The Surrogate Contract With The Ruthless Billionaire

I stood in the security room, staring at the security monitors like they had an answer to my problems, but the screens were blank. The person who did this, cut it off and wiped it clean.

Three children, my children. Gone.

The silence in this big house was everywhere, heavy and choking. It was too clean and too peaceful, too quiet to be real. 

This house was meant to be their safe place, but it had now become a goddamn tomb.

And she...oh God, I don't even know what to do with her at this point.

I turned sharply, moving fast almost stumbling in my hurry as I headed for the living room.

She was sitting there like a ghost, her eyes puffy and red, gripping her phone tightly. Her pale face made her look fragile, like a victim.

"You still haven't found them," I said coldly.

Ava, lifted her head up, startled. "I'm trying. I'm not resting until I..."

"No, don't give me that," I snapped. 

"This isn't about trying Ava; this is about failing. You failed the kids Ava."

She stood up, voice trembling. "Nicholas, I didn't take your children. Why would I ever..."

"But you lost them!" I shouted, letting all my frustration spill out, stepping closer. 

"They were supposed to be safe with you. I trusted you. You, of all people, you knew what those triplets meant to me."

Hot tears ran freely down her cheeks, but it only made me angrier because I didn't want her tears; I wanted my kids.

"You told me to stay forcefully," she said quietly, "even though the contract didn't require it. You asked me to raise them, and I do that even against my will. I didn't ask for this, I  never wanted to replace Vivian"

"Don't you dare say her name," I yelled sharply, frustration boiling over, my voice low and deadly. 

"You don't get to use her as your excuse. Not after what happened that night."

She shook her head. "I didn't kill her. I've told you that a thousand times."

"And now you expect me to believe this wasn't your fault, too?" I said, with anger boiling inside me. 

"First Vivian, now the kids? What's next? Are you planning to burn down the house while at it?"

She staggered backward like I had slapped her.

Good. 

Maybe that pain would keep her from forgetting the consequences of her carelessness.

"Why would I ever hurt them?" she whispered, with a trembling voice. "They're a part of me too."

I didn't answer because deep down, a part of me wanted to believe her, but I couldn't risk believing. 

Not now, not when my children are out there, unprotected. Maybe lifeless.

"I swear I didn't take them," she said again, looking wild with fear. "Someone's playing with us. Look"

She showed me her phone-two messages from a private number.

You took something from me. Now it's your turn.

You have until sunrise.

My teeth pressed hard together.

"What is this?" I demanded. 

"When did you get this?"

"A few hours ago," she said, voice small. "I didn't know who to show. I thought..."

"You thought what?" I yelled out. "That you could fix it alone? You would stumble across the triplets like they played their way out somewhere?"

Her lower lip trembled, but she didn't look away.

"Who did you piss off, Ava?" I asked, voice dangerously calm now. 

"Who did you owe, betray, threaten? Because I know this isn't about me. This message is about you."

Her shoulders straightened slowly, her spine hardening under tension. 

"I don't owe anyone. I don't have enemies."

"Then why are you the one getting threats?" I asked. 

"Why is your name tied to a war I didn't ask for?"

"I don't know!" she cried, voice breaking. 

"Maybe it's someone who hates Vivian! Someone from your past!"

I gave a dry empty laugh, cold and humourless. 

"Don't you dare throw my past into this. My enemies go after me, not my children. This..." I pointed at the phone, "...this is personal. And it's aimed at you."

"I've done nothing wrong," She whispered, with a trembling voice and breaking words. "I'm not the enemy here, Nicholas."

"Maybe not." I stepped closer. "But you're the mistake."

***

AVA'S POV

The words cut through me like I had been stabbed with a sharp knife. I stood there, couldn't move and my eyes were filled with hot tears. I refused to let the tears fall again.

He didn't mean something like that. He couldn't. I kept telling myself that just to feel better. But he did.

With my head lower, I knew he meant every syllable.

