Chapter 1: The Contract
I signed a surrogacy contract with Dominic Ashford. Three million dollars for my womb. No name. No rights. No dignity.
I did it to save my brother's life. Dominic did it because his childhood sweetheart couldn't carry children.
What none of them knew was that I wasn't some nobody off the street. I was Vivienne Laurent — the faceless billionaire behind Ashford Group's entire fortune.
And the woman he worshipped? She was the one who'd stolen my identity ten years ago.
"Surrogate 0517, the Young Master wants you in his room tonight."
The housekeeper didn't look at me. She never did. None of them did.
I pulled the hospital-grade gown tighter around my body and followed her down the marble hallway of the Ashford estate.
Dominic sat on the edge of his bed, still in his suit, scrolling through his phone. He didn't look up when I walked in.
"Lie down," he said. The same way you'd tell a dog to sit.
I lay on the cold sheets and stared at the ceiling. He set a timer on his phone. Fifteen minutes. That's how long he gave himself to do this.
He never kissed me. Never spoke. Never looked at my face.
When the timer went off, he pulled away and headed straight to the bathroom. The shower turned on immediately.
Through the door, I heard him on the phone. His voice transformed completely — warm, almost boyish.
"Sera, I'm sorry. It's done. Just a few more weeks and we'll have our baby. I'll never touch her again after that. You're the only one I love."
Seraphina Cole. His childhood sweetheart. The woman with my face, my name, and my stolen life.
I pressed my palm flat against my stomach and swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
The housekeeper returned with a tray. Prenatal vitamins, folic acid, and a glass of something murky and bitter.
"Miss Cole prepared this herself," she said with a tight smile. "For the baby's health."
I looked at the dark liquid. My training kicked in — three years of biochemistry at Laurent Medical Institute. I could smell the ashwagandha. The black cohosh. And underneath it all, something sharper. Something wrong.
Mifepristone. Crushed so fine it was nearly undetectable.
Seraphina was trying to make sure I'd never carry this baby to term.
I lifted the glass to my lips and pretended to drink. The moment the housekeeper turned her back, I spat it into the napkin.
That night, I sat on the bathroom floor with a burner phone, pulling up Ashford Group's stock reports.
The AI trading algorithm I'd built six years ago was still running behind the scenes. Every quarter, it generated roughly four hundred million in profit for the company.
Nobody knew it was mine.
Nobody knew the "ghost investor" propping up their empire had been sleeping in their guest wing, swallowing their poison, and spreading her legs on command.
A message came through from my brother's doctor: *Surgery scheduled for next month. Deposit received.*
I closed my eyes. One more month. That's all I needed.
One more month of being Surrogate 0517. One more month of Dominic's cold timer and Seraphina's sweet poison.
Then I would burn their perfect little world to the ground — and take back everything that was mine.
---
I did it to save my brother's life. Dominic did it because his childhood sweetheart couldn't carry children.
What none of them knew was that I wasn't some nobody off the street. I was Vivienne Laurent — the faceless billionaire behind Ashford Group's entire fortune.
And the woman he worshipped? She was the one who'd stolen my identity ten years ago.
"Surrogate 0517, the Young Master wants you in his room tonight."
The housekeeper didn't look at me. She never did. None of them did.
I pulled the hospital-grade gown tighter around my body and followed her down the marble hallway of the Ashford estate.
Dominic sat on the edge of his bed, still in his suit, scrolling through his phone. He didn't look up when I walked in.
"Lie down," he said. The same way you'd tell a dog to sit.
I lay on the cold sheets and stared at the ceiling. He set a timer on his phone. Fifteen minutes. That's how long he gave himself to do this.
He never kissed me. Never spoke. Never looked at my face.
When the timer went off, he pulled away and headed straight to the bathroom. The shower turned on immediately.
Through the door, I heard him on the phone. His voice transformed completely — warm, almost boyish.
"Sera, I'm sorry. It's done. Just a few more weeks and we'll have our baby. I'll never touch her again after that. You're the only one I love."
Seraphina Cole. His childhood sweetheart. The woman with my face, my name, and my stolen life.
I pressed my palm flat against my stomach and swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
The housekeeper returned with a tray. Prenatal vitamins, folic acid, and a glass of something murky and bitter.
"Miss Cole prepared this herself," she said with a tight smile. "For the baby's health."
I looked at the dark liquid. My training kicked in — three years of biochemistry at Laurent Medical Institute. I could smell the ashwagandha. The black cohosh. And underneath it all, something sharper. Something wrong.
Mifepristone. Crushed so fine it was nearly undetectable.
Seraphina was trying to make sure I'd never carry this baby to term.
I lifted the glass to my lips and pretended to drink. The moment the housekeeper turned her back, I spat it into the napkin.
That night, I sat on the bathroom floor with a burner phone, pulling up Ashford Group's stock reports.
The AI trading algorithm I'd built six years ago was still running behind the scenes. Every quarter, it generated roughly four hundred million in profit for the company.
Nobody knew it was mine.
Nobody knew the "ghost investor" propping up their empire had been sleeping in their guest wing, swallowing their poison, and spreading her legs on command.
A message came through from my brother's doctor: *Surgery scheduled for next month. Deposit received.*
I closed my eyes. One more month. That's all I needed.
One more month of being Surrogate 0517. One more month of Dominic's cold timer and Seraphina's sweet poison.
Then I would burn their perfect little world to the ground — and take back everything that was mine.
---