Escaping The Billionaire's Deadly Surrogate Trap

The sun had barely risen when Blaire finished washing her face. She changed into a pair of jeans and a plain sweater. She took a deep breath, opened her bedroom door, and walked down to the first floor dining room. Blaire stepped into the sunlit room. She forced down the bile rising in her throat and managed a polite, obedient smile at her adoptive parents and siblings sitting around the long table. She pulled out a chair and sat down. She deliberately picked up a piece of whole wheat toast and chewed it slowly. The repetitive motion helped hide the slight tremor in her fingertips. Clotilda set her coffee cup down. She used a sickeningly fake tone of concern to ask how Blaire slept last night. Her eyes, however, scanned Blaire's stomach like she was inspecting a breeding mare. Blaire took a deep breath and looked straight into Clotilda's eyes. She kept her voice light as she answered that she slept fine. Then, she dropped the bomb. She announced her decision to move into the university dorms. The air in the dining room froze instantly. Danita's knife screeched against her ceramic plate, leaving a harsh, ugly sound hanging in the air. Ewald, the patriarch, lowered his morning paper. He frowned deeply and demanded a reason, playing the role of the strict but caring father. Blaire delivered her prepared excuse. She claimed she needed to undergo intensive, closed off training to apply for the MFA scholarship. She used academic ambition as her shield. Clotilda immediately snapped her objection. She argued that an unmarried girl living on campus would ruin the family's reputation. Blaire knew the real reason was Clotilda's fear of losing control over her walking organ bank. Calhoun, who had been silent, suddenly placed his silverware down. He used an authoritative tone that left no room for argument. He agreed to let her go, but added a hard condition: she had to return home for dinner every single weekend. Blaire met Calhoun's bottomless dark eyes. She knew this was his absolute bottom line. She clenched her jaw and nodded, accepting the compromise. Danita saw the shift in power and rolled her eyes. She used a fake, innocent voice to suggest Blaire go see Kamryn tonight, trying to push their entrapment plan forward. Hearing that name made Blaire's stomach cramp violently. She forced a bitter smile and flatly rejected the idea, citing her heavy workload. Breakfast ended in a suffocating, bizarre silence. Blaire grabbed her backpack, muttered an excuse about the library, and practically ran out of the estate. She walked several blocks away from the massive iron gates before her tense shoulders finally dropped. She picked up her pace and headed toward a small, inconspicuous CVS pharmacy on the corner. She pushed the glass doors open. The blast of air conditioning hit her face. Blaire pulled the brim of her baseball cap down low, keeping her head angled away from the security cameras mounted on the ceiling. She walked quickly to the feminine hygiene aisle. Her eyes scanned the shelves until she found the small box of Plan B. She grabbed it, but as she turned around, she bumped hard into a heavy set woman pushing a cart. The woman loudly complained. Several other customers turned their heads to look. Blaire panicked, hiding the box behind her back and mumbling a string of apologies. Once the attention shifted away, she hurried to the self checkout machine. She fed crisp cash into the slot, grabbed her change, and crumpled the receipt into a nearby trash can. Stepping out of the pharmacy, Blaire ducked into a deserted alleyway. Her hands shook as she ripped the cardboard box open. She popped the pill out of the blister pack and swallowed it dry, without any water. The chalky pill scratched the back of her throat. A bitter taste coated her tongue, but a fierce spark of satisfaction lit up her eyes. She had just ruined their master plan. Blaire walked to a nearby park and sat down on a wooden bench. She pulled out her phone and started searching for high paying part time jobs. She scrolled past the coffee shop listings. Minimum wage would never be enough to fund her escape from New York. Her thumb swiped faster. She navigated to a hidden, underground New York forum, looking for something off the books. A flashing neon banner caught her eye. Club Velvet was urgently hiring premium resident dancers. Daily cash payouts. Strict privacy protection. Blaire clicked the link. The hourly rate listed on the screen made her heart pound against her ribs. It was the only way she could gather enough cash in a short amount of time. She read the job description. It required revealing outfits and softcore, sensual performances. Years of conservative upbringing made her stomach twist with shame. Then, the memory of Clotilda's face talking about draining her blood flashed in her mind. The visceral fear of death instantly crushed any moral hesitation. Blaire clamped her teeth together. Her eyes hardened into cold steel. She tapped the application button without a second thought. An encrypted chat window popped up. The manager told her to come to the back alley door at ten o'clock tonight, wearing a mask, for an audition. Blaire locked her phone screen. She stared at her pale reflection in the black glass. She told herself that to survive, she had to become someone else entirely.