I didn't care what Nicholas thought of me. Not really, but hearing those words after what I'd endured, giving birth to his children, sacrificing my body, my time, my emotions, staying in a home where I wasn't wanted. 

It broke something in me.

"I stayed because you forced me to," I said, with a low voice. 

"You deprived me of freedom and fucking forced me not to leave."

He didn't answer, his silence screamed louder than anything he could have spoken.

"Vivian's gone," I said, my voice heavy with bitterness. "And you're looking for someone to blame. Fine, I get it, but  you don't get to spit that poison at me every time things go wrong."

He folded his arms, without moving.

My hands curled into fists, the anger burning hotter.  

"You think I wanted this? To be dragged into your cold, empty world? I gave birth in pain. I raised them alone for five years when you were too busy hiding behind grief, and I'm still here, I'm still fighting for them."

Nicholas's jaw ticked. Something dark flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before I could read it.

"Then prove it," he said flatly. 

"Bring them back."

I froze in shock.

And then, I realised: he didn't care about how broken I was. How much I was grieving, too. How much I loved those babies.

He only cared about results.

I turned on my heel and walked away, not because I had nothing more to say, but because if I stayed, I would break down, and I wasn't going to let myself fall apart in front of him.

Not this time.

***

I locked myself in the kids' room.

Their scent was still everywhere, the sweet smell of children's powder, soft lavender lotion, that warm, innocent smell only little kids carried.

I picked up one of their blankets and held it to my chest. The sob broke free from my throat before I could stop it.

My babies.

Gone.

A knock came at the door. Then a voice.

"Madam Ava?"

It was one of the security guards.

I opened the door slowly, wiping my face.

"Yes?"

"We found something by the back gate."

My heart skipped as he led me outside. Everywhere was dark, the sky bleeding soft streaks of purple.

A worn-out bunny plushie lay just beyond the gate under a bush.

I fell to my knees. 

"That's theirs. That's Rita's."

I picked it up, holding it like it was made of glass.

The security man cleared his throat. 

"There's more. We found tire marks. Someone drove through the west side and broke the lock. It wasn't noticed because it was the camera's blind spot."

"Can we trace the tire patterns?" I asked

"We've already started."

Just then, Nicholas appeared behind me. His voice was short and sharp. 

"What did you find?"

I held up the bunny.

He stared at it, then at me. "We're running out of time."

He turned to the security. "Double the staff. Block every road out of town. I want the press shut down." 

"Not a word leaves this compound until I give the order."

"And if they demand answers?" one asked.

"Tell them what I allow, strictly only what I permit," he lashed out. 

"Nothing more."

***

By the time the sun began to rise, I felt like I was older than my age. 

Every hour was a reminder they were still missing, and every minute was another weight crushing my chest.

Nicholas walked back and forth by the windows, his phone pressed tight to his ear. His tie was gone, his shirt wrinkled, but his eyes stayed cold and locked in.

I wanted to hate him for what he said earlier. I should hate him.

But there was something in the way he stared out the window. Something haunted.

"You didn't sleep either?" I asked quietly.

He didn't look at me. "Not until they're back."

I nodded.

Suddenly, the front gate buzzed.

One of the guards rushed in. 

"There's someone at the entrance. A man says he has information."

Nicholas and I exchanged glances.

We followed the guard out.

At the gate stood a man dressed in a delivery uniform. His cap was pulled low over his face.

"Who are you?" Nicholas demanded.

The man didn't answer.

He pulled out a phone, tapped the screen, and held it up.

A video began to play.

It was dark, shaky, but clear enough.

My children.

In a room, leaning against the wall, crying faintly.

My knees gave way, and I grabbed the gate for support.

Nicholas's entire body went stiff.

"What do you want?" he roared.

The man finally looked up. His smile was cruel.

"You'll know soon enough," he said.

Then he turned and drove off.

"Stop him" Nicholas shouted, but the man was already gone, dodging cars until he was out of sight. 

We stood there, breathless after the video had ended and the man left.

But those cries...

They still echoed in my ears.

We were out of time.

And whoever took them had just declared war.