soaked, lost, and about to step into something she didn’t understand—Emily Parker took the first step toward what would completely change her life.

The car slid through the wet streets of New York. As Emily glanced at Richard from the corner of her eye, he was driving upright, eyes fixed on the road, saying nothing. The silence was so heavy that Emily felt like jumping out of the moving car. She cleared her throat. Nothing. He kept driving as if she were invisible.

Emily rolled her eyes and decided to break the ice. “So,” she began with a nervous smile, “do you always offer marriage contracts to wet strangers, or am I just special?”

Richard didn’t even blink. “You were in the right place at the right time.”

“Wow, how romantic,” she said, pretending to be moved. “I’ll save that line for our fake anniversary.”

He stayed serious, but Emily could have sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

“Seriously though, do you really think this is going to work?” she asked, pushing back her wet hair. “I can barely cook rice without burning it. And you want me to take care of kids?”

“The kids don’t need a chef,” Richard replied firmly. “They need someone who stays.”

Emily went quiet for a moment, taking that in. Then she let out a short laugh. “Oh, I get it. You want someone desperate enough not to quit. Congratulations. You found the perfect candidate. I literally have nowhere else to go.”

Richard finally glanced at her. “That’s exactly why you’re ideal.”

She blinked, unsure if that was a compliment or an insult. “You know, Richard, you have a real talent for making people feel both chosen and offended at the same time.”

He didn’t respond. He just kept his eyes on the road.

Emily crossed her arms and kept talking to herself. “Okay, then let’s sum it up. I’m going to live in your house, pretend to be your wife, take care of kids I’ve never met, and in return, I get a roof and a paycheck. Basically, I just accepted a job based on emotional qualifications.”

Richard nodded. “That’s a fair summary.”

She shook her head, laughing nervously. “My mom always said I made bad decisions. Now I have proof.”

The car turned onto a wide avenue and the city lights started to fade. Emily frowned. “Hey, where are we going? Because if it’s somewhere isolated, just letting you know—I’ve seen a lot of suspense movies and I know how this ends.”

Richard sighed. “We’re going to my house.”

“Oh, of course. The mysterious millionaire’s house who hires fake wives. Totally normal.”

He looked at her again, now slightly annoyed. “If you want to get out, I’ll stop the car.”

Emily raised her hands in surrender. “Relax, boss. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. You’re more serious than a funeral.”

Richard rolled his eyes and pressed the gas a bit more. After a few minutes, the car entered a massive automatic gate. Emily leaned forward, trying to get a better view. And then she saw it.

The mansion appeared like a modern-day castle lit up in the night. It was huge, white, with massive windows and a garden that looked like a park. Emily’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“Is this a house or a five-star hotel?” she asked, eyes glued to the building.

“It’s my house,” Richard replied, parking in front of the entrance.

Emily got out of the car, still looking around, completely stunned. Her feet sank slightly into the soft welcome rug.

“You live here alone—”

“With my kids,” he corrected, grabbing her suitcases from the trunk.

Emily followed Richard to the main door. He unlocked it and opened it, revealing a grand entrance hall with an incredibly high ceiling, a marble staircase, and crystal chandeliers. She stepped in slowly, almost afraid to touch anything.

“Okay, now I’m sure you’re some kind of secret prince.”

Richard dropped the bags on the floor and took off his jacket. “Just a businessman.”

“Sure. And I’m just a former waitress who now lives in a palace. Totally normal.”

The silence in the house was almost deafening. Emily looked around, impressed by how clean and organized everything was. “This place is eerily quiet,” she said, walking to the center of the hall. “Where are the kids?”

She barely finished the sentence when two voices echoed from upstairs. “Get him, Max.” “No, you get him!”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. The little angels.”

Richard closed his eyes, already anticipating the chaos.

Suddenly, two small figures appeared at the top of the stairs. Two boys with dark hair and bright eyes running like wild.

“Alex! Throw it!” the younger one shouted, laughing.

The older one grabbed a pillow and threw it hard down the stairs. It flew straight toward Emily. She jumped to the side, nearly tripping over her own bags.

“Whoa, that was close,” she said, laughing nervously.

More pillows started flying. Emily dodged one, then another, but the third one hit her right in the face.

“Oh,” she yelped, grabbing the pillow. “Okay, who did that?”

The boys froze halfway down the stairs, wide-eyed. Then a brown dog came charging after them, barking like crazy.

Richard let out a long sigh and rubbed his forehead. “Alex, Max, come down. Now.”

The two of them walked down slowly like they’d been caught red-handed. The dog kept barking and jumping around them.

Emily held the pillow and looked at the boys with an amused smile. “So, you’re the famous Hurricanes.”

The older one, Alex, crossed his arms. “Who are you?”

“Good question,” Emily said, turning to Richard. “Who am I again?”

Richard took a breath. “This is Emily. She’s going to be living here with us.”

Max’s eyes got wide. “Forever?”

“For now,” Richard replied.

Alex frowned. “Are you the new nanny?”

Emily made a face. “Nanny? Me? No. No. I’m more like the new temporary house guest who’s going to try not to let you blow up the place.”

Max laughed. “I like her.”

Alex still looked suspicious.

Richard stepped in. “That’s enough for today. Go to your room now.”

The boys obeyed, climbing the stairs while grumbling. The dog followed, still barking.

Emily stood up and fixed her hair. “So, are they always like this?”

Richard nodded. “Always.”

She laughed. “Okay, this is going to be interesting.”

Richard picked up one of her bags. “Let me show you your room.”

Emily followed him up the stairs, taking in every detail of the house—paintings on the walls, elegant furniture, everything spotless. He stopped in front of a door on the second floor and opened it. The room was huge. It had a king-size bed, a walk-in closet the size of her old apartment, and a window with a view of a lit-up garden. Emily stepped in slowly, barely believing it.

“This is my room?”

“Yes,” Richard said, placing her bag on the floor.

She spun in place, taking it all in. “I’m sleeping here alone in this giant bed?”

“Exactly.”

Emily sat on the edge of the bed to test it. It felt like sitting on a cloud. “Okay, maybe this deal isn’t so bad after all.”

Richard stood in the doorway. “We’ll talk about the rules tomorrow. Get some rest.”

He left, closing the door behind him. Emily stayed in the luxurious room, still trying to process everything. She looked around—the high ceiling, the fancy furniture, the dreamlike bed. Then she lay back, sinking into the mattress.

“Okay, Emily,” she murmured to herself. “You agreed to move in with a serious millionaire, take care of two wild kids, and pretend to be his wife. This will either be your downfall or your lucky break.”

She closed her eyes, exhausted, but with a smile on her face, and for the first time in weeks, she fell asleep without a single worry.

The next morning, Emily woke up to the sound of birds singing outside. She opened her eyes slowly, confused by the tall white ceiling above her. It took a few seconds to remember where she was.

“Oh, right,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “The millionaire’s mansion. Almost forgot my life turned into a movie script.”

She got out of bed and looked around. The room looked even more beautiful with daylight pouring in through the window. She stretched and walked to the closet, looking for something to wear. After getting dressed, she headed downstairs toward the kitchen, following the smell of fresh coffee.

As she stepped into the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. Alex, the older one, was standing on a stool in front of the stove, holding a frying pan. And whatever was inside that pan definitely wasn’t pancake batter.

“Good morning,” Emily said, trying to sound calm. “What are you doing?”

Alex turned, smiling proudly. “Making pancakes.”

Emily walked over and looked inside the bowl next to him. There was water, flour, and laundry detergent.

“Alex, honey,” she said, taking the bowl out of his hands. “This isn’t sugar. It’s soap.”

He frowned. “But it says powder.”

“Yes, but laundry powder, not the kind you eat,” Emily explained, laughing. “If you made pancakes with this, we’d leave the table blowing bubbles.”

Alex thought for a second and burst out laughing. “That would be funny.”

“It would, but your stomach wouldn’t think so,” Emily replied, turning off the stove.

Just then, a loud meow came from the living room. Emily turned her head. “What was that?” Another meow—louder. She ran into the living room and found Max, the younger one, trying to tie the family cat to a jump rope. The cat, a blue-eyed Siamese, was struggling while Max pulled the rope tightly.

“Max!” Emily shouted, running over to him. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching him to jump rope,” Max answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Emily held back a laugh and untied the cat, who ran off in a panic. “Max, cats don’t jump rope and they hate being tied up.”

Max crossed his arms. “But I wanted to play with him.”

