The air in the room felt suffocating.

I sat stiffly on the couch, hands curled into my lap as Ezra lounged in the leather chair across from me, his posture effortless yet exuding the same intimidating authority he always carried. The morning light filtered through the tall windows of his study, casting golden hues across the dark wooden shelves lined with books and files.

Everything about this place screamed power, just like the man sitting before me.

I swallowed hard.

The interrogation had ended—or at least, I thought it had—until he dismissed me with an abrupt, "Stay here," and walked out of the guest room earlier.

Now, here I was again, trapped under the weight of his gaze, knowing he had something else to say. Something worse.

I didn't know why my stomach twisted with unease, but it did.

Ezra leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His piercing eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unwavering.

"Let’s talk business."

I blinked. "What?"

His expression didn’t change.

"You need money. I need an heir. Let’s make a deal."

Silence.

My fingers gripped the fabric of the pants Mrs. Martin had given me. My mind stuttered over his words, trying to piece them together in a way that made sense.

An heir?

A deal?

I wet my lips, confusion lacing my voice. "I don’t understand."

Ezra’s gaze darkened with impatience. "You will."

He pushed a thick envelope across the coffee table toward me. I hesitated before picking it up, my fingers trembling slightly as I pulled out a set of crisp documents. The pages were filled with legal jargon—clauses, stipulations, signatures—but my eyes landed on one line, bold and clear.

Marriage and Surrogacy Contract.

The words blurred before refocusing, as if my brain refused to process them.

"You want me to—" I stopped, my throat suddenly dry. "To have your child?"

"Yes."

The casual way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. As if it were as simple as signing a contract, as if it didn’t involve something life-altering.

I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. "You can’t be serious."

His jaw ticked. "Do I look like a man who jokes?"

No.

He didn’t.

I placed the papers on my lap, my hands shaking as I flipped through them. Each section was coldly detailed, outlining my obligations and his.

A legal marriage.

Bearing his child.

Divorce after the heir was born.

In return, I would be financially compensated beyond anything I had ever dreamed of. A secured future. Every expense covered. Comfort, luxury—everything I never had.

But at what cost?

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Why?"

Ezra leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose as if he had expected this question. "That’s none of your concern."

A flash of irritation flared in my chest. "It is my concern. You’re asking me to carry a child—a life. I deserve to know why you’re doing this."

His eyes narrowed. "I need an heir. That’s all you need to know."

I frowned. His tone was clipped, hiding something beneath the surface, but I knew better than to push.

"So, that’s it?" My voice came out quieter than I intended. "You want a child, but you don’t want a family?"

Ezra’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes cold and detached. "I don’t have time for a family. I need an heir to secure my legacy. Nothing more."

My stomach twisted.

It shouldn’t have affected me, yet it did. The idea of bringing a child into the world purely as a transaction—it made my chest ache.

"And the mother?" I forced myself to ask.

"You’ll be well taken care of. Every medical expense, every need—met without question. Once the child is born, you’ll be free to leave with more money than you could ever earn in a lifetime."

My fingers tightened around the paper. "And if I say no?"

Ezra’s gaze sharpened. "Then you walk out of here with nothing."

His words weren’t cruel, but they weren’t kind either. Just cold, factual.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

A part of me screamed to leave—to run as far away from this impossible deal as I could.

But another part of me hesitated.

I had nothing. No home, no job, no security.

This man—this arrogant, unreadable stranger—was offering me a future.

At the cost of my body.

At the cost of my freedom.

"Why me?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

Ezra’s lips pressed into a thin line. "You were in my car at the right time."

I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of it.

"So, I was convenient?"

"Precisely."

His lack of hesitation stung more than it should have.

I looked down at the contract again, my eyes scanning the words even though my mind was still reeling. The rational part of me told me this was insane, that no amount of money was worth this.

But the desperate part of me—the part that had spent the last few weeks wondering where my next meal would come from—was tempted.

More than tempted.

Ezra stood, straightening his cuffs with effortless grace. "You don’t have to answer now."

I lifted my head, my heart thudding.

"You have 24 hours," he said, his voice even, unwavering. "Decide by then, or the offer is off the table."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone in his world of luxury and impossible choices.

I stared down at the contract in my hands.

And for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do.

---

Dinner was an elegant affair, but the air between us was thick with unspoken tension. I sat across from Ezra in the vast dining hall, my fingers curled around the silverware, barely lifting a bite to my lips. The glint of the chandelier above cast a golden glow over the long mahogany table, making everything seem surreal—like I had stepped into a life that wasn’t mine.

Ezra, on the other hand, was unaffected. He ate with deliberate precision, every movement fluid, controlled. He hadn’t spoken much since we sat down, but the weight of his gaze as he occasionally looked at me was impossible to ignore.

I knew why we were here.

