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What Isabel needed was a man with two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to spare.
That’s all. Not love. Not a boyfriend. Not a knight in shining armor. Just a man with that kind of money who could save her brother’s life. Daniel had done the worst now, his gambling addiction was already a problem in her twenty-four year old life, but he had taken it to the extreme now and they were after his life. He was the only family she had left and she was not willing to risk his life for anything. She rubbed her hands together, standing in front of the sleek glass building Mercy had told her about. It didn’t even have a name on the front, just silver doors and mirrored windows and the kind of silence that said whatever happens in here, doesn’t leave here. Her phone buzzed in her hand. It was a text from Mercy, her best friend since she was in high school. *You’re there?* Isabel sighed and typed back quickly. *Yeah. I’m scared.* *Don’t be. Just go in. They’ll take care of you.* Yeah. That was easy for Mercy to say. Mercy wasn’t the one about to sign her entire body away. With a deep breath, Isabel walked in. The place didn’t look like a clinic. It looked like a luxury hotel. The floors were white marble, there was soft music playing somewhere, and the receptionist smiled like she knew everything. “Name?” she asked. “Isabel Manor. I, um, Mercy told me to come. She said… about the surrogate program.” The woman’s smile didn’t falter. “Yes. Please follow me.” Just like that, no clipboard and no waiting. Isabel followed the woman down a long hallway, past a few doors that looked too expensive to be anything medical. They stopped in front of a dark wood door. “You’ll meet with Dr. Hale first,” the woman said, knocking once before pushing it open. A man in a grey suit looked up from behind the desk. “Miss Manor. Please, sit.” She sat slowly. “So… is this where I get to ask questions?” Dr. Hale smiled. “I imagine you have many. But first, I need you to understand, we’re not a traditional surrogate program. We’re private and discreet. Every agreement here is handled with confidentiality, you will sign NDAs, there will be background checks, psychological evaluations and once matched, you will be expected to live with the intended father for the duration of the pregnancy.” Isabel’s mouth fell open. “Live with him?” Mercy had certainly left that part out. “Yes.” “That’s… extreme.” “It’s a condition. The men who come here are not average men. They are high-net-worth individuals. Privacy and control matter to them. In return, you are compensated generously.” Isabel swallowed hard. “How much?” “Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Tax-free. All living expenses covered with immediate relocation, health insurance, medical care, security, anything you need.” She blinked. That was the number. Her brother’s life. Right there. “I’ll do it.” * Isaac Dun didn’t like delays. He liked contracts, numbers, clean deals and most of all, he liked silence. But here he was, being told that the woman had arrived and was waiting to meet him. “Bring her up,” he said. He looked at himself in the mirror briefly. Dark hair, sharp jawline, tailored navy shirt that made his tan skin look even darker. He could pass as someone warm and kind but Isaac had no intention of being kind. Not anymore, not since his ex-wife took him to court, stripped him for everything he had, and married a rich politician two weeks later. Now? Now he just wanted a child. No attachments with no strings, no attachment and no women whispering promises and planning betrayal. He wanted a womb and silence and apparently, her name was Isabel Manor. The elevator dinged and he turned around as she walked in. She had big eyes, full lips, a soft but guarded look on her face like she had seen too much but still wanted to look strong. She didn't look like the type of woman to be doing something like this. Her dress was plain, her hair pulled back, pretty, but in a real way. He didn’t smile. “You’re Isabel.” She nodded. “Yes. You’re…?” “Isaac Dun.” He walked over. “We’ll keep this short. I read your file, you pass all criteria, you have no criminal background, no health issues, no drugs and no children of your own.” She shifted her weight. “Do I get to ask anything or...?” “You can ask one thing.” She blinked. “Just one?” “Yes. Choose wisely.” Her lips parted in surprise, then pressed into a line. “Why are you doing this?” He looked her right in the eyes. “Because I want a child and I want nothing to do with the mother once it’s born. You’ll carry the baby, live in my home, follow the doctors’ instructions and once the baby is born, you’ll leave. There will be no visits, no contact and no second thoughts. You get your money, and I get