She thought she was cleaning without witnesses. The millionaire was watching—and what he saw changed everything.

Enrique glanced toward Julia, who was quietly working a few steps away, unaware that a storm was already forming.

“When are you arriving?” he asked, his throat dry.

—Monday morning. I’ll stay for a few days.

He ended the call slowly. The mansion, with all its marble and silence, suddenly felt like a stage waiting for impact.

Julia noticed the change in his expression.

—Is everything alright, sir?

—My ex-wife is coming back.

Julia paused, then nodded respectfully, careful not to overstep.

—If you need privacy, I can adjust my schedule.

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Her restraint touched him more than she knew. Enrique shook his head.

—No. There’s no need. You’re doing your job perfectly.

That night, he didn’t sleep. Two images clashed relentlessly in his mind: Fernanda—who believed everything had a price—and Julia, who had proven that some things never should.

Monday arrived with a luxury car pulling into the driveway. Fernanda stepped out wearing designer sunglasses and confidence sharpened by years of privilege.

—Enrique! I’ve missed you so much.

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