The Surrogate for My Don

Julia smiled sweetly. "Maria, I hope I'm not intruding. I'll be a great roommate."

I looked at her. This woman. The biological mother of the child in my womb. Moving into my home.

My heart was bleeding.

Was Victor doing this so she could bond with "our" baby early? So she could watch me, make sure the surrogate didn't mess up?

"Of course you're not intruding," my voice was terrifyingly calm. "Welcome, Julia."

"Actually..." Julia said in a delicate voice. "I think the suite next to the master bedroom would be best. That way, if Maria needs anything during the night, I can be right there to help."

The suite next to the master.

The best room in the house besides our own. The one with a private jacuzzi and a sea-view balcony.

She wanted to be as close as possible.

"I think..." I forced another smile. "Someone of her status deserves the best."

Victor nodded, pleased.

"You're so thoughtful, Maria," Julia said, a flash of victory in her eyes. "We're going to be the best of friends."

Friends?

Me and my husband's mistress?

Me and the woman who stole my womb?

"I look forward to it," I said.

The next day, Victor left on business. The huge mansion was empty except for me and Julia.

"Maria, darling." Julia floated down the stairs in a Chanel suit I'd never seen. "I think we should talk."

"About what?"

"About the baby," she said, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "My baby. The one you’re borrowing my womb to carry."

I gripped my teacup.

"It's my baby, too. I'm the one carrying him."

Julia laughed. "Sweetheart, you're just the vessel. A walking, talking incubator. Nothing more."

She walked toward me, her eyes full of contempt.

"Do you know why Victor chose you? Because you're stupid. You're obedient. And you're... cheap."

Every word was a stab to the heart.

"Victor loves me," I retorted weakly.

"Love?" Julia burst out laughing. "He loves me, darling. When he's inside me every night, he's not thinking about you."

I stood up to leave.

Julia grabbed my wrist, her grip like a vise. "Listen here, you little bitch. There is only one mistress of this house, and that's me. You'd better learn your place."

Her nails dug into my skin, drawing blood.

But I held back.

For the baby, I had to.

The next few days were hell.

She instructed the staff to replace my meals with nothing but clear broth. "We have to watch the vessel's weight," she’d announce to the maids, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

She put hair removal cream in my shampoo. I lost a handful of hair.

She told Victor I was emotionally unstable and suggested he restrict me from going out.

Every time, she faked concern.

And I had to endure it all.

Three days later, the fake passport arrived.

Charlotte Evans. Twenty-eight, from Chicago. A nurse.

A clean background. Untraceable.

I hid it under the mattress and waited for my chance.

The chance came sooner than I expected. And it was brutal.

"Maria!" Julia's scream came from downstairs. "You bitch, you broke my necklace!"

I rushed down. She was holding the half-million-dollar diamond necklace. The chain was broken.

"I didn't touch your things."

"Liar!" She lunged at me. "Who else could it be? You're jealous, so you destroyed it!"

"Julia, please, calm down..."

"Calm down? You destroyed my most precious necklace and you tell me to calm down?"

She shoved me, forcing me backward.

"I really didn't..."

"Apologize to me! Get on your knees and apologize!"

We were at the top of the stairs.

Slick marble stairs, covered with an expensive Persian rug.

"Julia, please, I'm pregnant..."

"With MY child!" Her eyes flashed with a mad light. "Maybe... maybe I don't need a surrogate after all!"

Her foot shot out.

My world tilted.

Time stopped.

I saw the vicious satisfaction in her eyes as her lips formed two words: "Goodbye, vessel."

Then I was falling, tumbling down the stairs.

A sharp, ripping pain tore through my belly. I couldn't get air. Then, a warm gush down my legs.

Blood.

Oh God, so much blood.

"Help..." I groaned.

Julia stood at the top of the stairs, dialing her phone. "Quick! Call an ambulance! Maria fell down the stairs!"

Her voice was full of fake panic.

By the time the ambulance arrived, I had lost too much blood. I was fading.

"Patient has severe blood loss, needs surgery now!"

"What about the fetus?"

"Heartbeat is faint, it's not looking good..."

On the way to the operating room, I saw Victor.

His face was pale. His eyes were full of fear for his heir, not for me.

"Doctor, you have to save the baby," he grabbed the doctor's arm. "At any cost."

I closed my eyes.

Amid the chaos of the emergency room, as they prepped me for surgery, I saw my only chance. Fueled by pure terror, I ripped the IV from my arm and ran. Blood soaked through my clothes, but I didn't care. I couldn't go back to that cage. Not ever.

Farther from the hospital, closer to freedom.

I was running for a taxi when my body gave out.

Too much blood loss. The world was going dark.

In the last second before I passed out, I saw a black Rolls-Royce.

A familiar figure stepped out of the car.

"Maria!"