Inside Baby Samudra's room, the atmosphere that should have been peaceful after the baby's crying suddenly turned extremely tense.
Marcel stood ramrod straight, radiating the intimidating aura of a company's top executive.
His stern face immediately tightened as his gaze swept around the room and found no sign of his baby's nanny, Asilah.
Marcel's sharp eyes locked onto Mila.
His voice rose, heavy with dominance, as he said coldly,
"Where's the babysitter?!"
Mila, who was still trying to cover her exposed chest, nearly jumped out of her skin.
She answered in a trembling, nervous voice.
"I-I don't know, Mr. Marcel. When I came into this room because I heard Samudra crying, I didn't see anyone here. There was only Baby..."
Without waiting to hear another word, Marcel's pent-up anger from earlier that afternoon exploded.
Ignoring the fact that it was already two in the morning, he turned around and shouted for his baby's nanny.
His booming voice filled every corner of the magnificent house.
"ASILAH!"
The deafening shout instantly shattered the quiet of the night.
Baby Samudra, who had just begun to drift peacefully to sleep in Mila's warm embrace, was badly startled.
The tiny baby woke up, then began wailing hysterically again at the sound of his father's ear-splitting bellow.
Mila grew even more frantic.
She tried to calm Samudra down, gently stroking the baby's little back while whispering soothing words.
But Samudra only cried harder because of the emotional turmoil in the room.
Mila finally looked up, giving Marcel a disapproving look over his impulsive behavior.
"Mr. Marcel, please don't shout in here. The baby can't take it! Look, Baby Samudra is crying hard again," Mila gently admonished him.
She tried to make Marcel realize the harm his anger was causing.
But Marcel, the CEO who was accustomed to having his orders obeyed, had no intention of listening to a lecture from a strange woman.
"Why are you telling me what to do?!" Marcel cut in, his cold voice razor-sharp.
"This is my house. I can shout or turn somersaults if I want! You have no right to lecture me in my own home!"
Marcel's indifference to his baby's cries made Mila press a hand to her chest.
He stepped out of Baby Samudra's room again, stood in the hallway, and shouted once more like a man possessed.
"ASILAH! Where are you?!"
Seeing Marcel leave the room, Mila seized the opportunity.
Quickly, she rearranged the blanket and resumed nursing Baby Samudra so the tiny baby's cries would subside.
In this helpless and pressured situation, Mila's only focus was saving the physical and emotional well-being of the poor baby whose biological mother had just died.
Not long afterward, a young woman appeared, panting, from the direction of the stairs.
Asilah arrived carrying a freshly prepared bottle of formula and a can of powdered milk.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Marcel! Please forgive me!" Asilah broke down in tears, her body trembling as she faced her master's fury.
"I went downstairs to the kitchen because the hot-water supply in the room's sterilizer had run out. I hurried to prepare the formula, sir. I'm sorry for my carelessness..."
Asilah stood with her head bowed deeply before Marcel, squeezing the bottle in her hands as overwhelming guilt consumed her.
But cold-hearted Marcel refused to accept any excuse.
The commotion in the middle of the night had apparently awakened not only Baby Samudra but also Mr. Sony and Mrs. Sinta.
Marcel's parents hurried up the stairs and appeared in the hallway, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and worry.
"What's going on, Marcel? Why are you shouting in the middle of the night, my child?" Mrs. Sinta asked in confusion.
Marcel turned toward his mother and voiced his complaint with deep dissatisfaction.
"Mom, I seriously can't believe this careless babysitter... and that woman you picked up from the cemetery earlier!"
Mrs. Sinta furrowed her brow, growing even more confused.
"What do you mean, Marcel?"
With a sharp, emphatic tone, Marcel pointed toward his baby's room.
"Both of those women are leaving this house tomorrow morning! I don't want to see either of them here again. Asilah left Samudra alone in the room, while Mila... brazenly nursed my son without permission!"
At that revelation, Mrs. Sinta and Mr. Sony exchanged a glance.
They were deeply shocked, but not angry like Marcel. Instead, they were stunned as they imagined the complicated situation that had just unfolded.
"Wait, Marcel. Do you mean Mila nursed Samudra?" Mr. Sony asked to confirm, trying to find clarity amid the mounting tension.
Marcel let out a harsh breath.
"Yes, Dad! Mila nursed Samudra without anyone's permission! She just took over the role of a mother as she pleased, even though she's no one in this house!"
Rather than becoming angry, Mrs. Sinta's expression softened, revealing profound relief and gratitude.
"Isn't that a wonderful thing, Marcel? Your son was hungry and needed a mother's love. If Mila was willing to share her breast milk with Samudra, you should be grateful and thank her instead of getting worked up like this!"
Inside the room, Mila heard the argument and felt as though her heart were being torn apart.
After making sure Baby Samudra was calm and asleep in his crib, Mila stepped out of the room with her head lowered.
"I-I only wanted to calm Baby Samudra, Mr. Marcel," Mila replied softly, holding back the clear tears pooling in her eyes.
"I didn't mean to overstep anyone. Besides, I still produce breast milk because I only recently lost my baby... I just couldn't bear to hear Samudra crying so hard he could barely breathe."
But Marcel's stubbornness was not easily softened.
"That's no excuse for you to nurse my son whenever you please! You don't even have the right to touch him, let alone act as if you're his mother in this house!"