“Then play by tossing a ball or using that feather toy,” Emily suggested, putting the rope away. “But no tying anything up.”

“Okay.” Max pouted but nodded.

Emily went back to the kitchen and found Alex still on the stool, now trying to open a jelly jar with a knife.

“No!” Emily yelled, quickly taking the knife from his hand. “Rule number one: no knives without supervision.”

Alex huffed. “But I’m hungry.”

“Then sit down and I’ll make real pancakes,” Emily said, pointing to the table. “No soap this time, I promise.”

The two boys sat at the table, watching Emily closely as she started gathering the right ingredients.

“You know how to cook?” Alex asked, suspicious.

“Sort of,” Emily admitted, cracking eggs into a bowl. “But at least I know the difference between sugar and soap.”

Max laughed out loud.

Emily began mixing the ingredients, humming quietly. The boys exchanged glances.

“The last nanny didn’t sing,” Max said.

“She just yelled,” Alex added.

Emily stopped mixing and looked at them. “Really? She yelled at you?”

“All the time,” said Alex, swinging his legs. “She always said we were terrible.”

Emily made a face. “That’s too bad. You’re not terrible. You’re just a little too creative.”

Max smiled. “I like you.”

“Thanks, sweetie. I like you, too,” Emily replied, pouring the batter into the skillet. “But let’s agree on one thing: no soap in the food and no tying up animals.”

“Okay.”

Both boys nodded.

While the pancakes were cooking, Emily heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. She turned and saw Richard walking into the kitchen, dressed perfectly as always, in a dark suit and tie. He paused at the scene—the boys sitting at the table, the batter, Emily at the stove, and the kitchen relatively tidy.

“Good morning,” he said, sounding cautious.

“Good morning, boss,” Emily replied, flipping a pancake. “Coffee? Or would you prefer a soap smoothie?”

Richard frowned. “Soap?”

Alex raised his hand. “That was me, but Emily saved me.”

Richard looked at Emily, who just shrugged. “Yeah, your son almost invented the first bubble pancake. Brilliant, but dangerous.”

Richard sighed and poured himself some coffee. He sat at the head of the table and watched as Emily placed pancakes on the plates.

“All set,” she said, serving the boys. “Official pancakes. No cleaning products involved.”

Max grabbed his fork and took a bite. His eyes lit up. “This is good.”

Alex tried his and nodded. “Way better than cereal.”

Emily smiled, pleased, and served herself, too. Richard kept watching quietly. For the first time in months, the boys were calm, eating without complaining or making a mess.

“So,” Emily began, sitting down at the table, “what’s the plan for today? You guys have school?”

“No,” Alex replied. “It’s Saturday.”

“Oh, right,” Emily said, tapping her forehead. “I lost track of the days. So what do you do on Saturdays?”

“Nothing,” said Max, sounding bored. “Dad works.”

Emily looked over at Richard, who was drinking his coffee in silence. “You work on Saturdays?”

“I have meetings,” he said curtly.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Of course, because taking a break is for the weak, right?”

Richard stared at her. “I have responsibilities.”

“And I have two kids here who need some fun,” Emily replied. “So, today I’ll take care of them. You can go work in peace.”

Richard hesitated, but finally agreed. He finished his coffee and stood up.

“I’ll be back late afternoon.”

“Bye, Dad,” the boys called out.

Richard left and Emily was alone with Alex and Max.

“All right, boys,” she said, clapping her hands. “What do you want to do today?”

“Can we play video games?” Alex asked, excited.

“Can we play outside?” Max suggested.

Emily thought for a second. “How about both? Video games in the morning, playing outside in the afternoon. Fair?”

Both boys nodded, excited.

The day flew by. Emily played video games with them, sometimes letting them win and other times taking the lead. In the afternoon, she took them out to the garden and improvised a treasure hunt. They ran, laughed, and shouted, and Emily realized it had been a long time since she’d had that much fun.

When Richard arrived later that afternoon, he found the three of them in the garden—covered in dirt and laughing out loud. He watched from the window, surprised. The boys were actually listening to Emily without any resistance. No yelling, no tantrums, no complaints. Emily noticed Richard at the window and waved. He simply nodded back—serious.

Later that night, after the boys had showered and gone to bed, Emily came downstairs to the living room. Richard was sitting on the couch reading something on his tablet.

“Hi,” she said, sitting in the chair across from him.

He looked up. “Hi.”

“So,” Emily began, “I think I survived the first official day.”

Richard looked at her. “They listened to you.”

“I know,” she said with a smile. “Shocking, right?”

He was quiet for a moment, then said in a formal tone, “Thank you. You did a good job today.”

Emily blinked, surprised. “Wow, a thank you. Should I record this?”

Richard almost smiled. “Almost.”

“You know, Richard, you should try relaxing a little,” Emily went on, leaning back. “You’re so serious. You’re like a robot in a tie.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Robot in a tie?”

“Yeah,” she said, laughing. “All programmed, no emotion, always on autopilot. Work, meetings, coffee, repeat.”

Richard stared at her for a long moment. Then, for the first time, Emily saw the corner of his mouth lift slightly. It wasn’t a full smile, but it was something.

“Maybe,” he said, returning to his tablet.

Emily smiled, triumphant, and stood up. “Good night, robot.”

“Good night, Emily.”

She went upstairs feeling that maybe—just maybe—this could actually work out.

In the days that followed, Emily discovered that taking care of Alex and Max was like trying to tame two tiny tornadoes. One morning, Emily woke to a loud crash in the hallway. She jumped out of bed and ran to the door. Alex and Max were pushing a giant chair toward the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Emily yelled, rushing over.

“We’re going sledding!” Max replied, thrilled.

“Sledding?” Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s a chair.”

“But it works like a sled,” Alex insisted, grinning.

Emily grabbed the chair before they could send it flying down the steps. “No, it doesn’t. You’ll get hurt.”

“But we want to try it,” Max complained.

“Try it after I buy life insurance for both of you,” Emily said, pushing the chair back in place. “Now, breakfast. Let’s go.”

The boys groaned, but followed her.

In the kitchen, Emily tried to make scrambled eggs while the boys found creative ways to cause chaos. Max was throwing pieces of bread at the cat. Alex was trying to balance a spoon on his nose.

“Guys, please,” Emily said, trying not to laugh. “Just let me make breakfast without a disaster. Just one day.”

“We’re not doing anything,” Alex said innocently.

“You’re torturing the cat and turning the kitchen into a circus,” Emily replied, taking the bread from Max’s hand.

After the chaotic breakfast, Emily decided to clean the house. She turned up the music on her phone and started mopping the floor, singing at the top of her lungs. She twirled, sang, and pretended the broom was a microphone.

“And I’m not giving up. No,” she belted out, dancing with the broom.

What Emily didn’t know was that Alex and Max were hiding behind the couch, recording everything with the tablet.

“This is going to be epic,” Alex whispered, holding the tablet steady.

“She’s singing so bad,” Max laughed, covering his mouth.

Emily kept singing and cleaning, completely unaware she was being filmed.

Meanwhile, in the mansion’s office, Richard was in an important virtual meeting with three Japanese investors.

“So, Mr. Lancaster, we’re interested in expanding our partnership,” said one of the men on screen.

Richard nodded, serious. “Yes, we can discuss the contract terms.”

At that exact moment, the office door opened. Emily walked in wearing pajamas, hair a mess, holding a coffee mug.

“Richard, where’s the sugar? I can’t find it anywhere and I swear I looked in—”

She froze when she saw the screen. “Oh.”

The three investors blinked, surprised. Richard closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Emily,” he said calmly. “I’m in a meeting.”

“Oh.” She looked at the screen and gave a shy wave. “Hi, everyone. Sorry, I just—sugar. Never mind. Bye.”

She rushed out, slamming the door behind her. Richard looked back at the screen, trying to regain his professional tone.

“I apologize. That was my assistant.”

One of the investors smiled. “She seems charming.”

Richard cleared his throat. “Shall we continue?”

Later that day, Emily was in the living room singing again, this time to an upbeat song. She was swaying her hips, doing silly dance moves, and spinning with the broom. Alex and Max came running in.

“Emily, come dance with us!” Max shouted, jumping around.

“Let’s make a music video,” Alex suggested.

Emily dropped the broom and joined in. The three of them danced together, laughing loudly, making up crazy moves. Alex kept recording everything.

When they finished, he looked at the tablet. “It came out perfect.”

“Let me see,” Emily said, grabbing the tablet.

