Bound By The Billionaire: The Surrogate Princess

Chapter 3: Fresh Start

Monday morning couldn’t come soon enough. I woke up excitedly, seeing Stacy already ironing my work clothes, the ones we had picked out yesterday on our little shopping trip at Target.

Have I ever mentioned how much I loved Stacy? She was truly my backbone.

She had spent the little she had on getting me new clothes, and though I promised to repay her when I got my first salary, she had simply brushed it off with a smile.

As I got ready for work, I watched her small frame bustling around the kitchen, moving with a quiet efficiency that made me smile. Petite as I was, Stacy was even smaller, yet somehow seemed larger than life in her energy.

“Come eat before you leave for work,” she called, placing an omelet and a pancake on our worn dining table. We scarfed the food quickly; she had a morning and afternoon shift today as well.

When she began helping me put on my clothes, adjusting my collar and smoothing my hair, a sudden memory flashed through me. The sensation of someone meticulously attending to every detail, ensuring nothing was out of place, washed over me—a memory from long ago.

For a brief moment, I felt that same quiet, exacting care again, a pang of nostalgia stirring deep within me, before the clatter of the kitchen and our hurried morning pulled me back to reality.

Stacy smiled softly at me, as if she had somehow sensed my wandering thoughts, and hugged me lightly.

“Go rock their world,” she whispered in my ear.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized I looked better than I had for the interview.

“Please, remove that smudge on your leg,” Stacy said, holding a pair of shoes in her hand and placing them at my feet.

“Jesus, Stacy! I could never… this was given to you by your boyfriend as a Valentine’s gift.”

“Put it on or I will make you,” she snapped, her don’t-mess-with-me expression firmly in place. I hurriedly did as she said, aware I wasn’t ready to receive a beating this morning, and I was already running late.

“Thank you, my little demon,” I said, grinning sarcastically.

“Good. I love you too. Now move your ass. Fighting!” she shouted.

“Fighting!” I called back, hurrying out.

We really needed to tone down our k-drama, I thought laughing slightly at our antics, as I walked to the bus stop, giving myself a little pep talk on the way. New York morning air had never felt more refreshing. For the first time, I noticed the bakery on our street, the smell of fresh bread filling the air.

I closed my eyes briefly, breathing in my surroundings, letting New York settle into me in a way it never had before. Usually, I rushed through these streets—head down, mind already at work, always running late or running away from something. But today was different.

The city felt brighter. Louder. Alive.

Every storefront seemed sharper, every passing face more vivid. Maybe it was the new job. Maybe it was hope. Either way, it felt like I was seeing New York for the first time.

Lost in my thoughts, I collided with someone.

The impact was sudden. A paper cup tipped, warm coffee sloshing dangerously close. I barely saved myself, but the liquid spilled generously onto her blouse instead.

“Oh my God—I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry,” I rushed out, mortified, my hands fluttering uselessly as if that might fix it.

She looked down at her shirt, then back up at me, surprisingly calm.

“It’s fine. Really,” she said lightly. “I have an extra shirt in my bag.”

I blinked. “You do?”

She nodded, brushing it off like this happened every day. “Yeah. Occupational hazard.”

Relief flooded me. “Thank you. I mean—thank you for not yelling at me.”

She smiled faintly. “No harm done.”

I gave her one last apologetic look before checking the time. My heart dropped.

“I really have to run—thank you again!”

Without waiting for a reply, I hurried off toward the bus stop, barely making it before the doors closed. My earlier happiness dimmed slightly, embarrassment clinging to me all the way to my stop.

But the moment I stood before the glass-and-steel building that housed my new workplace, that heaviness melted away.

This was it.

My mood lifted instantly as I stepped inside. I waved at the security guard at the entrance—the same one who had nearly manhandled me weeks ago. He barely reacted, but I smiled anyway, choosing not to remember that first awful day.

Nothing was going to ruin my mood today, I thought firmly.

I offered a bright smile to the receptionist at the lobby desk. She glanced at me briefly, unimpressed, and looked away without returning it. I didn’t care. I pressed the elevator button, humming softly under my breath.

