Anna lifted her eyes, locking them on Isabella Whitman's with steady focus, her breathing slow and controlled.

“Mrs. Whitman, he only calms down in my arms. Never before, never with anyone else. He needs care, not indifference,” she replied, her voice firm despite the nervous tightness in her chest.

Liam, however, continued to thrash, his tiny hands flailing, his mouth open in a desperate cry that seemed to pierce through every corner of the Whitman estate. Every movement was a silent plea for protection—one Anna could not ignore.

She leaned closer, hugging him tighter, whispering soft words. “Shhh… I’m here, my little one. No one will hurt you.”

Isabella stood with her arms crossed, her expression rigid. Yet Anna noticed something in her eyes: a flicker of doubt.

Even in her anger, Isabella could not deny it—Liam wouldn’t settle in anyone else’s arms. And Anna was the only one who could calm him.

Then the nursery door clicked open and Daniel Whitman stepped inside.

His gaze swept over the scene instantly: Anna holding Liam, the baby finally easing in her arms, and Isabella standing at a distance, a mix of fury and worry etched on her face.

“What’s going on here?” Daniel’s voice was firm but edged with surprise. He approached quickly, eyes scanning every detail.

Anna drew a deep breath, holding Liam close. “Mr. Whitman… something was wrong with the crib. Metal pins were found—and he only calms in my arms,” she said, her eyes sincere, her voice a blend of fear and determination.

Daniel furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes. “Metal pins?” He looked at Isabella, seeking an explanation. “Is this true, Isabella?”

Isabella averted her gaze, anger visible, but the first hints of embarrassment began to surface.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about… Anna is exaggerating!” she stammered, voice trembling as she tried to maintain control. Her rigid posture, however, betrayed her discomfort.

Liam hiccupped softly in Anna’s arms, his breathing more regular, and Daniel observed closely. Doubt replaced his initial disbelief.

He realized that his son trusted only Anna. Every movement she made calmed Liam instantly. And that fact could not be ignored.

Daniel stepped closer, eyes fixed on Anna. “Show me.”

Anna nodded carefully, keeping Liam secure, and pointed to the now-empty mattress, the pins scattered on the floor. Each one caught the light from the chandelier, a silent warning of the intended harm.

Daniel crouched, inspecting every detail, his mind racing. “How did this happen? Who could have access to this room?” he muttered to himself, concern etched across his face.

Isabella still stood by the doorway, drawing in deep breaths, trying to project control, yet Anna noticed the faint tremor in her hands. Doubt. Fear. Perhaps guilt—though Isabella would never admit it aloud.

“This is unacceptable,” Daniel finally said, his voice firm and authoritative. He stood tall, filling the room with his presence and imposing a new, silent order.

“Anna… you did the right thing. He is safe in your arms, and it stays that way. No one approaches the crib without you.”

Isabella’s eyes widened, her face pale. “What? You’re… choosing this maid over me?”

Daniel ignored the provocation, looking directly at Anna. “Yes. Until this situation is fully resolved, Anna is the only one responsible for our son. Understood?”

Anna felt a shiver run down her spine. The fear she had felt moments ago began to transform into a strange mix of relief and respect. For the first time, the billionaire recognized her as capable of protecting his child—and that meant more than any promised raise could ever offer.

Isabella did not move. Shock was visible, but her anger still simmered through every muscle. She would not let this go easily, and now that Daniel acknowledged Anna’s value, the conflict would only intensify.

Liam settled more against Anna’s shoulder, each hiccup slowing, each breath more even. Anna looked at him, then at Daniel. “He trusts me,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “He only wants me here.”

Daniel nodded slowly, absorbing every word. Finally, he understood that his son’s safety and well-being did not depend on wealth, luxury, or appearances—it depended on who truly cared for him.

Isabella finally drew a deep breath, attempting to mask the frustration burning inside.

“This isn’t over…” she said, her voice low but cutting. “You’ll regret this, Anna.”

Anna simply lifted her eyes, steady. “As long as I’m here, Liam is safe. No one will hurt him.”

Isabella, still at the door, exuded anger and jealousy but dared not contradict Daniel. Deep down, she knew that at this moment, Anna had earned something no wealth could buy: the trust of the billionaire’s son—and Daniel Whitman’s own recognition and respect.

Anna exhaled, looking at Liam, now more relaxed, and whispered softly, “It’s okay, my little one. I’m here, and no one will hurt you while I’m around.”