My Husband's Billion-Dollar Baby Deception

. He was the heir to a billion-dollar empire, and he carried a family

nd "protect" me, he hired a surrogate. A woman who looked exactly like

night with her, claiming she needed "emotional suppo

pte

ted every angle of their perfect New York love story-

a family curse, he'd explained, a tragic legacy where the women they loved-his mother, his grandmother-died in childbir

say, his voice strained, his hand

own deep-seated desire for a family. She poured her creative instincts into

e the ul

ed, surrounded by the scent of antiseptic and old money, he delivered his final command. His father, a

e company goes to your cousin." His father, his face etched with a desperate anxiety

r life. Kelsey's heart ached with love for him. But the next evening, his father arrived, his eyes red-rimmed and his voice trembling on the edge of hysteria. He spoke

"A surrogate," he said to Kelsey later, his

hope, felt a flicker of it i

. Our embryo, her womb. You'd be the mother in ever

e everything. A week later, h

me high cheekbones, the same shade of emerald green in her eyes. She was younger, maybe a decade

a strange light in his eyes. "The agency

down, murmuring her responses. She seemed overwh

later that night, pulling her close. "A means to an end

han half her life, and she chose to believe him. She had to. I

started almos

to be at the clinic. He started mi

night. "The hormones are making her emotional. The docto

explanations like a lifeline, refusing to see the t

anding tradition: a trip, just the two of them, to a new city

said over the phone, his voice rushed. "I have to b

orn to always keep. She spent their anniversar

oked, a single candle flickering on a small cake the waiter had brough

the clinic.

coat, each icy drop a fresh wave of despair. The next morning, she woke with a raging fever. She cal

hadn't even called to see if she was alive. As she collapsed onto the living room sofa, her hand slipped between the cushion

voice from the balcony, low an

turning to ice. Tha

on she hadn't heard in years. "A secret one, in Lake Como. We'll fly in your favorite flowers from Holland. It

k, knocking a picture frame off an end table. It s

he door flew open, and Bennett stood there

t are you do

n't know she possessed. She looked at her husband, the man who was

e," she said, h

ce. "I found this in the sofa. I

sk slipped over his features. "That must be yours, Kels," he said,

ungs. She had made one rule when this all began: Aria was never to s

on the coffee table, lit u

so much. The one you couldn't get me ou

ghtened. "It's the office," he lied, already moving toward

alone with the shattered gl

ll hers. She picked up the phone and dialed a number s

ghost of itself. "It's Kelsey. I