Someone rushed up beside me just as the elevator arrived.

I turned, already prepared to greet whoever it was—until I froze.

It was her.

The coffee girl.

“Hi” she said at the same time I did, recognition lighting my face.

“I saw you come into the building and tried to catch up. You must be a new hire.”

She stuck out her hand confidently. “I’m Lily.”

The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped inside together.

“Elara,” I said, shaking her hand. “And—um—sorry again about earlier.”

She waved it off, shaking her head dismissively. “Seriously, don’t worry. See?” She gestured to her self. “Spare shirt. Crisis avoided.”

I laughed softly, tension easing.

“So,” she continued, eyeing me with curiosity as the doors closed, “are you new?”

“Yes,” I said, then hesitated when she waited expectantly. “I’m the personal assistant to the Vice President of Strategic Planning.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Nice. I work under the CEO.”

She paused abruptly, eyes widening. “—Oh God. That came out wrong.”

I burst out laughing.

“I mean,” she rushed on, flustered, “I’m his personal assistant. Professionally. Strictly professionally.”

Her embarrassment was so genuine it was endearing.

“Got it,” I said, still smiling.

“Have you met him?” she asked suddenly.

I shook my head. “No. Today’s my first day.”

Her reaction was immediate. “What?” she shrieked, clapping a hand over her mouth. “You haven’t?”

I couldn’t help smiling at her dramatics. “Nope.”

She leaned closer, lowering her voice dramatically. “He’s… how do I put this? Dark. Brooding. Cold. Mysterious. The kind of man who looks like he has a permanent ‘do not speak to me’ sign written across his face.”

She gestured wildly as she spoke, fully invested.

“And fine,” she added emphatically. “Fine, fine. Like those billionaire men in movies. You know—Christian Grey, Bruce Wayne—but scarier. Because he’s real.”

I watched her hands dance through the air, her expressions shifting with every word, fascinated.

She snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hello? Did you hear anything I said?”

I blinked, pulled from my thoughts. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?”

She sighed dramatically, then grabbed my hand. “I said—you can come to me if you need anything. Anything at all. I’m seven floors away.”

Warmth bloomed in my chest. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

The elevator slowed, chiming softly.

“This is me,” I said, stepping out. “See you at lunch?”

“Yes!” she called out brightly as the doors slid shut. “Definitely!”

I stood there for a moment, smiling to myself before turning toward the V.P’s office.

I straightened my shoulders and knocked three times, schooling my expression as I tried to calm the fluttering in my chest. I had no idea what awaited me on the other side of the door.

“Come in,” a voice called.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside—only to freeze for half a second.

She was a woman.

“Good morning, ma’am,” I said quickly, recovering. “My name is Elara Moore. I’m the personal assistant.”

My hands folded neatly in front of me, a habit I hadn’t even realized I still had.

“Yes, welcome, Elara,” she replied, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Her tone was calm, welcoming even, though her face remained composed and stern. Strangely, that contrast settled my nerves more than I expected.

She flipped through my file, asking questions about my résumé—my qualifications, my previous experience, my organizational skills. She skipped over anything personal, anything that brushed too close to my background. No questions about where I was from. No probing curiosity.

I wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or simply professionalism, but I was grateful all the same.

“Since today is your first day,” she said at last, closing the folder, “we’ll keep things simple. Your office is just around the corner. You can arrange it however you like—it’s your space.”

She offered a brief smile.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied, returning it, even though I knew I wouldn’t be changing much. For now, just having a space of my own felt unreal.

“Today, you’ll focus on answering calls and observing how things are done,” she continued. “I assume you’re familiar with scheduling and calendar management?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Organize my calendar and confirm tomorrow’s meetings. That will be all for today.”

After giving me a few more minor instructions, she excused me, and I stepped out, my heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

My office.

The words echoed in my head as I entered the small but neat room. It wasn’t grand, but it was mine.

I pulled out my phone and video-called Stacy, fumbling slightly as I navigated the screen. I still wasn’t entirely used to it, but I managed.

