The Surrogate Contract With The Ruthless Billionaire
In a great need to save her mother, who was dying, Ava agrees to become a surrogate for a billionaire couple. The plan seemed so simple to Ava: carry the child, get paid, and walk away.
When she thought the deal was over, she received shocking news about Vivian, the children's mother. She has died in a tragic accident.
Caught in a whirlwind of loss and responsibility, Ava finds herself stuck in the home of the ruthless billionaire Nicholas Williams. He blames her for everything and clarifies to Ava that she's staying to care for the kids.
What happens when love comes knocking on the heart of this ruthless billionaire? Whose plan was to make life miserable for her?
What if Vivian's death wasn't an accident?
What if Ava was never meant to leave?
And what happens when the truth finally comes out? Will love prevail?
This is a story of heartbreak, secrets, and unexpected love that tries to bloom in the darkest places.
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Chapter 8
Nicholas didn't move. He just stood there, rigid, his jaw tight, his hand still gripping the edge of the table.
The light from the hallway caught half his face, sharp enough to show every line of strain and anger.
Yet, for the first time, his silence didn't feel loud. It felt suffocating.
His silence wasn't waiting for a storm to come. It was the storm itself.
He hadn't spoken since the phone call with the authorities ended.
"Nicholas," I whispered, standing behind him, with my arms folded to steady my trembling hands.
"Say something... please."
He turned slowly, and when his eyes locked with mine, I wished he hadn't.
They had no softness in them, only fury.
"You think a blanket can erase what you did?"
His voice came very low, calculated, yet bitter enough to break me.
"Do you even understand what this is to me?"
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. No words came.
"I didn't plan for this. I didn't ask for the triplets to-"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence or say the word 'missing' again like it's casual. Like they're misplaced documents. They are children. My children," he voiced out, harsh and sudden.
"And they're mine too!" I shot back without thinking.
His eyes fluttered.
Once, Twice. Shocked, I couldn't help but confront him.
I regretted it immediately.
"No, Ava," he said with a bitter laugh.
"You were a womb, a temporary vessel".
"That was the contract, wasn't it?"
"You weren't supposed to feel anything but now you're here, emotionally invested yet irresponsible enough to walk away and leave my kids vulnerable to God knows what."
"I went out for forty-five minutes!" I yelled.
"I left them with someone you approved! A licensed nanny! I didn't dump them in the woods!"
"Don't twist this," he said, grinding his teeth as he spoke.
"This isn't about your damn errands; this is about your judgment. I entrusted you, I gave you space in my house. In their lives. You held them, fed them, smiled at them, yet you failed them in the most crucial moment."
The words landed heavy, stronger than any slap.
My voice broke.
"You think I don't feel guilty? You think I'm not dying inside every second, wondering where they are, if they're crying, if they're cold, if they're alive?"
He stared at me for a long time.
"I think you always find a way to make their pain about you."
Then he walked past me, down the hall, and into the study, slamming the door shut.
And just like that, I couldn't hold back the sob in my throat anymore.
I dropped to the ground onto the cold marble, knees to my chest, then pressed my hands against my ears, trying to shut out the sound of his words replaying like a cruel song.
"A womb. A temporary vessel."
God.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was just a contract.
But my heart didn't get the memo.
I cared so deeply it felt like my chest would break.
***
The next morning was unnaturally quiet.
The house had never felt so empty, no crying, no giggles, no tiny footsteps echoing down the hallway.
The kids room door remained closed.
Nicholas hadn't come out of his study.
Not once.
The staff walked on eggshells, and the air in the house was thick with fear and guilt.
The police returned with updates, but nothing conclusive.
No ransom calls, no camera footage, no witnesses. Nothing.
Like they vanished into thin air.
And the silence between Nicholas and me turned into a wall I couldn't climb, no matter how I tried.
Still, I tried.
I knocked on his study door. "Nicholas... please. Just talk to me."
No answer.
I left him food, water, and updates, but he never responded.
By the third day, I stopped trying.
But on the fourth, he surprised me.
I was on the couch, flipping through old photos of the triplets, my chest ached, every picture was a wound reopening when he entered the room.
He looked tired.
Rough, hair messy, shirt rumpled, and eyes hollow, like the light inside him had been stolen overnight.
He said nothing for a few seconds.
Then he whispered, "Have you eaten today?"
I nodded, surprised.
"Liar," he said softly.
Then sat across from me.
"I thought you were done with me," I said quietly, trying not to fall for the slight softness in his tone.
"I am done with you. But I'm not done with them," he said.
"And right now, you're the only one who might still know anything that could help."
His words burned, but I understood.
I sat straighter.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything, every phone call, every place you went, every interaction you had this week. I want to know which nanny you spoke to, and who she let into the house. What was the last time she saw them? I want every detail, no matter how small."
I let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Okay."
I told him everything, every damn thing I could recall. Even things I didn't think mattered.
Nicholas scribbled notes, eyes sharp and focused.
"I'll have them back," he whispered under his breath.
"Even if I have to rip the world apart."
The fire in his voice made something inside me ache.
The Nicholas I once feared wasn't cruel, he was simply a man who had lost too much to risk losing more.
Just then, his phone buzzed.
A text.