The video showed her dancing and singing off key while the boys did goofy choreography in the background.

“This is hilarious,” Emily laughed. “We look like a rock band that gave up halfway through.”

“I’m going to post it,” said Alex, grabbing the tablet back.

“Post it where?” Emily asked, frowning.

“On Daddy’s channel,” Alex replied, tapping a few buttons.

“Alex, no!” Emily shouted, trying to grab the tablet, but it was too late. The video was already online.

“Done,” Alex said proudly.

Emily’s eyes went wide. “Your dad has a channel?”

“No, but he has a public account. We always use it.”

Emily covered her face with both hands. “I’m going to get fired on day five. That has to be a record.”

A few hours later, Emily’s phone started going off non-stop. She picked it up and saw dozens of notifications.

“What is this?” she murmured, opening the social media app. The video of her dancing and singing with the boys had gone viral—thousands of views, comments, and shares. People were calling her the funniest nanny in New York and the CEO’s best employee.

“Oh, wow!” Emily sat down on the couch, stunned. “I’ve gone viral.”

“You’re famous!” Max cheered, jumping on the couch.

Right then, Richard walked into the room, holding his phone. His face was red with anger.

“Emily,” his voice was cold. “My office. Now.”

Emily swallowed hard and followed Richard into his office. He shut the door and turned to her.

“Can you explain this?” He held out his phone—the video on the screen.

“I—I didn’t know the boys were going to post it,” Emily stammered. “It was an accident.”

“An accident?” Richard crossed his arms. “My image is all over the place. People are talking about my personal life.”

“I know, I know,” Emily raised her hands. “But look on the bright side. Everyone thinks it’s cute.”

Richard narrowed his eyes. “Cute.”

“Yes. Look at the comments.” Emily grabbed his phone and read aloud. “‘What an amazing nanny. His kids are so lucky.’ ‘The CEO has a heart.’ See? You actually look human.”

Richard sighed, rubbing his forehead. “This is a disaster.”

Emily bit her lip, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

He stayed quiet, watching the video again. And then something unexpected happened. Richard let out a low laugh.

Emily blinked. “Are you laughing?”

He watched the video again, seeing her twirl with the broom, the boys jumping around, and laughed harder. “You’re a terrible dancer,” he said, still chuckling.

Emily crossed her arms, pretending to be offended. “Hey, I dance with heart—and with absolutely no rhythm.”

Richard added, laughing even more. She couldn’t help it and laughed too. “Okay, maybe I’m not the next pop star.”

Richard stopped laughing and looked at her, serious again. “Just let me know before posting anything.”

“All right, I promise,” Emily said, raising her hand. “No more accidental viral fame.”

He nodded and went back to work. Emily left the office relieved—but what she didn’t know was that the video had caught the attention of someone dangerous.

Across town, a stylish blonde woman watched the video on her phone with a fake smile on her face. Rebecca Whitmore, Richard’s ex-fiancée. She watched Emily dancing with the boys and pressed her lips together.

“So, Richard hired a nanny,” she murmured, calculating. “Interesting.”

She picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Hello. I’d like to schedule a visit to the Lancaster estate. Yes, tomorrow morning. Thank you.”

She hung up and smiled with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Emily was playing with the boys in the living room, completely unaware of the storm heading her way. That night, she lay in bed, still processing the crazy day. “Went viral, almost got fired, and made the tie-wearing robot laugh,” she whispered, smiling. “What a day.”

She closed her eyes, exhausted. But tomorrow would be even more complicated.

The next morning, Emily was in the kitchen making pancakes when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Alex shouted, running to the door.

“Alex, wait!” Emily called out, but he had already opened it.

A blonde woman walked in like she owned the place. She wore a tight red dress, high heels, and designer sunglasses. She carried two giant bags from expensive stores.

“Hello, darlings,” she said in a sweet voice. “Aunt Rebecca came to visit you.”

Emily appeared in the kitchen doorway, still holding the spatula. Her hair was up in rollers, her apron was dusted with flour, and she had a smudge of chocolate on her face. Rebecca took off her sunglasses and looked Emily up and down with a fake smile.

“Oh, hello,” her voice dripped with disdain. “You must be the new housekeeper.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Nanny. But you can call me Emily.”

“How sweet.” Rebecca handed her the shopping bags like she really was a maid. “Be a dear and take these to the living room. Will you?”

Emily looked at the bags, then at Rebecca, and smiled in the most fake way possible. “Sure. Would you like me to make you a juice, too? Or maybe wash your car?”

Rebecca blinked, confused by the sarcasm.

Max came running in. “Rebecca, did you bring a present?”

“Of course I did, sweetheart.” Rebecca knelt down with a big smile. “I brought you amazing toys.”

Emily put the bags down and crossed her arms, watching the scene. Rebecca opened the bags and pulled out two very expensive remote-controlled cars.

“Wow!” Alex shouted, grabbing one.

“Thanks, Rebecca,” said Max, excited.

Rebecca smiled triumphantly and looked at Emily. “It’s always nice to spoil the kids, isn’t it?”

Emily forced a smile. “Absolutely—nothing like buying affection with expensive toys.”

Rebecca pretended not to hear and stood up. “Where’s Richard?”

“In his office,” Emily replied flatly.

“Great.” Rebecca brushed past Emily on purpose. “Excuse me.”

Emily stood still, gripping the spatula like it was a weapon.

“Who is she?” Max asked, looking at Emily.

“A very polite person,” Emily answered sarcastically. “Now, shall we finish breakfast?”

As the boys headed back to the kitchen, Emily heard Rebecca’s voice echoing from the office. “Richard, I’ve missed you.”

Emily rolled her eyes and returned to the stove, hitting the pan with the spatula harder than necessary.

In the office, Richard looked up from his computer and saw Rebecca standing at the door.

“Rebecca,” his voice was neutral. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you’re doing.” She walked in and closed the door. “And to meet the new nanny. She’s interesting, Richard.”

“She’s doing a good job.”

“I’m sure she is.” Rebecca sat on the edge of his desk and crossed her legs. “But you know you can always count on me, right? I’ve always been here for you and the boys.”

Richard leaned back in his chair. “Rebecca, we broke up two years ago.”

“I know.” She touched his arm. “But I still care—and I know you do, too.”

Richard gently pulled his arm away. “I have work to do.”

Rebecca smiled like it was nothing. “Of course. But we should have dinner one of these days. Catch up.”

“Maybe,” Richard said, turning back to his computer.

Rebecca left the office with a satisfied smile.

In the kitchen, Emily was serving the boys while trying not to think about Rebecca.

“She’s annoying,” said Alex, chewing.

“Alex,” Emily scolded, trying not to laugh. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true,” Max insisted. “She only shows up when she wants something.”

Emily couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Rebecca wanted.

Later, Rebecca said goodbye to the boys with over-the-top hugs and left the mansion. As soon as the door closed, Emily let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Finally,” she muttered.

That night, after the boys were asleep, Richard found Emily in the living room watching TV.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

Emily turned off the TV. “Sure.”

Richard sat down on the couch next to her. “Does Rebecca bother you?”

Emily almost choked. “What? No. Why would she bother me?”

“You’ve been acting off all day.”

“Me? Off?” Emily laughed nervously. “Not at all. It’s just—she’s very elegant and perfumed and irritating.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “Irritating?”

“Yes.” Emily waved her arms. “She came in giving orders, treated everyone like staff, and had the nerve to call me cute.”

Richard almost smiled. “She’s always been like that.”

“Then why did you date her?” The question slipped out before Emily could stop it.

Richard was quiet for a moment. “Because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Emily felt something stir in her chest, but ignored it. “Well, you have terrible taste.”

Richard let out a low laugh. “Maybe.”

They sat in silence. Emily’s heart was racing and she quickly stood up. “Well, I’m going to bed.”

“Good night, Emily,” Richard called.

She stopped but didn’t turn around. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He hesitated. “Yes, for taking care of the boys.”

Emily smiled, still facing away. “You’re welcome, robot.”

She went up the stairs quickly before he could see the blush on her face.

Two days later, Emily was in her room when her phone buzzed. It was a notification from an online magazine. She opened it and her eyes went wide. The headline read: “Richard Lancaster and ex-fiancée Rebecca Whitmore back together.” Below it, a photo of the two of them at an event. Rebecca was next to Richard, smiling, holding on to his arm. They looked like a couple.

Emily felt her stomach twist. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, but couldn’t stop looking at the photo.