Her face lit up the moment she answered.

“You made it!” she squealed.

Her excitement was contagious—she looked happier than I felt. We spoke briefly, promising to talk properly later, and I ended the call smiling to myself.

I spent the morning settling in, organizing files, and familiarizing myself with the systems. By the time lunch approached, I had completed more than half of my tasks. Only tomorrow’s schedule remained.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the lunch Stacy had packed—a simple homemade sandwich.

I had just begun unwrapping it when my door flew open.

“Don’t tell me that’s your lunch,” Lily said, staring at it like it had personally offended her.

I paused. “Um… yes?” I replied, shrugging.

“Oh no. Absolutely not,” she declared. “Dump that and come with me. Our company provides meals for staff.”

I bristled slightly at her choice of words but said nothing, closing my bag and following her.

We headed to the staff dining area, trays in hand, and I immediately forgot my mild annoyance. The aroma alone was enough to make my mouth water. The spread was generous—warm dishes, fresh sides, everything inviting.

Now I understood why she’d called my sandwich crap.

I took modest portions, not wanting to overeat, and we found a seat together.

Lily did most of the talking. I learned she was engaged and had a child, her voice bright whenever she mentioned them.

“So,” she said suddenly, wiggling her eyebrows, “any boyfriend-y?”

I shook my head. “No.”

She barely paused before continuing, launching into stories and laughing at her own jokes. I smiled along, realizing she didn’t need much prompting—conversation was her natural state.

She even joked about wanting a secret office romance.

“Too bad I’m engaged and have a kid,” she added, glancing fondly at her ring.

Despite her teasing, it was obvious she loved her life exactly as it was.

After lunch, I returned to my office to wrap up the day’s work. As I typed, a strange sensation crept over me—the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

I glanced around, my eyes catching on a small camera mounted in the corner of the room. I stared at it for a moment longer than necessary before exhaling softly.

You’re being paranoid, I told myself.

Old habits.

Shaking it off, I returned to my work.

The day ended faster than I expected. The VP of Strategic Planning had dismissed me early, assuring me that since it was my first day, I should rest while she stayed back to finish her work. Outside the building, Lily mentioned she was heading to the kindergarten to pick up her child. I waved, feeling lighter than I had all morning, my nerves slowly untangling.

Walking home, I hoped Stacey had already made it back. But when I opened the door, the apartment was quiet. She wasn’t home yet. Shrugging off my disappointment, I began preparing dinner, the familiar motions grounding me after the whirlwind of my first day.

Halfway through dinner, the door clicked open. Stacey appeared, breathless from her extra shift, a tired smile on her face. She immediately jumped in to help set the table, though we quickly decided to eat on the couch instead, settling in with another episode of Business Proposal.

“So… how was your first day?” she asked, eyes shining with curiosity.

I recounted every little detail, laughing at Lily’s antics and her unfiltered chatter. “She is really the opposite of you,” I said with a grin.

“What? I’m not that bad, Eli!” Stacy protested, scrunching her nose in that way that always made me smile. Eli—my nickname from her.

“No, no… you’re my cute potato,” I teased, ruffling her hair. “P-O-T-A-T-O,” I added for emphasis, making her break into a squeal of laughter.

That tiny spark of playfulness escalated into a full-blown tickle fight. Fingers flew, laughter echoed, and soon we were both gasping for air, cheeks aching from grinning too hard. Eventually, we collapsed on the couch, breathless, still laughing quietly.

I grabbed my laptop to finish a little work, but curiosity got the better of me. My fingers typed in the company’s name before I could stop myself. My eyes widened as the search results loaded. The company wasn’t just big—it was global, massive, and far more influential than I had imagined.

I decided to search up the CEO, curiosity tingling as my fingers hovered over the keyboard. But then a yawn escaped me, and I realized just how drained I was.

“No, not tonight,” I whispered to myself, closing the laptop gently. That would be for another day I told myself, giving in to the fatigue.

The second my head hit the pillow, I dozed off, letting sleep wash over me completely.