From maid to master chef the billionaires regret

On her knees, six months pregnant, Elena Reyes scrubbed champagne stains off the marble floor while laughter floated above her like poison. The guests weren’t even trying to hide it anymore. A sharp laugh cut through the ballroom. Another followed. She kept scrubbing. Above her, the Laurent mansion shimmered under crystal chandeliers, every surface glowing gold and perfection. Women in designer gowns drifted past like they belonged in another world entirely. Waiters moved through them with silver trays of champagne she would never afford in ten lifetimes. And tonight, that world was celebrating the return of its heir. Dominic Laurent. The father of her child. A sudden kick pressed hard against her ribs. Elena froze, one hand dropping instinctively to her swollen stomach beneath her plain black uniform. “It’s okay,” she whispered under her breath. “We’re almost done here.” “Stop daydreaming and clean properly.” The voice sliced through her like ice. Mrs. Laurent stood above her in emerald silk and diamonds, gaze sharp enough to cut skin. Elena lowered her eyes and resumed scrubbing. “You should be grateful I even allowed you to stay here,” the older woman continued, voice low but venomous. “A shameless girl like you doesn’t belong in this house. Or this family’s air.” Elena said nothing. She had stopped defending herself weeks ago. Gold digger. Liar. w***e. The words had become background noise. Because none of them mattered. Not when the only person who could confirm the truth had been overseas for months. Tonight, that would end. Tonight, Dominic Laurent would see her and agree to a DNA test. That was all she wanted. Not money. Not marriage. Not even his love. Just acknowledgement. Her hand tightened slightly on the mop. For the child. Because this baby deserved a name. A father. Even if she got nothing else. “Mrs. Laurent,” a servant hurried in, breathless. “Mr. Laurent’s car has entered the gates.” The ballroom shifted instantly. Whispers spread like wildfire. “He’s here.” “I heard he closed a major deal in Europe.” Elena’s stomach tightened. This was it. “Get up,” Mrs. Laurent ordered sharply. “Stand with the servants. Speak only if spoken to. And if you embarrass this family tonight…” Her eyes narrowed. “You will regret it.” Elena slowly rose. Her back ached. Her hands trembled slightly as she smoothed down her uniform. She had replayed this moment in her mind too many times. The last time she saw him, everything had been noise and heat and flashing lights. A club. Too loud. Too bright. A stranger with cold grey eyes watching her from across the bar like she was something he hadn’t decided to hate yet. Then the spill. Champagne tipping from her shaking hands onto his expensive shirt. The way silence had fallen instantly. The way he had looked at her. Not just angry. Interested. Dangerously so. And then later… one reckless night she still couldn’t fully erase from her memory. By morning, he was gone. Only money left on the hotel table. Like she had been part of the transaction. Elena swallowed hard and forced the memory down. Footsteps echoed at the grand staircase. The room shifted. He appeared. Dominic Laurent descended slowly, black tailored suit perfect, expression unreadable. Cameras flashed at the entrance, but he didn’t react. He never seemed to react to anything. Like the world existed beneath him. And then she saw her. The woman beside him. Elegant. Beautiful. Smiling as she held his arm like she belonged there. Fiancée. Something sharp twisted in Elena’s chest before she could stop it. She looked away quickly. “Smile,” a maid whispered beside her. “Your billionaire is back.” Elena didn’t respond. Servants lined up to greet the guests. Her heartbeat grew louder. Dominic’s gaze swept the room lazily. Until it stopped directly on her and her round stomach. His face changed . Slowly, his eyes lifted and met hers. Recognition hit him instantly. “You.” The word was quiet. But it echoed in the room. Elena went still. Mrs. Laurent stepped forward immediately. “Dominic, darling—” “What is she doing here?” he cut in coldly. His fiancée frowned. “You know her?” Elena opened her mouth. Nothing came out. All the nights she had rehearsed this moment vanished completely. Dominic’s eyes narrowed slightly as they scanned her again. Then he gave a short, humorless laugh. “She worked at a club,” he said flatly. “I paid her for her services. .” Then the room exploded in gasps and mummers. “Paid her?” “Oh my God…” “Was she—?” Elena felt the ground tilt beneath her. Heat rushed to her face, Mrs. Laurent’s expression tightened. “Dominic. Not here.” But his fiancée was already staring at Elena’s stomach. Then she smiled. And asked the question that shattered everything. “Wait…” Her voice was soft, but her eyes betrayed her disgust “Are you saying this woman is claiming that baby is yours?”