I knew what he was expecting.

And yet, my stomach coiled with unease.

I placed my fork down carefully and exhaled slowly. “I’ve thought about your offer.”

Ezra looked up, his sharp gaze pinning me in place. He didn’t rush me, didn’t demand a response. He simply waited.

I swallowed hard. “I’ll do it.”

The words came out quieter than I intended, but they were firm.

Ezra’s expression didn’t shift immediately. His fingers tapped against the crystal glass beside his plate, his head tilting slightly as if gauging my resolve.

“You’re sure?” His voice was measured, unreadable.

I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Yes.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Ezra set his utensils down and leaned back in his chair, observing me. “You understand what this means, don’t you?”

I nodded, though the truth was—I wasn’t sure I fully did.

I understood the logistics: marriage, pregnancy, divorce. A contract that ensured I would be taken care of, that money would never be an issue again. But the reality of what I had just agreed to settled like a heavy stone in my chest.

“Good,” Ezra finally said, picking up his napkin and dabbing the corner of his mouth before discarding it. “We’ll begin the preparations immediately.”

A lump formed in my throat. “What kind of preparations?”

His eyes darkened slightly. “A medical evaluation, for starters. I need to ensure you’re capable of carrying my child.”

The bluntness of his words sent a chill down my spine.

Capable.

Like I was nothing more than a vessel.

I clenched my fists under the table, ignoring the sting of humiliation. I had agreed to this. I couldn’t let my emotions dictate my actions now.

“When?” I asked.

Ezra took a sip of his wine before answering. “Tomorrow.”

I blinked. “That soon?”

“I don’t waste time, Halena.”

His tone was final, a clear indication that there would be no room for delay.

I inhaled deeply, my fingers tightening around my lap. “Alright.”

Ezra studied me for another moment before giving a slight nod. “Finish your meal.”

I wasn’t sure I could stomach another bite, but I forced myself to eat, knowing I would need the strength for whatever came next.

---

The Next Morning

The car ride to the doctor’s office was silent.

Ezra sat beside me, his attention fixed on his phone, fingers gliding over the screen with effortless efficiency. He hadn’t spoken much since last night, but his presence alone was overwhelming.

I fidgeted with the hem of my dress, my nerves tightening as we pulled up to an upscale medical facility. The exterior was sleek, modern—nothing like the run-down clinics I had been forced to visit in the past.

Ezra exited the car first, his long strides carrying him forward without hesitation. I hurried to keep up, my heart pounding as we entered the pristine lobby.

A receptionist greeted us with a warm smile. “Mr. Knight, Dr. Langley is expecting you.”

Ezra nodded, placing a hand on the small of my back as he guided me forward. The touch was brief, impersonal, but it sent a jolt through my spine nonetheless.

We were led into a private room, where a middle-aged man in a white coat stood waiting. He extended a hand toward Ezra. “Mr. Knight, always a pleasure.”

Ezra shook his hand with a curt nod. “Doctor.”

Dr. Langley turned to me next, his smile polite. “You must be Miss Carter.”

I nodded. “Halena.”

He gestured for me to sit on the examination table. “We’ll run a few tests to ensure you’re in good health. Standard procedure before any surrogacy planning.”

I swallowed hard, nodding as he moved to prepare.

Ezra remained standing, arms crossed as he observed.

The tests were quick—blood work, an ultrasound, a few routine checks. But as the doctor reviewed the results, his expression shifted slightly, his brows furrowing.

A knot tightened in my stomach.

“Is something wrong?” I asked hesitantly.

Dr. Langley glanced at Ezra before meeting my gaze. “You’re not in the best condition for pregnancy at the moment.”

My heart dropped. “What do you mean?”

He set the clipboard down. “Your body is under a significant amount of stress. Malnutrition, irregular cycles… It’s not impossible for you to conceive, but carrying a child right now would be extremely difficult and potentially dangerous.”

A cold dread seeped into my veins.

Ezra’s jaw tightened. “How long?”

Dr. Langley hesitated. “I would recommend waiting at least a year. With proper care, nutrition, and monitoring, her body should be in a much healthier state to sustain a pregnancy.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Ezra’s gaze flickered toward me, unreadable.

I couldn’t breathe.

A year.

I had thought this arrangement would be quick. That I would do what was needed, get my compensation, and move on with my life.

But now…

Now, I was tied to him for longer than I had anticipated.

Dr. Langley cleared his throat. “I can provide a detailed plan for her health improvement. Regular checkups, supplements, diet adjustments—it’ll take time, but it’s necessary.”

Ezra’s expression was unreadable as he processed the information. Then, after a long pause, he

simply nodded. “Do whatever is needed.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears.

This changed everything.

I wasn’t just bound to him for a contract anymore.

For the next year, my body—my life—would be under his control.

And there was no turning back now.