Millionaire s Hot Secretary

It seemed stupid to her to be forced to have a child. Having to prove to his father that he could have a genetic inheritance was not something Ayden Emory cared about. It was enough that he was one of the best businessmen in the United States, awarded many times for his business skills, and to top it off, he was running the family company with excellence.

Wasn't that enough?

Ayden laughed as he left his father's office, he may be an excellent businessman and have many awards, but he knows what good is nothing when it comes to negotiating with the man who taught him everything he knows.

“Katty, call my lawyer,” he ordered over the loudspeaker to his assistant. Tell him to meet me at my house in an hour.

He hangs up.

She doesn't wait for them to say okay, much less say thank you. After all, they are just employees and do as they are told. He gets into his car and drives from his father's mansion on the outskirts of the city to the heart of Manhattan along 5th Ave.

He slows down upon arrival and hands the keys to his Aston Martin to his doorman for safekeeping. Likewise, he goes up to his apartment and searches directly on the internet for something that will give him an answer to what he needs, a son.

“I'm old and sick” he remembers his father's words, as if he were standing next to him.

“Old blackmailer” solves out loud.

He leaves his laptop on the table and walks straight to his bedroom, takes off one of the hundreds of suits he wears daily and leaves his chest bare, wearing only a tracksuit. He goes to the floor of his personal gym and stares at himself in the mirror.

“My body is mine, I'm fine, this is mental,” he says to his image in front of him. My body is mine, I'm fine, this is mental.

He repeats over and over until the doorbell rings. He goes down to the second floor and opens it for his flamboyant and arrogant lawyer.

“Daniel, it's good to see you here,” he greets, opening the door. Come in, I've ordered pizza. It doesn't take long to arrive.

Daniel, who knows perfectly well Ayden's secret, waits for him to advance so as not to invade his personal space.

“That's nice, but tell me, why did I come here?” One of Daniel Cheng's qualities is that he doesn't beat around the bush.

Ayden walks to his kitchen table, picks up his laptop, and sits down right in front of his lawyer in the living room. She puts the screen in front of him and Daniel looks at it carefully, as if studying it.

“Do you want to adopt?” He asks, confused.

“No, that's not an option,” he clarifies, remembering that his father demanded that having an adopted child was not a possibility. He wanted to carry on the bloodline and have his grandchild inherit absolutely everything from them. I need a surrogate.

Daniel blinked, understanding his favorite client's words. She was making him hundreds of thousands of dollars a year.

“Are you convinced this is what you want?” his lawyer asks hesitantly.

“No, but it's what I need to get my father to leave me the whole company,” he clarifies, causing Daniel to be surprised. “He is dying, and he wants me to assure him that the family inheritance will not be lost in a government fund. He wants me to get married and have a family. You know about me…” he pauses, for he would rather not say out loud what they both already know. “It is more than clear that I will never be able to be intimate with a woman so. This is an option.”

“But what about your brother?” He might be able to give him the grandson that old Gerard wants.

Ayden stands up, laughing at that comment.

“Well, you know my father barely tolerates it… and the truth is that I don't either,” he confesses without any shame.

All those short answers make Daniel understand the situation better. He was unaware that Gerard Emory was dying. He would have to ask his father if he already knew. Having the Emory's as clients was no accident. The Cheng had made a name for themselves in the city thanks to both father and son working as their lawyers.

“I have to be honest Ayden, you are single and that is a big problem when it comes to finding the right woman. You have no references for what kind of women you like because you've never been in a relationship,” he says, recalling his last surrogacy conference in New York State. You need eggs, and I'd like to know if you want the mother to donate them or do we have to get them?

Ayden hadn't thought about it, so she hesitates for a moment.

“If the mother donates them, does she have to be involved after the birth?” She asks in the hope that this is not the case.

“Of course not, we can define the contract to be as you want it to be.” she clarifies, making Ayden hopeful.

“Okay, look it up, offer a good sum,” he warns, hopefully. I want to clarify it that once I have my son, we will not see her again.

“Okay, I'll put my people to work,” Daniel says, standing up.

“No, I want this to be private, I don't want anyone to know,” he remarks ostracized. And one more thing, I want to interview her personally.

Daniel has hundreds of other questions, but he doesn't ask them, he knows just enough to look for that surrogate. How he will raise a child who needs to be carried when he himself will not tolerate being touched is none of his business.

The pizza arrives, and both men savor it while clarifying some other clauses of the contract. Like the care, the hospital and the needs of the mother, from clothes shopping to body massages.

“I really want to pamper the woman who will carry my child in her womb,” assures the millionaire. I only ask that she be an intelligent woman, preferably, and that she doesn't have degenerative diseases. Look for her.

☆ﾟ･*:.˛˚ღღﾟ~εïз~ ღღﾟ･*:｡.･*.･*.☆

Arya lies excitedly at the university's awards ceremony, the IG Nobel's. Everything seemed to be going for the best. The prize around psychology was about to be named when a call on her cell phone interrupts her musings about the future winner.

“Hello,” he answers as he picks up the call.

“Are you Arya Harley?” asks a female voice on the other end of the line.

“That's right.”

“Your mother, Mirella Harley, has suffered a mishap at the mall. She collapsed and has been taken to the Carney Clinic,” the woman explains calmly.

“Is she all, right?” She asks, feeling fear creep up her spine and breaking out in a cold sweat.

Her heart is racing, and she is afraid for her mother. She is the only person who loves her unconditionally. She is his anchor.

After knowing the basics, he hangs up to head to the clinic.

“Hey, wait!” asks her best friend when she sees her slipping out of the crowd to leave.

“I can't, I have to go, my mother is sick! Arya declares, leaving the room and leaving behind the long” awaited prizes.