She walked downstairs and found Richard in the living room, also staring at his phone.

“Did you see this?” Emily asked, holding out her screen.

Richard sighed. “I did.”

“Is it true? Are you two back together?”

“No.” He looked her in the eye. “It was a business event. She showed up and took that photo without me noticing.”

Emily crossed her arms. “And you couldn’t have stopped her?”

Richard frowned. “Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

“Yes, you are.”

Emily opened her mouth to argue, but couldn’t form a proper sentence. Her voice caught. “I—I just—” she stammered. “It’s just—this complicates things.”

Richard took a step closer. “What things?”

Emily felt her face getting hot. “Things. The deal. The image. Everything.”

He kept looking at her like he was reading her thoughts. Emily couldn’t take it anymore. She turned and walked out of the room.

“Emily, wait—”

“I need to do something,” she shouted, rushing upstairs.

She locked herself in the bedroom and sat on the bed, staring at the photo again. The anger she felt didn’t make sense. Why did she care so much? She wasn’t supposed to care. It was just a deal, a contract. But when she saw Rebecca next to Richard, something inside her burned. And for the first time, Emily realized she was jealous.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, tossing the phone on the bed. “This can’t be happening.”

But it was.

Downstairs, Richard stood still in the living room, staring up at the stairs. He had realized it, too. Emily was jealous. And strangely, that made him smile.

A few days later, Emily was in the bedroom trying to pick an outfit when Richard knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she said, holding up two dresses.

Richard walked in, serious as always. “We need to talk about tonight’s dinner.”

Emily frowned. “What dinner?”

“The dinner with the Japanese investors.” He crossed his arms. “You’re coming with me.”

Emily dropped the dresses on the bed. “Me? Why?”

“Because you’re my wife. At least that’s what they need to believe.”

“Oh, right. The fake wife.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Almost forgot my role.”

Richard sighed. “It’s important, Emily. These investors are conservative. They value family and stability.”

“So, basically, you want me to pretend to be the perfect wife, smile nicely, and not say the wrong thing.”

“Exactly.”

Emily crossed her arms. “And what if I say no?”

Richard looked at her. “You won’t say no. It’s part of the deal.”

She huffed. “Fine. But if I say something stupid, that’s on you.”

Richard almost smiled. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

He left and Emily looked down at the dresses on the bed. “Perfect. Now I have to pretend to be classy.”

She picked up a green dress. “Emily, you really got yourself into a mess.”

At seven sharp, Emily came down the stairs wearing the green dress, high heels, and her hair up in a bun. She felt completely out of place. Richard was waiting in the hall in a black suit. When he saw Emily, he stopped looking at his phone.

“You look beautiful,” he said, surprised.

Emily gave a dramatic bow. “Thank you. I even tried to look like a civilized person.”

Richard held back a laugh. “Let’s go.”

In the car, Emily kept adjusting the dress. “This thing is squeezing everything. How do women wear this?”

“You’ll be fine,” Richard replied as he drove.

“Easy for you to say. All you have to do is stand there and look rich. I have to pretend to be classy.”

He glanced at her. “Just be yourself.”

Emily blinked. “You want me to be myself? Are you sure? Because when I’m myself, I become a meme on the internet.”

Richard let out a quiet laugh. “Maybe that’s exactly what I need.”

They arrived at the restaurant. It was a fancy place with crystal chandeliers and waiters in bow ties. Emily looked around, impressed.

“This place has more candles than a church.”

Richard took her arm. “Behave. Remember?”

“Relax, boss. I know how to fake it.”

The investors were already seated at a reserved table. Three middle-aged Japanese men stood up when they saw Richard.

“Mr. Lancaster,” greeted the oldest one with a smile.

“Mr. Tanaka.” Richard shook his hand. “This is my wife, Emily.”

Emily smiled and reached out. “Nice to meet you.”

The three men greeted her politely, and everyone sat down.

Dinner began. The waiters brought in fancy dishes Emily could barely pronounce. She looked at the plate in front of her and whispered to Richard.

“What is this?”

“Salmon carpaccio,” he answered quietly.

“Looks like raw sushi.”

“Because it is raw sushi.”

Emily made a face but ate it anyway.

The investors chatted about business while Emily tried to keep up. She smiled, nodded, and pretended to follow along.

“So, Mrs. Lancaster,” Mr. Tanaka said, turning to her. “What’s it like living with such a busy man?”

Emily nearly choked on her water. “Oh, it’s interesting. He works so much I sometimes forget he even lives there.”

Richard glanced at her from the side. The investors chuckled.

“But I get it,” Emily went on. “He’s dedicated—and when he’s home, he’s a great father to the boys.”

The men nodded in approval.

“Do you have kids?” one of the investors asked.

“Two,” Richard replied. “Alex and Max.”

“How lovely,” Mr. Tanaka smiled. “Family is everything.”

Emily agreed. “Absolutely—and those two are an adventure.”

The investors laughed again, and Richard relaxed a little.

Everything was going smoothly until the restaurant door opened. Rebecca Whitmore walked in, wearing a sleek white dress and a venomous smile. Emily felt her stomach twist. Rebecca made her way to their table like she’d been invited.

“Richard, what a crazy coincidence.”

Richard stood up, clearly uncomfortable. “Rebecca.”

“Hi, darling.” She glanced at the investors. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m Rebecca Whitmore—an old friend of Richard’s.”

Emily forced a smile. “How nice. Old friends do love showing up unannounced at private dinners.”

Rebecca ignored the remark and turned to the investors. “Hope you’re enjoying yourselves. Richard always had great taste in fancy places.”

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Richard said, trying to end it. “But we’re in the middle of a meeting.”

“Of course, of course.” Rebecca turned to Emily. “And you must be the new wife.”

Emily lifted her chin. “Yes. And you must be the ex-girlfriend who still hasn’t moved on.”

The investors went silent, watching closely. Rebecca gave a fake laugh. “How cute. But Richard and I have history, sweetheart—something you’ll never understand.”

Emily felt her anger rise, but stayed calm. “You’re right. I don’t understand how someone could lose an amazing man and still linger like a ghost from the past.”

Mr. Tanaka let out a quiet laugh. Rebecca turned red with rage.

“I was here before you ever showed up.”

“And yet you didn’t stay,” Emily said with a sharp smile. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

Rebecca clenched her fists. “You don’t know anything.”

Richard stood up and grabbed Emily’s arm. “That’s enough.”

But Emily wasn’t finished. “Look, Rebecca, you can show up wherever you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that he chose to move on. So maybe you should do the same.”

The whole dining room was watching now. Rebecca opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. Without thinking, Richard pulled Emily close and kissed her. It was firm, unexpected, and very public. The room fell silent for a second. Then applause began to echo.

Emily stood there wide-eyed, completely stunned by what had just happened. When Richard pulled back, she stared at him, dazed. Rebecca, red with embarrassment, turned around and stormed out of the restaurant. The investors applauded and smiled, clearly pleased with the display of affection.

“What a beautiful couple,” Mr. Tanaka said with a grin.

Richard sat back down as if nothing had happened. Emily, still standing, tried to catch her breath.

“Emily,” Richard said quietly. “Sit down.”

She sat, but her hands were trembling. Dinner continued, but Emily could barely focus. Her mind kept replaying the kiss over and over.

When they finally said goodbye to the investors and got in the car, the silence was deafening. Richard drove—serious—without saying a word. Emily stared out the window, taking deep breaths.

“You broke the contract,” she said at last.

Richard kept his eyes on the road. “It was necessary.”

“Necessary?” Emily turned toward him, stunned. “You kissed me in front of everyone.”

“And it worked. Rebecca left—and the investors were happy.”

Emily crossed her arms. “You can’t just kiss me without warning.”

“I know.” Richard tightened his grip on the wheel. “I’m sorry.”

She said nothing, letting it sink in.

“But it was necessary,” he said again, more softly.

Emily looked at him, trying to understand. “Why? Because of the investors—or because of her?”

Richard didn’t answer. Silence filled the car again, heavy as stone. Emily leaned her head against the window, heart pounding. She wasn’t sure if she was angry, confused, or something else.

When they got to the mansion, Richard parked and turned off the engine. Neither of them moved.

“Emily—” He finally looked at her.

She turned her face away. “What?”

“I—” Richard hesitated, which was rare for him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Emily felt a tightness in her chest. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

She got out of the car and walked into the house without looking back. Richard stayed in the car alone, staring at his hands. He had broken the contract. And worse—he didn’t regret it.

