The Mafia Heir's Surrogate

Chapter Three

That morning, I had been sitting in my study with a half-finished glass of whiskey resting untouched on my desk while numbers blurred across the documents in front of me. The large windows beside me overlooked the back garden, though the curtains remained partly drawn, letting in strips of rising sunlight to stretch across the floor.

Normally, my estate stayed quiet. Order mattered to me, and routine mattered even more. Which was exactly why the sudden sound of raised voices made me pause.

At first, it sounded distant enough to ignore—a few muffled words, someone shouting. Then another voice rose sharply, followed by movement that felt too chaotic for my liking.

My brows pulled together.

The garden.

I turned slightly in my chair, listening harder.

There it was again—the argument loud and uncontrolled. I slowly placed my pen down. Nobody caused scenes on my property unless they wanted consequences.

Standing from my chair, I adjusted the sleeves of my black shirt and stepped toward the door. The hallway outside my study felt strangely tense, and the voices grew louder as I moved downstairs.

By the time I crossed the foyer and stepped outside into the garden, irritation had already settled firmly inside me.

“What exactly is going on here?”

The words came out calm, quiet but firm enough to stop movement instantly.

The entire garden froze.

My guards stood near the fountain looking uncertain, while Vittoria stood with crossed arms, dressed elegantly as always, her expression full of annoyance. Beside her stood James. And between them, was a woman.

My attention shifted to the lady who looked disheveled and angry, trying to pull herself free from James’s grip.

“Matthew,” Vittoria said quickly, walking toward me. “Perfect timing.”

I ignored her for a second, because I recognized the woman.

My eyes traveled from her dark hair to her sharp eyes—a face I had looked at just last night. I racked my brain for a moment then recalled her name.

Aria Cooper.

She was the surrogate candidate. The woman whose file had somehow stood out among dozens of others.

Before I could speak, James tightened his hold on her arm.

“She’s dangerous,” he said quickly. “A trespasser.”

Aria immediately tried to jerk away from him.

“Let go of me,” she snapped.

“She followed us here,” James continued, his voice rushed. “She’s unstable and obsessed. She’s trying to ruin my relationship with Vittoria.”

My expression darkened slightly.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Vittoria sighed dramatically.

“She’s obviously here to cause trouble,” she said coldly. “Throw her out.”

One of the guards immediately moved, then another. I watched Aria straighten herself despite the clear humiliation burning in her face. Something about the way she stood caught my attention.

She didn't look weak or angry or cornered, not even for a bit, and then I realized I had seen that look—or something close, dangerously close to it—in her eyes, last night. In the picture she had attached to her application.

“Stop.”

The single word cut through the garden. The guards froze instantly. James blinked, while Vittoria frowned.

I stepped forward slowly. The air remained silent as I looked directly at the guards.

“She’s my guest.”

James went still. Completely still. Panic flashed across his face so quickly that it almost amused me.

“What?” Vittoria said sharply.

I ignored her. Instead, I turned to Aria, who was breathing hard now, trying to calm herself.

James suddenly released her arm. His face had gone pale. My eyes moved between them.

Interesting again.

Far too much tension for strangers.

“You know him?” I asked casually.

Aria opened her mouth.

But James spoke first.

“No,” he said too quickly. “Not really.”

The answer came fast and sounded suspiciously desperate. For the first time, I noticed the way Aria looked at him. Not fear nor with unfamiliarity.

I saw pain flash across her eyes as she stared at James.

Ah.

That explained things.

James shifted nervously.

“You don’t understand,” he said quickly. “She’s dangerous.”

Vittoria crossed her arms.

“Honestly, Matthew,” she said, “just throw her out already.”

I looked at my sister for a long second. Then at James, the man standing beside her like he belonged. The same man who suddenly looked terrified of a random woman's presence.

“I just told you that woman's dangerous,” James said.

“And I just said she's my guest,” I replied sharply. “What's your problem with that?”

James swallowed hard. Then suddenly, his face twisted sharply into anger.

“You think this is funny?” he snapped, glaring at me. “You’re stealing another man’s wife now?”

Before anyone could react, and before I could even say a word, he reached out and landed a hard smack across my face.

Complete silence followed instantly. Even the wind seemed to stop. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

I fluttered my eyelids, trying to process what had just happened here.

James had just slapped me, on my own property, and in front of my guards.

Slowly, I turned my head back toward him.

Then I smiled coldly and quietly.

Around us, several guns clicked into place, aimed directly at James.

The color drained from his face.

Vittoria gasped.

“Matthew,” she said quickly, suddenly nervous, “don’t be dramatic.”

Dramatic.

I almost laughed.

James stood frozen now, breathing harder. Fear looked better on him than confidence.

“You slapped me,” I said softly.

“I—”

“On my property.”

Nobody spoke.

The guards waited.

One command. That was all it would take. But strangely enough, I wasn’t interested. Not in him.

I stepped forward until I stood directly in front of James. Then smiled again.

“You’re lucky I’m in a patient mood.”

His throat bobbed.

“Get out of my sight.”

Nobody argued, not even Vittoria.

I turned away from them and looked toward Aria instead.

“Come with me.”

She hesitated briefly. Then followed closely behind me as I walked back towards the house. Neither of us spoke as we entered the house and climbed upstairs toward my study.

I noticed the stiffness in her shoulders—the tension and the humiliation she was trying hard not to show.

Once inside, I closed the door behind us. She stood awkwardly near the desk.

“You can sit,” I said.

Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag before she slowly sat down.

For a moment, silence stretched between us. Normally, I conducted interviews carefully—asking questions, making background checks, psychological evaluation.

But what had happened a few minutes ago had already told me enough, so I decided to skip the interview.

I folded my hands together.

“I need an heir,” I said plainly. “Not eventually. I need it soon.”

Her expression softened into caution.

“My family's situation is complicated.”

That was putting it lightly, if I was being honest.

“Vittoria is my sister,” I continued calmly. “And she believes she deserves control over things that belong to me.”

I paused.

“I need stability.”

“And that means,” I said, opening a folder on the desk, “I need someone willing to carry my child.”

I slid the documents toward her. Her eyes lowered, then widened slightly.

“There’s an additional clause,” I said.

She looked up again.

“You would legally marry me. Become my wife.”

Silence settled heavily between us. I watched hesitation spread across her face.

Fear.

Uncertainty.

Thought.

“With all I have made clear so far, are you in, or are you out?” I asked quietly.

She stayed silent for a long moment. Then something shifted in her expression. Something colder and more determined.

Slowly, she picked up the pen, signed, and pushed the papers back toward me.

“I’ll do it.”

There was no hesitation in her voice. No second thoughts.

Interesting.

I took the folder from her and nodded slowly.

“The embryo transfer is tomorrow.”

She stiffened.

“If you back out,” I continued calmly, “or fail to conceive, the penalty attached to this contract will cost far more than your freedom.”

Her jaw tightened slightly but she nodded, stiffly and quietly. Then she stood.

“I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?” she asked.

I nodded. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the door while I stared at her back till she vanished behind the closed door.