surrogate Sins

RHEA’S POV The morning light stabbed through the cheap motel curtains like it hated me personally. I groaned softly, my head throbbing so badly it felt like someone was driving nails into my skull. For a few seconds, I just lay there staring at the stained ceiling above me, trying to remember how I ended up here. Then reality hit. Hard. My gaze slowly dropped toward the floor where my wedding dress lay in a crumpled heap beside empty alcohol bottles and scattered papers. The surrogacy contract. A shaky breath left my lips. Right. Last night. My wedding day. God. I squeezed my eyes shut as memories came crashing back violently. The church. The flowers. The music. My mother, crying fake happy tears while guests smiled at me like I was the luckiest woman alive. And Damien. My fiancé. No. My almost husband. I swallowed painfully as the image replayed again in my head like torture. Damien tangled in the sheets with my sister. Dinah. I still remembered the way my entire body froze when I opened the bridal suite door. The sound of her laughing. His hands on her skin. The betrayal had been bad enough already. But then he looked at me. Not guilty. Not ashamed. Just irritated. Like I was the inconvenience. “Dinah is my fated mate,” he had said coldly while I stood there barely breathing. “You should’ve known this would happen eventually.” Eventually. As if destroying me was inevitable. A bitter laugh escaped my throat. Of course I hadn’t argued. I never did. What right did I even have? I was only Rhea. I was twenty-two years old, weak and my wolf had been dormant since birth. An embarrassment in a powerful werewolf bloodline. People tolerated me because they had to. That was all. I slowly pushed myself upright, immediately regretting it when dizziness slammed into me. “s**t,” I muttered weakly. The motel room spun slightly before settling again. I forced myself to stand anyway and stumbled toward the small mirror hanging near the bathroom door. I looked horrible. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath my eyes. My curls were tangled wildly around my shoulders. Mascara stains framed bloodshot eyes while my lips looked pale and cracked. I looked like a ghost. Maybe I already was one. My gaze drifted toward the surrogacy papers again sitting on the small table beside the bed. Signed. Actually signed. Even now, I could barely believe it. After leaving the hotel last night half drunk and completely shattered, I had ended up at some private bar downtown trying to drown humiliation with alcohol. That was where he found me. Or maybe where he had been watching me. I still remembered the way the stranger sat across from me so calmly while the rest of the world blurred around me. Sharp suit. Cold eyes. Dangerous voice. “Have my child.” I let out another dry laugh at the memory. No greeting. No introduction. Just a deal. At first, I thought he was insane. Then he explained. Surrogacy. Money. A clean contract. No emotional attachment. I carry his heir, walk away rich, and disappear from his life forever. Simple. At least that was what he called it. At the time, it sounded insane. Now? Now it sounded better than staying here while my family forced me to smile through Damien and Dinah’s happily ever after. My stomach twisted violently. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up immediately with notifications. Missed calls from Mom. Texts from Dinah. Messages from the family group chat. Rhea, where are you? Please stop embarrassing this family. You need to calm down and come home. Damien didn’t mean to hurt you. I stared at the messages numbly before laughing bitterly. Didn’t mean to hurt me? Right. I silenced the phone completely and tossed it back onto the bed before reaching for the black business card lying beside the contract papers. Kael Maddox. Even the name sounded expensive. Last night, before leaving me alone in the motel room, he leaned down slightly and pressed the card into my hand. “If you decide to rewrite your life,” he had murmured against my ear, “call my lawyer tomorrow.” Rewrite your life. At the time, I thought it was just another rich man trying to sound mysterious. Now I wasn’t so sure. I grabbed a hoodie from the chair nearby and slipped it over my body before sitting back down on the edge of the bed. Then I opened my browser. Kael Maddox. The search results appeared instantly. CEO of Maddox Enterprises. Alpha of the Silverfang Pack. Billionaire. Widower. No heirs. My heartbeat slowed strangely as I continued reading. Rumors surrounded him everywhere online. Ruthless businessman. Dangerous alpha. Untouchable. Some articles even mentioned his late wife’s death during a blood moon ritual five years ago. No confirmed details. No explanations. Only whispers. I stared at his photo on the screen for a long moment. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Cold gray eyes that looked almost inhuman even in pictures. Last night, drunk as I was, I still remembered how overwhelming his presence felt. Power rolled off him naturally. Not loud. Not forced. Just absolute. And somehow, instead of terrifying me completely, it made me feel safe for the first time in years. Maybe that alone proved I had officially lost my mind. I looked down at the signed surrogacy papers again. Then toward my phone. Then back to his photo. This was insane. Completely insane. But staying here would destroy me slowly anyway. At least this way, I got something out of my suffering. Money. Freedom. A fresh start. And maybe revenge too. Because one thing Damien never understood was that quiet people eventually broke in dangerous ways. I reached for my phone again. This time, I dialed the lawyer’s number written beneath Kael Maddox’s name. The line rang twice before someone answered smoothly. “Ellis speaking.” I swallowed once before forcing the words out. “My name is Rhea,” I said quietly. “Mr. Maddox offered me a contract last night.” Silence. Then, “Ah,” the lawyer replied calmly. “We’ve been expecting your call.” A chill slid slowly down my spine. It was too late now. I stared out the motel window at the gray morning sky while my grip tightened around the phone. I was really doing this. And deep down, something told me my life would never be the same again.