Inside, Emily walked upstairs, went into her room, and locked the door. She sat on the bed, touching her lips, still feeling the kiss.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispered. But deep down, she already knew the answer. She was falling in love—and that was never part of the deal.

The next morning, Emily came downstairs for breakfast, trying to act normal. But her heart raced every time she thought about the kiss. Richard was already at the table reading the newspaper. He looked up when she walked in.

“Good morning,” he said in a neutral tone.

“Good morning,” Emily replied, avoiding eye contact.

Alex and Max watched them closely.

“Why are you guys acting weird?” Max asked, chewing his cereal.

“We’re not acting weird,” Emily said quickly.

“Yes, you are,” Alex insisted. “Dad’s staring at you—and your face is all red.”

Emily nearly choked on her coffee. “I am not red.”

Richard cleared his throat and went back to reading. Max and Alex exchanged mischievous smiles.

After breakfast, Emily took the dishes to the sink while Richard headed up to his office. Alex whispered to Max.

“We have to do something.”

“Like what?” Max asked, confused.

“Get them together.” Alex pointed at Emily, then toward the office. “They like each other—but they’re both too stubborn to admit it.”

Max grinned. “Like in the movies.”

“Exactly. We’ll be the Cupids.”

They ran off to their room, plotting.

Later, Emily was cleaning the living room when Alex came running in dramatically.

“Emily! Max is stuck in Dad’s closet!”

Emily dropped the rag. “What? How?”

“He went in and accidentally locked himself in. You have to help.”

Emily rushed upstairs, following Alex to Richard’s room. The closet door was closed.

“Max,” she called, knocking. “Are you okay?”

“I’m stuck!” Max shouted from inside, pretending to panic.

Emily tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Where’s the key?”

“In Dad’s office,” Alex answered, barely hiding his smile.

Emily sighed and headed to the office. She knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Richard said, not looking up from his computer.

Emily walked in. “Your son locked your other son in the closet. Where’s the key?”

Richard frowned and stood up, pulling a set of keys from a drawer. “How did he even manage that?”

“No idea. Your kids are creative.”

They went upstairs together. Richard opened the closet and Max came out, pretending to be relieved.

“Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Emily.”

Alex popped up with an innocent smile. “Good thing you both came together.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “You two planned this, didn’t you?”

“No.” They both said at once, giggling.

Richard shook his head. “Go play now.”

The boys ran off laughing.

Emily looked at Richard. “They’re terrible—and way too smart.”

Richard agreed, almost smiling. The silence between them grew heavy.

“Well, I’m going back to cleaning,” Emily said quickly, leaving the room.

Richard stood still, watching her walk away.

That afternoon, while the boys played in the garden, Emily decided to explore the mansion. She’d always been curious about the closed-off area on the third floor. She climbed the stairs and found a locked door. She tried the handle. Locked.

“Interesting,” she murmured. She went back to Richard’s room and grabbed the key ring he had left on the dresser. She tried one key, then another, until the third one worked. The door creaked open.

Emily stepped inside slowly. It was an art studio. There were easels, brushes, paint, and canvases everywhere. She walked through the room, taking in the paintings—landscapes, portraits, flowers—all painted with care. In one corner, she found a wooden box. She opened it and saw a stack of old letters, yellowed with time. She picked one up and read:

“Richard, I promise I’ll paint our future together. Every moment, every smile. I’ll love you forever. —Clare.”

Emily felt a tightness in her chest. Clare. Richard’s late wife.

She read a few more letters, all full of love and hope. The last one read:

“If anything happens to me, take care of the boys and don’t blame yourself. Life is unpredictable. Be happy, Richard. You deserve it.”

Emily closed the letter. Her eyes misty. Now she understood. Richard wasn’t cold. He was trapped in guilt. She gently put everything back and left the studio, locking the door behind her.

Later, she found Richard in the garden, sitting on a bench, watching the sunset. Emily approached slowly.

“Mind if I sit?”

He nodded. She sat beside him and they stayed quiet for a few minutes.

“I went into the studio,” Emily finally said.

Richard tensed up. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Emily looked at him. “But now I understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why you keep everything bottled up. Why you hide behind that wall.”

Richard looked away. “It’s none of your business.”

“I know—but I care.” Emily took a deep breath. “You blame yourself, don’t you? For her death.”

Richard clenched his fists. “I wasn’t there. She had an accident and I was away on a business trip. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Emily felt her chest tighten. “Richard, there was no way you could have known.”

“I could have stayed,” he said, voice heavy. “But I chose work—and I lost her.”

Emily gently touched his arm. “She wouldn’t want you to live like this—stuck in guilt.”

Richard finally looked at her, his eyes red. “How do you know?”

“Because I read the letters. She loved you—and she wanted you to be happy.”

He stayed quiet, taking it in.

“You deserve to be happy again, Richard,” Emily said gently. “And the boys need a father who’s present—not a man stuck in the past.”

Richard lowered his head. “I don’t know how to let go.”

“You don’t have to let go. You just have to move forward. She’ll always be in your heart—but you have to live.”

A tear rolled down his face. Emily hugged him, and Richard let himself fall apart. They stayed like that for a few minutes—silent, just holding each other. When Richard finally pulled away, he wiped his face and looked at her.

“Thank you.”

Emily smiled. “You’re welcome, robot.”

He let out a weak laugh. “You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?”

“Never.”

They both laughed, and for the first time, things between them felt light.

But suddenly, Richard’s phone rang. He answered. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was urgent. Richard’s face went pale.

“What?” He stood up, nervous. “What do you mean?”

Emily frowned. “What is it?”

Richard hung up, his face tense. “Rebecca.”

“What did she do now?”

“She leaked it to the media.” Richard showed her the phone. “Our marriage. She exposed that it’s fake.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “What?”

Richard opened a news article. The headline read: “CEO Richard Lancaster and supposed wife faking marriage to deceive investors.” Below it were photos of them together and quotes from anonymous sources claiming the marriage was a lie.

Emily felt the ground vanish beneath her. “This—this could ruin everything.”

Richard clenched his phone. “She did it. She finally destroyed me.”

Emily took his hand. “We’ll fix this.”

“How?” Richard stared at her, desperate. “How do we fix a lie the whole world knows now?”

Emily had no answer.

Richard’s phone rang again. It was his lawyer.

“I need to take this,” Richard said, walking away.

Emily stayed in the garden, staring at the darkening sky. Everything she had built there—the trust of the boys, the connection with Richard, the feeling that she belonged—was crumbling. And for the first time, she didn’t know how to fix it.

She sat on the bench, hugging her knees, feeling the weight of it all. Inside, Richard was on the phone trying to control the damage, but the truth was already out—and there was no taking it back.

Emily looked at her trembling hands. “What have I done?” she whispered to herself. But there was no answer. Only the silence of the night falling over the mansion—and the certainty that everything was about to change.

The next day, Emily woke up to the sound of voices outside the mansion. She got out of bed and went to the window. Her eyes went wide. There were at least twenty journalists and photographers at the gate with cameras, microphones, and signs.

“This can’t be happening,” she murmured, stepping back from the window.

She went downstairs and found Richard in the living room, watching the news on TV. The anchor spoke in a serious tone.

“CEO Richard Lancaster is at the center of a scandal after reports revealed that his marriage to Emily Parker was allegedly staged to impress international investors.”

Emily froze at the doorway, her stomach in knots. The screen showed a photo of her at the dinner party beside Richard—then another of her working at the café.

“Former waitress with no qualifications hired to pretend to be the millionaire’s wife,” the anchor continued. “Sources say the deal included housing and a paycheck in exchange for public appearances.”

Emily covered her face with her hands. “I’m going to be sick.”

Richard turned off the TV and looked at her. “Don’t read social media.”

“Why?” Emily picked up her phone and opened it. She regretted it immediately. The comments were brutal.

She’s just in it for the money. Shameful. Using kids for fame. Gold digger of the year.

Emily felt the sting of tears. “They hate me.”

“They don’t know you,” Richard said, trying to approach her.

Emily stepped back. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone thinks I’m a fraud.”

At that moment, Alex and Max ran down the stairs.

“Emily!” Max shouted. “There are a ton of people outside.”

“They’re shouting your name,” Alex added, excited.

Emily knelt down in front of them. “Boys, you can’t go outside today, okay.”

“Why?” Alex asked, confused.

“Because—” Emily hesitated. “Because there are annoying people out there.”

