Victoria Sterling sat in her sleek, minimalist cabin, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city skyline. The room was a testament to modern luxury, yet its cold, impersonal decor mirrored its owner's demeanor. At 28, Victoria had already built an empire, her company the pinnacle of success in its field.

She wore a perfectly tailored suit, the sharp lines accentuating her commanding presence. Her long coat hung from her shoulders, adding an extra layer of authority to her already formidable appearance. Every detail of her attire was meticulously chosen, down to the stilettos that clicked ominously against the polished floor as she moved.

Victoria's eyes, a piercing shade of blue, scanned through the files on her desk with surgical precision. Her face remained an impassive mask, revealing nothing of the storm of thoughts whirling in her mind. Emotions were a foreign concept to her, something she had long since discarded in favor of relentless ambition. People were tools, assets to be managed, and she connected with them only insofar as they were useful to her goals.

The air in the room seemed to chill whenever she focused those icy eyes on someone, her expressions alone enough to cut down any opposition. Her reputation for being able to 'kill with a look' was not an exaggeration; subordinates and rivals alike wilted under her gaze.

The only sound was the rustle of papers and the soft hum of the city below, both of which Victoria drowned out, lost in her world of strategic decisions and calculated risks. She preferred it this way, her work a fortress against the messy unpredictability of human emotions.

She paused for a moment, her cold, calculating eyes glancing at the clock on the wall. The hands pointed to 12.

Her expression remained impassive as she methodically packed her laptop and organized the remaining documents. Each movement was precise and deliberate, reflecting her no-nonsense attitude. Victoria stood and walked to the door, her footsteps echoing softly in the stillness of the cabin.

The night air was crisp and cool as she stepped outside, but it did nothing to soften her demeanor. The parking lot was empty and silent, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the distance. Her gaze, sharp and unyielding, scanned the area as she made her way to her car.

Her luxurious vehicle sat under the dim light of the overhead lamps, its sleek lines a mirror of her own composed exterior. She unlocked the car with a swift motion, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The car roared to life, its powerful hum a stark contrast to the surrounding silence.

Victoria's eyes, hard and unfeeling, stared straight ahead as she drove off.

______________________________________________

Victoria pulled up to the gates of her sprawling estate, her car's headlights cutting through the darkness. She pressed a button, and the gates swung open silently. Driving up the long, tree-lined driveway, she felt the familiar sense of isolation that came with her home. She preferred it that way—no distractions, no idle chatter.

As she parked and stepped out of the car, she noticed something unusual. Her maids and butlers were gathered near the entrance, their expressions anxious and uncertain. It was against her strict rules for any staff to be visible when she arrived home.

Her eyes narrowed, and she approached them with her characteristic deadly glare. "Did you all forget the rules?" she asked coldly, her voice slicing through the tension like a knife.

The staff exchanged nervous glances until one maid, slightly trembling, stepped forward. She held out a letter with both hands, her eyes avoiding Victoria's piercing gaze. "This arrived for you, ma'am," the maid said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Victoria took the letter without a word, her expression unchanging. She dismissed the staff with a curt nod, and they quickly dispersed, eager to escape her presence. Alone once more, she examined the letter, noting the fine quality of the paper and the unfamiliar handwriting on the envelope.

Without hesitation, she tore it open, eager to discover what had disrupted her meticulously ordered world.

Victoria stood in the grand foyer of her mansion, the letter held tightly in her hand. She unfolded it with a deliberate motion, her eyes scanning the neatly written words. There was no name, just a chilling message:

"I am leaving my child in front of your door. I cannot take care of her any longer due to my poverty. She has been a burden to me. I wanted to abort her, but the doctors refused. I had no choice but to deliver her. I am leaving her with you because I believe some rich people will adopt her, and she will have a great future. The baby is a girl."

Victoria's grip on the letter tightened, her knuckles turning white. Fury boiled inside her, and she cursed the mother under her breath. "How dare she..." she muttered, her voice low and venomous.

