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The Billionaire's Baby Maker (ENGLISH VERSION) Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Baby Maker (ENGLISH VERSION)

Lyana Dela Merced grew up with nothing but grit and determination. Life had never been kind to her. From abandoned by her lover, and later losing her only child to illness, she learned the hard way that pain doesn’t pause for anyone. But even when the world kept breaking her heart, she refused to stay down. Her younger brother, who battled mental illness, depended on her strength, and that was enough reason for Lyana to keep fighting. From one side job to another, Lyana took on every decent work she could find just to survive. Cleaning houses, waiting tables, running errands—name it, she’s done it. So when her doctor friend one night offered her a stable job with the wealthy Tejada family, she didn’t think twice. But what she didn’t expect was that the job came with a shocking twist. Instead of being hired as a simple housekeeper, the Tejadas wanted her to be their surrogate mother. They couldn’t have a child of their own, and they wanted Lyana to carry the baby for them. Torn between desperation and morality, she faced an impossible choice: become the billionaire’s baby maker, or walk away from the one chance that could change her family’s life forever. Years later, fate plays its hand again. The widowed Preston Tejada crosses paths with Lyana Dela Merced, the woman who once carried his child. Old secrets resurface, hearts begin to stir, and both must confront a past that refuses to stay buried. Can Lyana right the wrongs she once made with the Tejada family? Or will she find herself falling for the very man she was never meant to love?
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Chapter 2

“What kind of dancing is that, Lyana? You look like a lamp post, for heaven’s sake!”

My temper flared the moment Jasrylle said that. Instead of looking at the mirror, I turned sharply to her. “I told you I have no idea how to do this kind of thing, didn’t I? You said I could handle it—”

“I said just sway your hips a little! But with what you’re doing, you look like a pig being butchered. My God, you’re stressing me out,” she complained, fanning herself dramatically. “Girl, seriously. You’re not a dancer… you’re a human lamppost! Or are you made of bamboo, huh?”

I rolled my eyes and massaged my temples in frustration. We’d been practicing all afternoon because she said she’d take me to the bar where she worked tonight to introduce me to her boss. According to her, “Mamita” always asked applicants to give a sample performance before hiring anyone, and since dancing was what I was applying for, I had no choice but to learn.

“What now? I told you, I don’t know how to dance. You can see it yourself, right? I wasn’t kidding when I said I have no clue about this kind of thing.”

Jasrylle sighed loudly and sat down on my bed with a thud. She groaned when she realized how hard it was, then shot me an annoyed look.

“How was I supposed to know you were this stiff? I thought I could at least teach you the basics! But at this rate, no one will be charmed, they’ll just laugh because a dancing post showed up in front of them,” she said, making me frown even more.

I rubbed my temples again, trying to calm down. “Can’t you really find me a different kind of job? You know how badly I need it, Jasrylle. Thirdy’s medicine is running out, and I’ll be picking him up from Auntie’s house the day after tomorrow. That means more expenses again. I can skip meals, but I can’t let Thirdy go hungry when he comes home.”

“Then maybe just leave him with your aunt—”

“Jasrylle.” My voice came out sharper than intended, and I gave her a glare. She immediately shut her mouth and raised her hands in a peace sign. I shook my head. “It’s already a huge help that Auntie takes care of Thirdy sometimes, even bringing him along to sell at the market. I know it’s hard for her to juggle work and keep an eye on him, so I don’t want to take advantage of her kindness.”

She crossed her arms and raised a brow. “Then what’s your plan now, huh? Your salary as a waitress barely covers your rent. The dishwashing job pays for your daily needs. And your tutoring gig at Mrs. Cruz’s house? That goes straight to the water and electric bills. That’s everything. It might work if you were alone, but with Thirdy…”

“That’s why I need to work harder,” I said firmly, letting out a long sigh. “That’s why I’m asking for your help. If you’re earning seven thousand pesos a day, that amount could really help me and my brother. It would be more than enough for both of us, and for his medicine.”

“You know, it’s you I’m really worried about. You’ll probably die before Thirdy does if you keep pushing yourself like this. Be honest, do you even sleep? How many hours?”

I didn’t answer. Because honestly, I didn’t know. I lost count of how many nights I’d gone without sleep. But if I stopped working, who else would feed me and my brother?

We lost our parents early. After finishing high school, I couldn’t afford college, so I started working right away. I had no one else to depend on but myself, and I had to take care of Thirdy. He has a mental condition; his mind is still that of a child. I could never just leave him. Everything I do is for him.

When I met Gab, I thought he’d be the one to pull us out of poverty. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I fell for him, because he was rich. Hypocritical, I know. But can you blame me for clinging to hope? It’s not my fault I was born poor, or that I have to work day and night just to survive.

I really believed he was my chance at a better life. But instead, I sank even deeper into debt. I worked through my pregnancy because Gab refused to support me. I needed money for daily expenses and Thirdy’s medicine. By the time I gave birth, I had nothing left, and a mountain of debt.

Life’s a damn joke sometimes.

“At least we have food,” I muttered, avoiding Jasrylle’s eyes.

She sighed, stood up again, and faced the mirror. “Alright, let’s go. Move those hips! It’s already late, so don’t be picky. If you don’t pass the test later, there’s nothing we can do,” she said, swaying her hips to the music.

I exhaled heavily and copied her moves. We couldn’t have been more different, she danced with ease, while I moved awkwardly like a stiff robot. But whatever. What mattered was getting the job, earning money, and buying Thirdy’s medicine. For him—and for me—I had to do this.

**

“Are you here to dance in my bar, or to do stand-up comedy?”

I froze mid-step when I heard the woman known as “Mamita” speak. Her brows were furrowed, her disapproval obvious. I immediately straightened up.

“Mamita, please give her a chance,” Jasrylle pleaded. “She just learned to dance today, but she’s improving! I swear, I’ll train her every day until she gets better.” She looped her arm around Mamita’s and gave her a wide smile.

Mamita gave her a cold look before turning back to me. Her eyes swept from my head down to my toes, and I quickly pulled down the hem of the shorts Jasrylle lent me, they were far too short for comfort.

“There are plenty of applicants out there—better dancers, prettier too. Think, Jasrylle. You can’t fool me with flattery; the answer’s no,” she said sharply before fixing her gaze on me again. “Try applying somewhere else… though I doubt anyone would hire you dancing like that. Such a waste, you’re pretty. Wouldn’t you rather—”

“Mamita!” Jasrylle quickly interrupted before she could finish. “My friend’s not into that kind of work. She just wants to dance, that’s all.”

Her boss snorted and crossed her arms. “Dignity won’t feed your family, hija,” she said before walking away.

Jasrylle followed after her, probably to plead her case again, leaving me alone in the small office. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes tightly as I tried to calm my nerves. It was clear I wasn’t getting the job.

After several minutes of waiting, I decided to leave. All that practice had gone to waste. I should’ve just stayed at the restaurant to work overtime instead.

But before I could reach the door, it swung open, and my eyes widened at the sight of a familiar face.

What was she doing here? Someone like her didn’t belong in a place like this.

“Doctor Vallero?”

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