“Are they reporters?” Max’s eyes grew wide. “Like in the movies.”

“Exactly. And they’re not nice.”

Richard stepped in. “Boys, go play in your room now.”

They obeyed, but looked back at Emily with concern.

As soon as they went upstairs, Richard grabbed his phone. “I’m going to give an interview.”

Emily frowned. “What? Why?”

“Because I need to clear this up.”

“Richard, that’ll make it worse. Just let it go.”

“No.” He looked at her—firm. “I won’t let them destroy you.”

Emily blinked, surprised.

Richard called his press adviser and scheduled a press conference for that afternoon. At three, Richard stood in front of the mansion, surrounded by reporters. The cameras were rolling, broadcasting live. Emily watched from the window, nervous.

“Mr. Lancaster,” a reporter shouted, “is it true your marriage is fake?”

Richard raised his hand, asking for silence. “I’m here to set the record straight.”

Everyone went quiet.

“When I met Emily Parker, I was lost,” his voice was steady. “My kids were out of control and I was buried in work, unable to be the father they needed.”

The reporters listened closely.

“Emily is not a gold digger. She’s an incredible woman who turned my house into a home. She brought life, joy, and love back to my family.”

Emily felt the tears fall.

“Yes, our marriage started as an agreement,” Richard admitted. “But it became something real—and I won’t stay silent while they try to destroy the reputation of the woman I love.”

Emily’s eyes widened. He—He said he loves me.

Richard went on. “Emily Parker is my wife—for real—and anyone who tries to slander her will have to deal with me.”

The press area exploded with questions, but Richard simply turned around and walked back into the mansion.

Social media went wild. “CEO defends wife live on air.” “Richard Lancaster declares love in press conference.” “Rebecca Whitmore exposed as the source of the lie.”

Inside the mansion, Richard found Emily standing in the living room, crying.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice shaky.

“I had to.” Richard stepped closer. “You deserve it.”

Emily shook her head. “But now everyone knows it started as a lie. You’re going to lose contracts. Investors.”

“I don’t care.” Richard held her face gently. “I only care about you.”

Emily closed her eyes, letting the tears fall. “I can’t stay, Richard.”

He froze. “What?”

“I brought this on you. All this chaos.” Emily stepped back. “You and the boys deserve peace—and all I’ve brought is scandal.”

“Emily, no—”

“I’m leaving.”

She turned and went upstairs before he could stop her. Richard stood there, stunned.

Meanwhile, Rebecca was watching Richard’s press conference on TV—her face red with anger. Her phone rang. It was her agent.

“Rebecca, we need to talk. Your contracts were cancelled. Brands don’t want to be associated with you after what you did.”

Rebecca hung up, furious—but it was too late. She had lost everything.

Back at the mansion, Emily was packing in the bedroom, trying not to cry. The door opened. Alex and Max walked in, their eyes wide.

“You’re leaving?” Max asked in a tiny voice.

Emily swallowed hard. “I—I have to, sweethearts.”

“Why?” Alex came closer. “Did you do something wrong?”

“No. No.” Emily knelt down in front of them. “Sometimes things just don’t work out, you know.”

Max started crying. “But we like you.”

“And I like you.” Emily hugged them, crying, too. “So, so much.”

Alex held her tightly. “You can’t go. You’re our mom now.”

Emily felt her heart break. “You’ll be okay. You have your dad.”

“But we want you, too,” Max cried.

The three of them stayed there—hugging, crying together. Emily kissed their foreheads. “Be good, okay? And take care of your dad.”

She grabbed her bags and went downstairs. The boys stayed in the room, holding each other and crying.

In the living room, Emily looked around one last time. That mansion had been her refuge, her second chance. But now she had to leave. She opened the door and stepped out. A taxi was already waiting by the gate, away from the reporters still gathered outside. Emily got in the car without looking back.

Minutes later, Richard came home. He had gone to the office to pick up some documents.

“Emily,” he called out, heading upstairs. “We need to talk.”

He walked into her room. It was empty. The drawers were open. The closet was bare. The bed was made. She was gone.

Richard sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. Alex and Max appeared in the doorway, eyes red.

“She left, Dad,” Alex said, his voice breaking.

Richard looked at his sons and saw the pain on their faces. For the first time, he realized the true mistake he had made—not in making the agreement, but in letting her go.

“Dad, are you going to go after her?” Max asked hopefully.

Richard didn’t answer. He just stared out the window, watching Emily’s taxi disappear around the corner. He had lost something more valuable than any contract. He had lost Emily. And now the mansion felt cold, empty, and silent again—just like it had been before she arrived.

The following days at the Lancaster mansion were the worst Richard had ever lived. The house was far too quiet. No more laughter, no more loud music, no more cheerful voices echoing through the halls. Alex and Max barely left their room. When they did come down to eat, they stayed quiet, just pushing food around on their plates with no appetite.

“Boys, you need to eat,” Richard said, trying to sound firm.

“I’m not hungry,” Max mumbled, staring down.

“Me neither,” Alex added, folding his arms.

Richard sighed. He didn’t know what to do. He never knew how to deal with emotions—especially not his kids.

“Is she coming back?” Max asked in a small voice.

Richard swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know.”

“You should go get her,” Alex said, looking straight at his dad. “Like in the movies. You run, say sorry, and she comes back.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” Max looked at him, eyes watery. “You like her. She likes you. It is simple.”

Richard had no answer. The boys got up and went back to their room, leaving their plates untouched. Richard stayed alone at the table, staring at the full plates. For the first time in years, he felt completely lost.

The next day, Alex and Max started acting differently. They wouldn’t listen anymore. They shouted, threw things, refused to bathe, and threw tantrums over everything. Richard tried to set boundaries, but nothing worked.

“Alex, put those toys away. Now,” he ordered, exhausted.

“No. Emily let us play.”

“I’m not Emily.”

“We know,” Max shouted. “That’s why you should go get her.”

Richard clenched his fists, trying to stay calm. But inside, he was falling apart.

That night, after finally getting the boys to bed, Richard went to Clare’s old office. He sat in the chair and opened the box of letters. He picked up the last one Clare had written.

Be happy, Richard. You deserve it.

He read it again and again. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of those words. Clare had wanted him to be happy. And Emily had done that. She had brought life back to him, to the house, to the boys—and he had let her go.

“What did I do?” he whispered, covering his face with his hands.

Richard grabbed his phone and dialed Emily’s number. It rang and rang, then went to voicemail. He tried again. Same result. She wasn’t going to answer. He needed to find her in person.

Meanwhile, across the city, Emily was starting over. She had rented a tiny room in a modest neighborhood in New York City. It wasn’t much, but it was hers.

The day after she left the mansion, Emily started looking for a job. She visited several places until she found an opening at a small, cozy café in Brooklyn.

“Do you have experience?” asked the owner, a kind older woman named Helen.

“I do. I worked as a waitress for years before—” Emily hesitated “—before I got myself into a mess.”

Helen smiled. “Everyone deserves a fresh start. You’re hired.”

Emily felt a huge wave of relief. “Thank you. Really, thank you.”

In the days that followed, Emily threw herself into the work. She served customers, cleaned tables, made coffee, and tried not to think about Richard or the boys—but it was impossible. Every time she saw a child at the café, she thought of Alex and Max. Every time someone ordered black coffee with no sugar, she thought of Richard.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Helen asked one afternoon.

Emily forced a smile. “I’m fine—just tired.”

Helen didn’t believe it, but didn’t push.

At night, Emily went back to her little room and turned on the TV, but she always changed the channel when she saw news about Richard Lancaster. She had left to avoid causing more trouble—but that didn’t mean she had stopped caring.

A week later, Richard finally found the courage. He left the office in the middle of the day—something he never did—and began searching for Emily. He called every café in New York one by one, asking if they had an employee named Emily Parker. On the thirteenth call, he finally got a response.

“Yes, we have an Emily here. Why do you ask?” Helen said, suspicious.

Richard took a deep breath. “I need to speak with her. It’s urgent.”

“And who are you?”

“Someone who made a mistake.”

He hung up before she could ask more.

The next day, Richard walked into the café where Emily worked. It was a small, cozy place full of people chatting and sipping coffee. He stood at the entrance, looking for her—and then he saw her. Emily was behind the counter, writing down an order, laughing at something a customer had said. Richard’s chest tightened. She looked beautiful—lighter, somehow.