She turned sharply on her heel and strode into the living room. There, on the plush leather sofa, lay a tiny baby girl, swaddled in a thin blanket. The child was quiet, her wide eyes staring up at the grand ceiling, unaware of the chaos surrounding her arrival.

Victoria stood over the baby, her anger momentarily faltering as she looked at the innocent face. She felt a mixture of rage and reluctant responsibility. "What am I supposed to do with you?" she whispered, her voice colder than the night air outside.

The baby blinked up at her, unfazed by Victoria's icy demeanor. Victoria sighed deeply, her mind already racing through the possible solutions. She couldn't simply leave the child unattended, but the idea of caring for someone else's unwanted burden filled her with disdain.

With a final, exasperated glance at the letter, she made a decision. "I'll find someone to take care of you," she said, more to herself than to the baby. "But first, I'll make sure you're safe." She picked up the child carefully, her movements precise and controlled, and carried her deeper into the house.

____________________________________________

Victoria carried the 7-month-old baby girl to a spare room, gently placing her on the bed. She arranged pillows around the baby, ensuring she wouldn't roll off. Just as she turned to leave, the baby began to cry, her wails piercing the quiet night.

Victoria’s icy demeanor cracked slightly as she walked back to the baby's side. "What is it now?" she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. She leaned down, her face close to the baby’s. "Sleep," she commanded, her tone a mixture of frustration and firmness.

The baby continued to cry, her tiny fists waving in the air. Victoria sighed, her patience wearing thin. "Don’t you know how to sleep on your own?" she asked, though she knew the baby couldn't understand. "You're making this harder than it needs to be."

She pulled out her phone and quickly searched for how to put a baby to sleep. The results advised picking up and cradling the child. Reluctantly, Victoria scooped the baby into her arms, her movements stiff and unsure. She swayed gently, rocking the baby until the cries softened and finally ceased. Carefully, she placed the baby back on the bed.

A sudden thought struck her, and she quickly searched whether it was safe for a baby to sleep alone in a room. The answer was a resounding no—it was risky. Victoria paused, considering her options. Her usual decisiveness faltered as she looked at the tiny, helpless figure on the bed.

"Of course, it’s risky," she muttered, frustration edging her voice. "Nothing about this situation is convenient." She looked down at the baby, who was now staring up at her with wide, curious eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t ask for this either."

With a resigned sigh, she picked up the baby again and headed to her own room. She placed the baby on her bed, surrounding her with pillows for safety. Victoria changed out of her formal clothes and into a night suit, her movements mechanical and efficient. She then slipped into bed beside the baby, her body stiff with unfamiliarity.

"Listen," she said, looking at the baby, who seemed to be on the verge of tears again. "You need to sleep, alright? I have a lot of work to do tomorrow." The baby gurgled, her tiny hand reaching out towards Victoria’s face.

Victoria’s cold exterior softened, just a fraction, as she watched the baby. "You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?" she whispered. "You didn’t ask for this either." She sighed deeply, feeling an unaccustomed pang of empathy. "I guess we’re stuck with each other for now."

As she lay there, the baby nestled close, Victoria stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She had never imagined herself in such a situation, yet here she was, sharing her bed with a child she had no intention of caring for. The baby's soft, steady breathing eventually lulled her into a restless sleep, her thoughts a tumultuous storm of confusion and reluctant acceptance.

Victoria stirred, the morning light filtering softly through the elegant drapes of her bedroom. As her eyes fluttered open, she turned and saw the baby lying beside her, wide awake and smiling.

"Morning," Victoria said, her voice devoid of warmth. She slipped out of bed, leaving the baby cooing happily, and made her way to the bathroom. Her routine was meticulous, each step measured and efficient. After dressing in a crisp, tailored suit, she descended the grand staircase.

At the bottom, she encountered the maid. "Feed the baby," Victoria instructed coolly, not breaking stride as she headed to the dining room. She sat at the head of the long table, a solitary figure amidst the vastness, and began her breakfast.

