SURROGATE BY ACCIDENT

Chapter 3

The mansion loomed ahead of me like something torn out of a dream—or a nightmare. Glass and steel rose into the gray morning sky, its sharp lines glittering with the kind of wealth I had only ever seen in magazines. A black iron gate opened silently at my approach, the smooth hum of hidden machinery the only sound, as though even the air bent itself around Alexander Knight’s command.

I gripped the straps of my worn handbag tighter, my palms sweaty. This was insane. Yesterday I was a barista counting coins for bus fare. Today I was walking into the home of a billionaire who claimed I carried his child.

How was this my life?

A sleek black car idled at the curb. The driver, a man in a crisp suit, opened the rear door with a silent bow. His expression gave nothing away, as if this were routine. As if women wandered into Alexander Knight’s world every day, carrying his heirs.

I climbed out of the car, my knees unsteady. The driveway was so polished it reflected the clouds overhead, a mirror leading up to double glass doors that shimmered like crystal. For a moment, I thought about running. Turning around. Pretending none of this was happening.

But then I remembered Marcus. Sophie. The ache of betrayal. The emptiness of my bank account.

I couldn’t run. Not anymore.

The doors opened before I could touch them.

“Miss Carter,” a voice said.

And there he was again.

Alexander Knight.

He stood in the doorway like a king awaiting his subject. Today, he wore a charcoal suit, the jacket cut sharp against his broad shoulders, the collar of his white shirt open just enough to reveal the edge of tanned skin. His storm-gray eyes locked onto me instantly, pinning me in place.

I swallowed hard. “Mr. Knight.”

His mouth curved in the faintest ghost of amusement. “You came.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” I muttered.

He stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. “Choice,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, “is a luxury most people can’t afford.”

I brushed past him, my chin tilted higher than I felt. The inside of the mansion stole my breath. Vaulted ceilings stretched above me, chandeliers glittering like galaxies of stars. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, their veins gold and ivory. A sweeping staircase coiled upward like something out of a fairy tale, though there was nothing fairy-tale about this place. It was cold. Beautiful. Untouchable.

Just like its owner.

“Wow,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

Alexander’s gaze flicked toward me, sharp and assessing. “Impressed?”

I shook my head quickly. “Intimidated.”

For a moment, his lips twitched, almost as though he was fighting a smile. But then the mask slipped back into place. He gestured toward a sitting room, its walls lined with bookshelves, its furniture leather and steel. No warmth. No softness.

“Sit,” he commanded.

I sat, my hands twisting together in my lap.

He took the chair opposite me, every movement controlled, deliberate. A man who never wasted a gesture.

“Let’s discuss the terms,” he said.

My chest tightened. “Terms. As if this is a business deal.”

“It is a business deal,” he replied calmly. “You’re carrying my child. That makes you the most important investment in my life right now.”

His words made my skin prickle. “Investment? Do you even hear yourself? This isn’t—this isn’t a stock portfolio, Mr. Knight. This is my body. My life.”

His gaze sharpened, the storm in his eyes darkening. “And you think I don’t know the weight of what’s at stake?”

I flinched, but I refused to look away. For a moment, the air between us crackled with something unspoken, hot and dangerous.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting lightly on his knees. “Here’s how this will work. You’ll live here, in this house. You’ll have access to the best doctors, nutritionists, and security. Anything you need, you’ll have. In return, you’ll carry my child safely. When the pregnancy is over, you’ll be compensated—handsomely.”

My stomach twisted. “So you want me to move in? Like some… some prisoner in a golden cage?”

His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. “Not a prisoner. Protected.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Protected from what?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made me feel stripped bare.

“You’ll sign the contract,” he said finally. “Or you won’t. That’s your choice. But make no mistake, Miss Carter—this child is mine. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure their safety.”

The certainty in his voice was terrifying. Terrifying, and… something else.

“Why?” I whispered before I could stop myself. “Why is this so important to you? You could hire a dozen surrogates. Why me?”

For the first time, his expression faltered. A shadow flickered across his face, something raw and unguarded, before the mask slammed back into place.

“That,” he said quietly, “is none of your concern.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding. There was more to this man than cold steel and contracts. I saw it, if only for a second.

But then his phone buzzed, and the moment shattered. He answered with a clipped, icy tone, his voice dropping low in a language I didn’t understand. When he hung up, he looked at me again, all business.

“You’ll have until tomorrow to decide. If you agree, the contract will be signed, and you’ll stay here. If you refuse…” His gaze hardened. “You’ll leave. And you’ll have nothing.”

My throat tightened. Nothing. Wasn’t that what I already had?

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the marble floor. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want your mansion. I don’t want any of this!”

I turned toward the door, anger and fear warring inside me.

“Elena.”

The sound of my name on his lips froze me in place. It was the first time he’d said it, and it rolled off his tongue like a promise, like a threat.

I turned back slowly.

His gaze was on me, sharp and unrelenting, but beneath it, something flickered. Something dangerous.

“You may not want this,” he said softly. “But fate doesn’t ask for permission. You’re in my world now. And my world… doesn’t let go.”

The air between us crackled again, heavy with tension, with something I refused to name.

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing, and walked out of the room.

But his voice lingered, low and unyielding, echoing in my chest long after I left.

My world doesn’t let go.