The billionaire had only three months left to spend with his little daughter—until the new nanny noticed something no one else had… No one at the Wakefield estate said it out loud, but the truth was in every corner. Little Luna Wakefield was slowly passing away. The doctors delivered their verdict without emotion, in a calm and final voice: three months. Maybe even less. A countdown that no one could stop. And Richard Wakefield—a billionaire, a corporate giant, a man accustomed to bending reality with money and influence—suddenly found himself powerless, looking at his daughter and realizing that money would no longer help him.
The mansion was enormous, immaculate, and painfully quiet. Not a peaceful silence, but a heavy, grief-stained one. It clung to the walls, followed every step, and hung over the table during dinner. Richard spared neither money nor effort. The best doctors, state-of-the-art equipment, rotating nurses, therapy animals, soft music, bedtime stories, toys from abroad, fresh blankets, walls painted Luna’s favorite color. Everything was perfect… Except Luna herself. Her gaze slid past people, unfocused, as if observing life from afar.
After his wife’s death, Richard ceased to be the man depicted on magazine covers. Meetings went unattended, calls went unanswered, the empire faded into the background. But Luna couldn’t stop. His days became routine: rising before dawn, preparing food she barely ate, writing down medications, recording every change: every breath, every blink—hoping the recordings would slow down time. Luna barely spoke. Sometimes she nodded. Sometimes she didn’t respond at all. She spent hours by the window, gazing at the sun as if it were from another world. Richard still spoke to her. He told stories, reminisced about vacations, made promises he himself doubted. But between them remained an empty space—painful, unattainable.
Then Julia Bennett appeared, and suddenly…
