— “Stop making a scene! Your father will come home and see what kind of child you really are!”

The angry voice echoed from the second floor of the mansion.
Standing by the back door, Valentina froze. She could hear a child crying — a desperate, frightened cry that tore through the silence.

Then came another shout:
— “No one can stand you anymore! Stay there and cry until you learn!”

A door slammed upstairs.

— “Oh, what a mess,” murmured Carmen, the older housemaid, who had just welcomed Valentina.
— “The mistress is upset again.”
— “Which mistress?” asked Valentina, uneasy.
— “Mrs. Fabiana — the girl’s stepmother.”

The child’s cries echoed through the halls again.
— “And where’s the father?”
Carmen sighed.
— “Traveling. Always traveling. Poor little thing… And listen, dear — this job isn’t easy.”

But Valentina didn’t hesitate.
She dropped her cleaning bag and ran up the stairs, following the sound of the sobs.

At the end of the hallway, a blonde, elegant woman stepped out of a bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Her perfume filled the air, masking the bitterness in her expression.

— “You must be the new maid,” said Fabiana, fixing her hair with an artificial smile.
— “Good. I have to go out. The girl’s throwing another tantrum. When she calms down, you can start cleaning.”

— “Is she alright?” Valentina asked cautiously.
— “Of course,” Fabiana replied dryly. “She just loves to make a scene.”

Without another word, Fabiana hurried down the stairs, grabbed her purse, and left the house.
The only sound left was the faint, heartbreaking cry coming from the closed door.

Valentina walked toward it and knocked gently.
— “Hey, sweetheart… can I come in?”

The crying softened.
— “I won’t scold you, I promise,” Valentina whispered kindly.

She opened the door slowly.

Inside, a little girl with brown hair sat on the floor, hugging her knees.
Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes swollen from crying.

— “Hi, beautiful… what’s your name?”
The girl hesitated.
— “Melissa.”
— “Melissa… that’s such a lovely name. I’m Tina. Why were you crying?”
Melissa pointed to her stomach.
— “It hurts.”
— “Are you hungry?”

The little girl nodded.

Valentina looked around. The room was bare — a messy bed, a broken doll, and no food in sight.

She hurried to the kitchen, poured a glass of milk, grabbed a few cookies, and returned.
Melissa ate slowly, cautiously, as if she were afraid of being punished.
Valentina sat beside her, gently stroking her hair.

— “It’s okay now, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

Then, suddenly, the front door burst open.
A tall man in a dark suit appeared — his expression tense, tired, but commanding.
It was the father. The millionaire.

— “What’s going on here?” asked Leonardo, surprised to find the new maid in his daughter’s room.

Before Valentina could speak, Melissa ran and hid behind her, clutching her skirt.
The man froze.

— “Melissa?” he whispered, his voice cracking.
The girl trembled, refusing to come out from behind Valentina.

Valentina straightened up and met his eyes.
— “She was hungry. And alone. I don’t know what her stepmother does when you’re away, but…”

Leonardo looked stunned.
— “Fabiana told me she was fine.”
— “She’s not,” Valentina said firmly.
— “And from what I’ve seen, she hasn’t been fine for a long time.”

Leonardo knelt down in front of his daughter.
— “My love… is that true?”

Melissa nodded through her tears and threw her arms around his neck.
And in that single embrace, the truth he had ignored for so long finally broke through.

Days later, Fabiana was gone — banished from the mansion after Leonardo learned what she had done.
Valentina, however, stayed.
Not just as a maid, but as a protector — and, in time, as part of the family.

And every time little Melissa smiled and called her “Aunt Tina,” Leonardo remembered the day he met the woman who had more kindness in her heart than all the riches he owned.