He got in line, waiting his turn. Emily hadn’t noticed him yet. She was too busy making a cappuccino. When it was Richard’s turn, Emily looked up and froze. The smile disappeared from her face.

“Richard?”

He swallowed hard. “Hi.”

Emily blinked, trying to process. “What are you doing here?”

“I came—” Richard hesitated, searching for the right words. “I came to get a coffee.”

Emily crossed her arms. “Really? You crossed the whole city for a coffee?”

“And to say—I’m sorry.”

The whole café went quiet. Everyone was watching.

“Emily, don’t do this here.”

“I have to.” He stepped closer. “I messed everything up. I let you walk away when I should have asked you to stay.”

“You couldn’t ask me for anything,” Emily said, her voice trembling. “I brought the scandal. I ruined your reputation.”

“You brought life.” Richard looked her in the eyes. “You taught me how to live again. How to be a real father. How to feel something besides guilt.”

Emily felt tears rising. “Richard, stop.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I spent years stuck in the past—and you freed me from it. You turned my house into a home, and I was a fool not to realize I loved you until it was too late.”

Emily covered her mouth with her hand, crying.

Without caring who was around, Richard dropped to one knee right there in the middle of the café. “Emily Parker, I’m not asking as a CEO. I’m asking as a man, as a father, as someone who truly loves you.” He held her hand. “Give me a second chance. Not because of a contract, but because we love each other.”

The entire café had gone quiet, waiting for her answer. Emily looked at him—crying, trembling.

“Richard—the boys love you. I love you.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Please come back home.”

Emily tried to resist—tried to remember all the reasons she had left—but she couldn’t, because love spoke louder.

“Get up,” she said, her voice choked.

Richard stood, still holding her hand. Emily pulled him close and kissed him right there in front of everyone. The café erupted in applause and cheers. Behind the counter, Helen wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I always knew there was a story behind this.”

When Emily pulled away, she looked into Richard’s eyes. “If I come back, there won’t be any more lies. No more contracts. Just us. For real.”

“For real,” Richard promised, with a smile.

Emily smiled, too—tears of joy on her face. “All right, then. I’m coming back.”

Richard pulled her into a tight hug and she let herself break down in his arms.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I left,” Emily replied.

They stayed in that embrace as the café buzzed around them with joy.

Helen stepped over, wiping her hands on her apron. “Emily, honey, I think you’re going to have to quit.”

Emily laughed, still crying. “Sorry, Helen—but I think you’re right.”

“Go,” Helen smiled. “Be happy.”

Emily grabbed her bag, took Richard’s hand, and the two walked out of the café together. Outside, Richard stopped and looked at her.

“Ready to go back?”

Emily smiled. “Ready.”

They got in the car and headed back to the mansion. This time—not as boss and employee, not as a deal—but as two hearts that had finally found each other.

When the car stopped in front of the mansion, Emily felt her heart race. Richard got out first and opened the door for her.

“Ready?”

Emily looked at the big house and took a deep breath. “Ready.”

They walked in together. The mansion was silent. Too silent.

“Where are the boys?” Emily asked, frowning.

Richard looked around. “They’re probably in their room.”

Emily ran up the stairs. She stopped at the boys’ bedroom door and knocked softly. “Boys,” she called, gently. Silence. She slowly opened the door.

Alex and Max were sitting on the floor, drawing quietly. When they saw Emily, they froze.

“Emily?” Max whispered, his eyes wide.

“Hey, guys,” she said, smiling.

Max was the first to react. He jumped up and ran into her arms. “You’re back!”

Alex followed quickly, hugging her tightly. “We knew you’d come back.”

Emily knelt down and hugged them both, crying with happiness. “I’m so sorry I left. I really am.”

“You’re not leaving again, right?” Max asked, holding her face.

“Never again,” Emily promised. “I’m here to stay.”

Alex smiled. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

Richard appeared in the doorway, watching with a quiet smile.

Max looked at his dad. “Dad, you did it!”

“We did it,” Richard corrected, stepping into the room. “All of us.”

The boys hugged Emily again—laughing and bouncing with excitement. The house, once cold and quiet, was alive again.

In the days that followed, the mansion’s routine changed completely. Emily woke up early and made breakfast while singing. The boys would come running downstairs—laughing and playing. Richard spent more time at home—working less and living more.

One morning, while Emily was making pancakes, Richard walked into the kitchen holding an envelope.

“What’s that?” she asked, flipping a pancake. “Our old contract?”

Richard placed the envelope on the table. “I came to return it.”

Emily looked at him—confused. “Return it?”

Richard picked up the paper, tore it in half, and threw it in the trash. “It’s over. We don’t need it anymore.”

Emily smiled. “So now we’re contract-free.”

“Exactly.” Richard stepped closer. “Just us. For real.”

She crossed her arms, teasing. “And how do I know you’re not going to fire me again?”

Richard held her waist. “Because this time I don’t want an employee. I want a wife.”

Emily blinked. “A wife? Like for real? For real?”

Richard pulled a small box from his pocket. Emily’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“I’ve never been more serious.” He opened the box, revealing a simple, beautiful ring. “Emily Parker, will you marry me—for real this time?”

Emily looked at the ring, then at him, and let out a nervous laugh. “You picked the kitchen to propose while I’m making pancakes.”

“I thought it was romantic,” Richard said, holding back a smile.

Emily shook her head, laughing. “You’re terrible at romance.”

“I know—but I love you.”

She stopped laughing and looked into his eyes. “I love you, too, robot.”

Richard smiled. “So, is that a yes?”

Emily pretended to think. “Hmm. Let’s see. Giant house, two hilarious kids, a workaholic husband who finally learned how to smile—”

She took the ring and slipped it on her finger. “Yes. I do.”

Richard pulled her close and kissed her while the pancakes burned on the stove.

“The pancakes!” Emily shouted, running to the stove.

Richard laughed out loud—something he rarely did. And Emily noticed he was different now—lighter, more human.

The boys came running downstairs after hearing the shout.

“What happened?” Alex asked, worried.

Emily showed the ring. “Your dad just proposed to me.”

Max jumped. “Seriously?”

“For real?” Alex’s eyes went wide.

“For real,” Richard confirmed.

The boys cheered—shouting and jumping around the kitchen.

“We’re going to have a real mom!” Max shouted.

Emily knelt down and opened her arms. “Come here, you two.”

They hugged her tightly—and Richard joined them. For the first time in years, he felt like he had a real family.

Meanwhile, across town, Rebecca Whitmore was watching the news. The headline read: “Richard Lancaster and Emily Parker officially engaged.” Rebecca squeezed the remote in anger and turned off the TV.

“This can’t be happening.”

She grabbed her phone and called a journalist friend. “I need you to publish something about Richard and that waitress.”

“Rebecca, we already tried. No one wants that story anymore. People are rooting for them.”

“I don’t care,” Rebecca shouted. “Do something.”

“Sorry. I can’t help you.”

Her friend hung up. Rebecca threw the phone on the couch—furious. But she wasn’t going to give up that easily.

A few days later, Richard and Emily were having dinner at an upscale restaurant when Rebecca showed up. She walked over to their table wearing a fake smile.

“Well, hello, love birds.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Again?”

Rebecca ignored her and looked at Richard. “I just came to say congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you,” Richard said flatly. “You can go now.”

“Actually, I wanted to say one more thing.” Rebecca turned to Emily. “You may have won him over—but you’ll never be what I was.”

Emily laughed. “You’re right. I’ll never be like you.”

Rebecca smiled, thinking she’d won.

“See—because I’m not fake, manipulative, or desperate,” Emily added sweetly.

The entire restaurant went quiet. Rebecca flushed with anger.

“And one more thing,” Emily stood up, facing her. “He chose to move on—with me. Maybe you should, too. Holding on to the past just makes you look pathetic.”

Rebecca opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Richard stood as well, taking Emily’s hand.

“Let’s go.”

They walked out of the restaurant, leaving Rebecca standing alone—red with embarrassment. People around them whispered. Some even took pictures. The next day, the internet was flooded with videos and comments about the scene. Rebecca became the target of jokes. She tried to defend herself online, but it only made things worse. Eventually, she shut down all her accounts and disappeared from the spotlight.

Back at the mansion, life was calm and happy. Emily woke up early to make breakfast. The boys ran through the house—laughing and playing. Richard worked less and spent more time with the family.

One afternoon, while Emily was tidying up the living room, she found an old photo of Clare. She looked at it, feeling a pinch in her chest. Clare was beautiful, graceful, and smiling. Richard walked in and saw Emily holding the photo.

