Billionaire Got His Maid Pregnant and Abandoned Her — But He Regrets It When He Sees Her Again
The grand chandelier cast a cold light over the marble floor as Alexander Pierce, a billionaire hotel magnate, pointed sharply toward the door.
“Get out,” he said, his voice like steel.
Clara Dawson, the young maid in her crisp blue uniform, stood frozen, her hands instinctively covering the small swell of her belly. “Please, Alexander… it’s yours,” she whispered.
His jaw tightened. “I don’t care what you say. I will not be manipulated into this.”
It had started months earlier—late nights at the mansion, a quiet closeness between them when most of the staff had gone home. Clara had never intended for anything to happen, but one moment of vulnerability had changed everything. And now, she was pregnant.
She had hoped he would step up, that the man she had fallen for wasn’t just the cold businessman everyone feared. But she was wrong.
“You’ll be compensated,” Alexander said flatly. “But I don’t want to see you here again.”
Tears burned in Clara’s eyes as she walked past him, her heart breaking not just for herself but for the child she now knew she’d raise alone.
Five years passed. Clara had built a modest but stable life in a small coastal town, working as a receptionist at a local inn. Her son, Noah, was the center of her world—bright-eyed, curious, and with a smile that reminded her painfully of Alexander.
One rainy afternoon, the inn’s manager approached her. “Clara, we’ve got a VIP guest arriving. Handle him personally.”
When she stepped into the lobby, her heart stopped. Standing there in a tailored navy suit, his hair flecked with the faintest silver, was Alexander Pierce.
For a brief moment, he didn’t seem to recognize her. Then his eyes widened, his confident expression faltering. “Clara…”
She straightened her posture, keeping her voice even. “Mr. Pierce. Welcome to Seabreeze Inn.”
It was Noah who broke the tension, running into the lobby holding a paper airplane. “Mom! Look what I made!” He froze when he saw Alexander, the resemblance impossible to miss.
Alexander’s gaze dropped to the boy, his lips parting slightly. “He’s…?”
“Yes,” Clara said, her voice sharp. “Yours.”
Over the next few days, Alexander found himself drawn to the inn’s cozy warmth—and to Noah. The boy, unaware of the history between them, was eager to show him his paper airplanes, his drawings, even ask questions about the “big city.”
One evening, after dinner, Alexander asked Clara if they could talk. They sat on a bench overlooking the ocean, the waves crashing in the distance.
“I was a fool,” Alexander admitted. “I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was lose you… and him.”
Clara didn’t look at him. “You made your choice.”
“I want to make a different one now,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with desperation. “Let me be part of his life. And maybe… try to earn a place in yours again.”
She studied him, searching for sincerity. For the first time, she saw something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before—humility.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Clara said finally. “But Noah deserves to know his father.”
Alexander nodded, knowing it was more than he deserved, but it was a start.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Clara rose, calling for her son. And when Noah ran to join them, Alexander reached down, taking the small hand in his. This time, he wasn’t letting go.