THE BILLIONAIRE'S BABY MAMA

PROLOGUE The Heir He Desperately Wanted "Absolutely not, Ethan!" Daphne Whitmore's voice echoed through the luxurious bedroom of their Manhattan penthouse. Ethan stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, his hands buried in his trouser pockets. Beyond the glass, the city glittered beneath the night sky, but he barely noticed the view. He had heard those words too many times. "I don't understand why you're making this such a big deal, Daphne," he said quietly. "We're married. We've been married for three years. Is it so unreasonable for me to want a child?" She let out a disbelieving laugh. "A child?" She gestured toward herself. "Have you looked at me lately? Do you have any idea how much work I've put into building my career? The magazine covers, the interviews, the endorsements? Do you know how quickly all of that could disappear if I became pregnant?" Ethan turned to face her. "And what about what I want?" For a moment, Daphne said nothing. Then she picked up her phone from the dressing table and examined her reflection in its dark screen. "Ethan, you knew who I was when you married me." Yes. He did. He remembered the young woman she had been three years ago—beautiful, ambitious, and desperately trying to make a name for herself in the modelling industry. He remembered the arrangement his father had presented to him before the wedding. A marriage between two families. A respectable wife for the Whitmore heir. A future for Daphne that money and influence could guarantee. Love had never been part of the agreement. At the time, Ethan hadn't cared. He had been too occupied with his father's expectations and the demands of running an expanding business empire. But things had changed. His father was gone now, and with him had gone the only person who understood why Ethan had agreed to the arrangement in the first place. For the first time, Ethan wanted something that belonged entirely to him. A child. Someone he could teach, protect, and watch grow. Someone who would carry a piece of him into a future he might never live to see. He wanted to know what it felt like to hold his own baby in his arms. Was that really too much to ask? "I want to be a father, Daphne," he said. "And I don't want to keep postponing it." "Then find another way!" The words escaped her before she could stop them. Ethan stared at her. "Another way?" Daphne folded her arms, suddenly uncomfortable beneath his gaze. "Your mother has been talking about surrogacy for months, hasn't she? Fine. Hire someone to carry the baby. Find a woman who needs the money. Pay her whatever she wants. But don't expect me to destroy my body and my career for this." The silence that followed was deafening. Ethan had expected resistance. He had expected arguments, excuses, perhaps even another promise to reconsider the matter later. He hadn't expected his wife to discuss their future child as though it were another business transaction. Yet, strangely, her suggestion offered a possibility he hadn't allowed himself to consider seriously. Perhaps there was another way. The bedroom door opened. "Am I interrupting something?" Evelyn Whitmore stood in the doorway, elegant as ever in a champagne-coloured silk dress. Ethan's mother had never been a woman who needed to raise her voice to command attention. She looked from her son to her daughter-in-law. "I heard the argument from the hallway." "Then you heard everything," Daphne replied sharply. Evelyn ignored the remark and walked into the room. "Ethan, I've been speaking with our family lawyer. There are agencies that specialise in surrogacy. We can find a suitable candidate, have everything properly documented, and make sure the child's future is protected." Daphne's expression tightened. "Of course. Another decision made for me." "No one is asking you to carry the baby yourself," Evelyn replied calmly. "But you are Ethan's wife. Whatever you think of this arrangement, you cannot pretend that his desire to have a child is unreasonable." Daphne looked away. She hated being cornered, especially in her own home. She had worked too hard to reach the position she occupied now. She had no intention of watching another woman take the place she had fought to secure. A surrogate was one thing. But she would never allow that woman to forget her position. "Fine," Daphne said at last. "Find your surrogate." Ethan studied her face. "Are you sure?" She met his eyes with a smile that failed to reach them. "Perfectly sure. But I have conditions." Evelyn sighed inwardly. Naturally, there would be conditions. "The woman will follow the agreement we give her," Daphne continued. "She will live according to our rules while she's carrying the baby, and when she gives birth, the child comes home with us. I don't want any confusion about that." "She will be carrying our child," Ethan reminded her. "Exactly. Our child." Daphne emphasised the last two words. She had no idea how much those words would haunt her. Ethan looked toward the city again, his mind already moving toward the future. He imagined a small hand wrapped around his finger, a tiny voice calling him Daddy, and a home filled with the kind of love he had never truly known. He didn't know the woman who would carry his child. He didn't know her name, her face, or the circumstances that would bring her into his life. He certainly didn't know that she would become the one person he would be willing to risk everything for. All he knew was that somewhere out there, a woman would soon agree to carry the Whitmore heir. And once she entered his world, nothing would ever be the same again. Not his marriage. Not his family. And certainly not his heart.