“You found it.”

Emily turned around. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to snoop.”

“It’s okay.” Richard stepped closer. “She was amazing.”

“I know.” Emily looked at the photo again. “Sometimes I feel like I’m taking her place.”

Richard gently held her face. “You’re not taking anyone’s place. You have your own place. In my heart, in the boys’ lives, in this home.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure.” He kissed her forehead. “Clare taught me how to love—and you taught me how to live again. There’s room in my heart for both.”

Emily hugged him—touched. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me be part of all this.”

Richard hugged her back. “Thank you for saying yes.”

That night, the family had dinner together. Alex and Max were telling jokes. Emily laughed loudly. And Richard watched it all with a genuine smile.

“Dad, are you happy?” Max suddenly asked.

Richard looked at his son. “Very.”

“Us, too,” said Alex, smiling.

Emily reached for Richard’s hand across the table. “Me, too.”

The house—once cold and quiet—was now full of life. Laughter echoed through the hallways. Music played. And someone was always running or playing.

Emily was no longer the desperate girl who had said yes to a crazy deal on a rainy night. She was the woman who turned a mansion into a home. The woman who brought a smile back to a man who was lost. The mother two little boys needed. And most of all—she was loved. Truly loved.

As she tidied the room that evening, Emily looked out the window and saw Richard in the yard with the boys, playing soccer. She smiled—warmth in her chest.

“Who would have thought?” she whispered to herself. “The unlucky girl found her family.”

Months later, the Lancaster mansion looked completely different. Not in structure or decoration—but in the energy filling every room. There were flowers everywhere, white chairs arranged in the garden, and an arch covered with white and green roses in the center of the lawn. It was the wedding day.

Emily stood in the bedroom looking at herself in the mirror. She wore a simple, elegant off-white dress that fit perfectly. Her hair was loose in soft curls, and she wore just a touch of pink lipstick.

“You look beautiful,” said her friend Jennifer, who had come from Boston especially for the wedding.

Emily smiled nervously. “I’m shaking.”

“It’s normal. You’re about to marry a millionaire.”

“I’m about to marry Richard,” Emily corrected her. “The money is just a detail.”

Jennifer laughed. “Who would have guessed, huh? The girl who got evicted in the rain is now getting married in a mansion.”

Emily looked out the window and saw the guests taking their seats. Not many—just close family and dear friends, exactly how she wanted it.

“I’m ready,” said Emily, taking a deep breath.

She walked slowly down the stairs. In the hall, Alex and Max were waiting—wearing little suits and crooked ties.

“You two look so handsome,” said Emily, fixing their ties.

“You look prettier,” Max said, smiling.

“We’re going to walk you out,” announced Alex, offering his arm.

Emily held both of their hands—touched. “Thanks for staying,” Alex said, looking at her sincerely.

Emily’s eyes filled with tears. “I was never going anywhere.”

The three of them walked out into the garden. The music started playing—a soft acoustic version of a romantic song. The guests stood. Emily walked down the aisle hand-in-hand with Alex and Max, one on each side. The boys guided her proudly, big smiles on their faces.

At the end of the aisle, Richard waited. He wore a sharp gray suit—but what stood out the most was the genuine smile on his face. His eyes sparkled as he watched Emily approach. When she reached him, Richard held out his hand. Emily let go of the boys’ hands and took his.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Richard replied, smiling.

The officiant—a kind older gentleman named Thomas—began the ceremony. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of Richard Lancaster and Emily Parker,” he said, smiling. “Two hearts brought together in a rather unexpected way.”

The guests chuckled softly.

“Richard, would you like to say your vows?”

Richard looked at Emily and took a deep breath. “Emily, when I met you, I was lost—stuck in the past, unable to live in the present. You came into my life like a hurricane—messy, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore.”

Emily laughed, wiping away a tear.

“You taught me how to smile again. How to play with my kids. How to feel.”

Richard gently squeezed her hand. “You turned my house into a home, and I promise to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me. You were the best investment I ever made.”

Emily let out a teary laugh. “Investment? You’re terrible at romance. You know that?”

The guests burst out laughing. The officiant smiled. “Emily, your vows.”

Emily wiped her tears and looked at Richard. “Richard, I had nothing when I met you. Literally nothing. Four soaked suitcases, a broken shoe, and a desperate need to laugh at my own misery.”

Everyone laughed.

“You gave me a roof, a job, a chance. But you gave me much more than that. You gave me a family.”

Emily looked at the boys. “You gave me a reason to wake up happy every day. And I promise to be the best mother, wife, and partner I can be—even if that means burning pancakes from time to time.”

Richard smiled—deeply moved.

“I love you, robot,” Emily said, her voice trembling.

“I love you, Hurricane,” Richard replied.

The officiant smiled. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Richard, you may kiss the bride.”

Richard pulled Emily close and kissed her as the guests clapped and cheered. Alex and Max jumped up, celebrating.

“Our mom! Our mom!”

The party started right after. Tables were set up in the garden with simple but delicious food. There was live music, lights hanging from the trees, and a small dance floor. Emily and Richard had the first dance. She stepped on his foot twice, and they both laughed out loud.

“You’re just as bad at dancing as I am,” Richard teased.

“Hey, I dance with soul,” Emily shot back. “Just no coordination at all.”

She gave his shoulder a playful smack, still laughing.

After the dance, it was time for speeches. Jennifer went first. “I’ve known Emily for years. She’s always been the most fun and optimistic person I know. Even when everything went wrong, she still made jokes. And today, seeing her here happy, I just want to say—you deserve this, my friend. All this love, all this happiness. Congratulations.”

The guests applauded.

Then it was Emily’s turn. She took the microphone, a little nervous.

“Folks, I’ve never been great at speeches, so I’ll try not to mess this up.” She looked around. “A few months ago, I was standing in the rain with no home, no job, no hope. And I remember thinking—Emily, this is rock bottom. It can’t get any worse.”

People laughed.

“But then a black car pulled up in front of me—and a serious, robotic-looking man offered me the craziest deal of my life.”

Emily looked at Richard. “Marry him. Pretend to be his wife. Take care of kids I had never even met.”

Richard smiled, shaking his head.

“And I, in a very sane moment, said yes,” Emily laughed. “Because I had nothing to lose. But what I didn’t know was that I’d gain everything. A family. A home. Real love.”

She looked at the boys. “Alex, Max—you two are the best sons I could ever have. Thank you for accepting me.”

The boys ran to her and hugged her tight. Emily continued, holding back tears. “Life can change on a rainy night. It can flip upside down. But sometimes that’s exactly what we need. Because if I hadn’t lost everything, I would have never found all of you.”

She looked at Richard. “Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for loving me just as I am—messy, loud, and with no clue about social etiquette.”

Richard laughed, wiping his eyes. “I love you, Richard—and I promise to make you laugh every day for the rest of your life.”

The guests applauded—many of them emotional. Richard stood, took the mic, and pulled Emily close.

“You already keep that promise. Every single day.”

They kissed again while everyone cheered. The party went on late into the night. Kids ran through the garden. Adults chatted and laughed. And the music never stopped.

At one point, Emily and Richard stepped aside, watching everything from a distance.

“We did it,” Emily said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“We did,” Richard agreed, kissing the top of her head.

“Do you still think I was a good investment?” Emily teased.

Richard looked into her eyes. “The best one of all.”

“You’re getting good at this.”

“At what?”

“Being romantic.”

Richard chuckled. “That’s your fault. You corrupted me.”

“And I’ll keep doing it. Get ready.”

They laughed together, holding each other, watching the boys dancing awkwardly on the makeshift dance floor.

“Look at them,” Emily said, laughing. “They dance as badly as we do.”

“It’s genetic,” Richard joked.

Emily turned to him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me be part of this. For believing in me. For loving me.”

Richard held her face in his hands. “Thank you for showing up that rainy night. For accepting my crazy proposal. For staying.”

They kissed again under the lights in the trees—surrounded by love, laughter, and music. The Lancaster mansion was no longer cold and quiet. It was full of life, joy, and real love. Emily was no longer the girl who got evicted. She was the woman who had found her place in the world. And Richard was no longer the man stuck in the past. He was the man who had learned how to live again.

Together, they had built something no contract could ever define: a family, a home, a real love. And as the music played and the stars shone above, Emily and Richard danced under the moonlight—surrounded by everything that truly mattered.

Love that was born from chaos, grew through laughter, and blossomed into truth.

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