The Billionaire Fired His Housemaid for Putting His Son in a Cold Bath — Until the ER Doctor Handed Him the Lab Results

Marcus left Zion under the heavy, armed protection of the hospital's elite security team. He practically flew back to his sprawling luxury estate, his tailored light pink suit whipping in the wind.

He didn't pull into the main driveway. He parked his car blocks away and entered the mansion through the service entrance, moving with blinding, silent speed.

He walked up the grand staircase and approached the master suite—his private sanctuary. The door was slightly ajar.

Marcus crept forward, his reflection catching in the massive hallway mirrors. He looked into the room and saw Margaret. The fifty-year-old, "elite" nanny was frantically shoving expensive jewelry, thick stacks of cash from Marcus's safe, and several legal documents into a large leather duffel bag.

She wasn't just a murderer. She was a thief.

Marcus stepped fully into the doorway, completely blocking her only exit.

"Leaving so soon, Margaret?" Marcus asked, his voice echoing coldly against the high ceilings.

Margaret froze. She dropped a diamond necklace onto the hardwood floor, spinning around with wide, terrified eyes.

"Mr. Marcus!" Margaret gasped, frantically trying to plaster on a sweet, innocent, maternal smile. "I... I was just securing your valuables! With all the chaos of Zion's terrible illness, I wanted to make sure your safe was locked. How is the dear boy?"

"He's alive," Marcus stated, stepping into the room. "No thanks to you."

Margaret’s fake smile faltered. She took a step backward toward the balcony doors, her hands shaking. "I don't know what you mean, sir. I tried to help him! That crazy maid pushed me out of the way!"

"The maid saved his life," Marcus growled, his dark eyes locking onto the legal documents sticking out of the duffel bag.