The doorbell rang, breaking the silence. The butler, ever prompt, answered and ushered in Victoria's five friends. They bustled into the room, their energy a stark contrast to Victoria's icy demeanor.

"Victoria, darling!" exclaimed the first, a woman with a perpetual smile. "Come have coffee with us today!"

Before Victoria could respond, a baby’s cry pierced the air. The friends exchanged bewildered glances.

"Was that a baby?" one of them asked, eyes wide.

"In your house, Victoria?" another chimed in, barely suppressing a giggle.

"Whose baby is it?" a third asked, their tone dripping with incredulity.

Victoria looked at them, her expression unchanged. "Mine," she said flatly.

"You...have a baby?" one friend stammered, still processing the information.

"Did you steal it?" another joked, earning a few nervous laughs.

"Is it a robot baby?" the fifth asked, looking genuinely curious.

Victoria sighed, placing her fork down. "No, I did not steal it. No, it is not a robot. Yes, I have a baby. Now, if you're done with your ridiculous questions, can we move on?"

The friends exchanged glances, then broke into laughter. Despite their silliness, they seemed to understand and accept this new reality in Victoria's life, even if she herself did not fully embrace it.

“So, how did this happen?” asked Mia, the most outspoken of the group. “Her mother left her at my door. I guess she thought I could handle it.”

“Handle it?” exclaimed Sarah, shaking her head. “What kind of mother just leaves her baby?”

“I don’t know,” Victoria replied coolly. “But it happened, and now I have to deal with it.”

The friends exchanged glances, their outrage simmering beneath the surface. “You can’t just let the baby go to someone else,” Jenna said, folding her arms. “What if she ends up in a bad situation?”

Victoria raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking of finding someone who actually wants a baby.”

"That's not how it works," Mia insisted. "You can’t just throw her away like some unwanted item!"

“I’m not throwing her away!” Victoria snapped, her cool facade cracking for a moment. “I just don’t know what else to do. This isn’t a life I planned.”

“But you can’t just abandon her,” Sarah chimed in, her tone softening. “She’s not useless. She deserves a chance.”

Victoria leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms. “What do you expect me to do? I can’t take care of a baby.”

“Of course you can!” Mia argued. “You’re capable. You just need to give it a chance.”

There was a pause, and the weight of their words hung in the air. Victoria sighed, her expression unreadable. “Fine. I’ll keep the baby,” she finally said, her voice quiet.

The friends brightened at her admission. “Yes! That’s great!” Mia exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We’ll help you. You’re not alone in this.”

“Can we see her?” Jenna asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I mean, I want to meet her!”

Victoria hesitated, her instinct to shield her emotions surfacing. “Why?” she asked, her tone still guarded.

“Because,” Sarah said gently, stepping closer. “She’s a part of your life now. We just want to make sure she’s okay. Plus, we can help you figure things out.”

With a reluctant sigh, Victoria nodded. “Okay. But don’t expect me to coddle her.”

As they entered the room, the baby looked up at them, her big eyes wide with innocence. The friends gathered around the bassinet, their earlier anger dissipating into soft laughter and coos.

“She’s beautiful,” Mia said, bending down to get a closer look. “What’s her name?”

“I haven’t named her,” Victoria admitted, watching them. “I wasn’t planning to keep her.”

“Well, we should give her a name!” Jenna suggested, her eyes sparkling. “How about something cute? Like Daisy?”

“Or maybe Luna?” Sarah added, her excitement growing. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Victoria watched her friends with a mix of annoyance and gratitude. Despite her cold exterior, a flicker of warmth sparked inside her. “Maybe,” she said, her voice softening. “But it’s my decision.”

“Of course,” Mia said, smiling. “But we’re here for you, Victoria. We can help. We’ll figure this out together.”

As the friends continued to fuss over the baby, Victoria felt an unexpected weight lifting. Perhaps, with their help, she could navigate this new chapter of her life after all.