He read it.
His jaw clenched.
"What is it?" I asked.
He stood slowly, turning the screen to show me.
Private Number:
"You took something from me. Now I've taken something from you. I hope you enjoy the fun. Don't forget your time is ticking. Tick, tick."
I went cold all over.
Nicholas froze, staring at the message with eyes wide like he'd seen a ghost.
Then he whispered, "This isn't random..."
"What do you mean?"
His lips pressed together.
"I have enemies, Ava. Enemies that smile in boardrooms and strike in shadows. Someone wants revenge, and they're using the only leverage I have left."
I stood too.
"You think someone you wronged took them?"
He nodded once.
And then?
He looked me dead in the eyes and said
"And now you will help me get them back- whatever it costs."
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7.2
Blurb:
They said loving him would ruin her, and they were right.
Adrianna never meant to fall for Xavier Palmer, the cold, untouchable billionaire whose name alone could silence a room. He was dangerous, controlling, and completely out of her world.
But the moment he claimed her as his, there was no escape.
What started as a forced bond quickly turned into something far more dangerous. Obsession and possession, a love so intense it blurred the line between protection and destruction.
Then everything shattered.
A brutal accident leaves Adrianna fighting for her life... and Xavier drowning in guilt, rage, and a darkness no one has ever seen before. While she lies unconscious, he hunts for the truth behind the attack, unaware that betrayal is closer than he thinks.
When Adrianna finally wakes up, nothing is the same.
Secrets have been buried, a child has been lost, and enemies are closing in.
But Xavier has made one thing clear.
He will destroy anyone who dares touch what belongs to him, even if it means becoming the monster she fears.
Even if it means losing her forever.
7.7
Kael Ravyn was born to rule, a powerful Alpha with a rare bloodline that even the strongest enemies coveted. But a lifetime ago, his father's desperate act to save him left Kael powerless, his wolf suppressed, his destiny stolen. Now, with the pack growing impatient and his throne threatened, he has three months to reclaim his power... or lose everything.
Aria has always believed the world was ordinary. With her mother gone and her father hiding secrets of a supernatural past, she's never imagined a life beyond what she can see and touch. Until the night of a billionaire's birthday party changes everything.
In the glimmering lights of wealth and power, Kael and Aria meet for the first time-and the instant pull between them is undeniable. Neither understands it, yet the bond of mates awakens something dangerous, something powerful... and something that could cost them both more than they ever imagined.
8.9
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.
7.6
For seventeen years, I was the pride of the Carlisle family, the perfect daughter destined to inherit an empire. But that life ended the moment a DNA report slid across my father’s mahogany desk.
The paper proved I was a stranger. Vanessa, the girl sobbing in the corner, was the real biological daughter they had been searching for.
"You need to leave. Tonight. Before the press gets wind of this. Before the stock prices dip."
My father’s voice was as cold as flint. My mother wouldn't even look at me, staring out the window at the gardens as if I were already a ghost. Just like that, I was erased. I left behind the Birkin bags and the diamonds, throwing my Centurion Card into a crystal bowl with a clatter that echoed like a gunshot. I walked out into the cold night and climbed into a rusted Ford Taurus driven by a man I had never met—my biological father.
I went from a mansion to a fourth-floor walk-up in Queens that smelled of laundry detergent and struggle. My new siblings looked at me with a mix of fear and disgust, waiting for the "fallen princess" to break. They expected me to beg for my old life back, to crumble without the luxury I’d known since birth.
But they didn't know the truth. I had spent years training in a shark tank, honing survival skills they couldn't imagine. While Richard Carlisle froze my trust funds to starve me out, my net worth was climbing by millions on an encrypted trading app.
They thought they were throwing me to the wolves. They didn't realize they were just letting me off my leash. As the Carlisles prepared to debut Vanessa at the Manhattan Arts Gala, I was already making my move.
"Get dressed. We're going to a party."
8.9
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.
8.2
The $50 million lawsuit notice on my phone screen was a violent, pulsing red. My father’s corporate espionage had finally caught up to us, and he was ready to throw me to the wolves to save his own skin.
To survive, I signed a contract marriage with the predator himself—Alaric Hunter, the very man currently dismantling my family’s legacy.
But the moment we left City Hall, my father turned into a monster. He called the hospital and canceled the private care for my dying mother, moving her to a miserable state ward just to break my spirit for "disobeying" him.
"I will find the money," I hissed, even as my throat threatened to close from the paralyzing stress.
"You’ll come crawling back when that monster dumps you!" my father roared, leaving me standing in the rain with nothing but a battered suitcase.
My ex-boyfriend, the man who actually falsified the documents that framed me, mocked me from his Ferrari, while Alaric’s own business rivals planted hidden cameras in our new penthouse to watch our every move. I was a legal shield, a corporate asset, and a target all at once.
I didn't understand why Alaric was suddenly paying my mother’s medical bills in secret or why he looked at me with such chilling intensity. Was I just a tool for his voting shares, or was he the only person in this city who actually wanted me safe?
I looked at the files Alaric left on the marble counter, filled with evidence against everyone who had ever hurt me. I was done being the victim of a hostile takeover; it was time to show them what happens when a Hunter’s wife decides to start hunting.