She conceived a child and had no idea what to do next. That child is Brian Micheal.
True to his word, Gregory never approached her again after that day. He acted as though nothing had happened, and his wife never heard a single whisper of it. Life, on the surface, continued as usual.
Lost and terrified, she eventually told Brian's father about the pregnancy.
He surprised her by telling her to keep the child.
The irony was cruel. The very reason his wife drowned herself in work was because she was hiding from the world, from pity, from herself. She was barren. She could not bear a child and see to it that her husband stay away from women, at least she thought she was well informed about his daily life.
When the girl broke down in tears, confessing everything and claiming that her boss would kill her if she ever found out, Brian's father made a decision. He told her to resign.
And she did.
She did not care about the man who fathered her child. What mattered to her was the belief she had always carried that everything happened for a reason. This child existed for a reason.
She had something to protect now.
Brian's father didn't feel particularly attached to the idea of having a child. Still, he didn't see it as a problem. He rarely took anything seriously. Life, to him, was a sequence of events meant to entertain or benefit him.
He sent her money.
She never touched it.
Fear followed her everywhere. She knew exactly what her former boss was capable of. If the woman ever found out, neither she nor her child would survive.
She moved far away, changed her environment, and found a simple job, just enough to sustain herself quietly.
But Brian's father found her.
As easily as he always did.
His wife found her too.
The woman was displeased, not furious, just curious. The assistant had been competent, efficient, unusually tolerant of her temper. Losing someone like that had been inconvenient.
When she finally met the girl again, she noticed how pale she looked. Fragile. Different.
For the first time, she spoke to her with concern, asking if she needed help.
That kindness broke something inside the girl.
She refused the offer to return, even when the woman offered a higher salary.
The CEO's wife left without answers.
Not long after, Brian was born.
That was when Brian's father decided to "do the right thing."
And that was when everything truly began to fall apart.
It took his wife time to notice as her work consumed her completely, but once she did, she never missed details. Patterns unraveled. Absences aligned. Truth surfaced.
By then, Brian's mother had relaxed. She was raising her two-year-old peacefully, her fear slowly dissolving.
She believed she was safe.
She was wrong.
Brian's father was being watched. Followed.
When the truth became undeniable, the woman didn't bother with confrontation. She didn't scream. She didn't argue.
She ordered it.
The girl was to be killed.
So was the child.
Brian's mother was killed but little Brian was saved.
---
Brian grew up without knowing any of this.
When he learned to read, he found his mother's diary. Every page bled truth. Every sentence carried pain she never spoke aloud.
He wanted to hate someone.
But his father paid for his education. Paid for their food. Paid for the maids who cared for them.
When school demanded parents, his father's assistant attended.
Later, Brian learned the truth that someone had always been watching them. Protecting them.
But they arrived too late on that dreadful night.
They had burst in just as the men sent to kill them were trying to locate Brian's room.
Those men were captured.
They were tortured until they confessed who sent them.
Brian's father had his wife imprisoned.
No official crime was announced, but he didn't need one. With his influence, she rotted in prison regardless. Slowly, the world forgot she ever existed.
Brian chose the path of an idol.
The public loved him.
His natural build like his father and beauty from his mother, striking appearance, and haunting presence pulled people in. Every song he sang carried raw emotion, because he lived it. He wasn't acting pain. He knew it.
By the time his stepmother was released, Brian had become untouchable.
He was guarded. Protected. A successful actor, songwriter, and singer. Every release resonated deeply with his audience.
And still, he was his father's heir.
He didn't love the man. But his heart clung to him anyway. He was the only parent he had left.
Then the rumors exploded.
That Brian was a child born of forced intimacy. That his mother had "bitten the hand that fed her." That his existence was a stain.
The attacks came relentlessly.
They tried to destroy him, to corner him into a position where the escaped prisoner could finally take revenge and feel liberated.
Brian nearly broke.
His career wavered. His world cracked. He was terrified, not of losing fame, but of losing the one thing he loved: his work.
Then his father stood up.
The man who never cared about anything.
He confessed publicly to everything.
He admitted to forcing himself on Brian's mother. He admitted how she fought him. He admitted that his wife had ordered her death, and that she had escaped prison and was still hunting Brian.
He sacrificed his reputation without hesitation.
The news vanished.
Public sympathy surged.
Weeks later, his stepmother's body was found.
Some claimed Brian's fans did it to protect their idol, to atone for doubting him.
Others whispered that his father was responsible.
The truth was never confirmed.
Brian felt grateful.
His father knew how to use that gratitude.
He began to ask for favors.
And Brian more often than not, couldn't bring himself to refuse.