my child. That’s it.” She stared at him. He wasn’t ugly. In fact, he was probably the most dangerously attractive man she’d ever seen. But something about him felt… closed. Like whatever softness he once had was buried ten feet under. She felt like a contrast to him with her ginger hair, pale skin and freckle stained face. “And if I say no?” she asked quietly. “Then we don’t waste time. You walk away, and I call the next name on the list.” She hesitated for only a second. She thought about her brother and how she was willing to go this far. She closed her eyes at first and then reopened them to meet his gaze. “I’ll do it.” “Good,” he walked past her and picked up his phone. “Have her bags picked up. She’s moving in today.” Her eyes widened as she hurried to where he stood, “today?!”Isabel gasped when he rolled them over, her back hitting the mattress again, still wrapped around him. “Isaac,” she breathed, her hands flying to his chest, her legs twitching from the overstimulation. He didn’t pull out. His eyes stayed on hers, dark and half-lidded, his breathing shallow. His hands gripped her hips tighter. “You said not to stop,” he muttered. She swallowed hard. “I thought you came.” “I did,” he said, dragging his lips over her jaw, “and I’m still hard.” Her body clenched around him involuntarily. He felt it, cursed under his breath, and pushed in again, slower this time, but deeper. Her nails scraped down his arms. “It’s too much.” “No, it’s not.” His hands slid under her thighs and lifted her legs higher, folding her slightly as he thrust in again. Her mouth dropped open with a moan she couldn’t stop. “I can feel how wet you still are,” he murmured. “You’re not done.” He pulled out almost entirely, then slammed back in with a force that
His cock slid in slowly, stretching her open, inch by inch. Isabel gasped, her nails sinking into his shoulders, thighs clenching tighter around his waist. Her eyes fluttered shut, but the sound that left her mouth was desperate and raw. “Look at me,” Isaac muttered, lips brushing hers. She forced her eyes open, chest rising fast. “Don’t stop.” His jaw clenched. He pushed the rest of the way in, burying himself deep. Her body arched up against his, her breath catching with the sharp, stinging fullness that spread through her. “Fuck, Isabel,” he whispered, gripping her hip with one hand while the other braced by her head. She didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her mouth parted around a moan that never fully came out, just shaky breaths and her legs trembling around him. He stayed there for a second, buried to the hilt, eyes locked on hers. Then he pulled back slowly and thrust in again, deeper. Her hands flew to his back, fingers digging in as she whimpered. “You missed this,”
“You’re still not saying stop,” Isaac muttered against her mouth. Isabel gripped his shirt tighter, breath hot against his. “Don’t act like you don’t want this.” He kissed her again, harder this time, both hands sliding under her shirt, palms moving up her back. Her bra unclasped without warning. She gasped when the cold air hit her skin, but then his hands were there, cupping her, thumbs brushing over her nipples. Her head dropped back with a sharp inhale. “We shouldn’t.” “You already are,” he breathed. Their mouths crashed again. It was all teeth and tongue, breathless and uneven. She tugged his shirt up, hands fumbling with the buttons she was too impatient to undo properly. “Take it off,” she snapped. He pulled it over his head and tossed it. Her hands were all over his chest, nails dragging down, fingers sliding over every inch of skin she used to know by heart. He yanked her shirt over her head next, threw her bra to the floor, and wrapped both arms around her,
“Let me go,” Isabel snapped, pulling at his grip as he dragged her through the lobby and into the elevator. “Isaac, I swear, I will scream.” “Go ahead,” he said, jaw tight, eyes fixed forward. “I am not letting you walk away again.” She pushed at his arm but he did not budge. Her ankle ached from the movement. The elevator doors opened into his penthouse and he yanked her inside, closing the door behind them. “Stop touching me,” she hissed. “I mean it.” He turned suddenly and pushed her back against the wall. His chest pressed against hers, bodies flush, his breath hitting her cheek. She tried to push him away but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. “I cannot believe you went and married,” he said, his voice low and angry, eyes searching her face. “You actually married someone else.” She shoved against his grip, her chest rising fast. “You married Vera,” she fired back. “Do not stand here acting betrayed.” “That is not the same,” he barked, leaning clo
“Mommy!” Mia ran straight into her arms, giggling as Isabel bent to catch her. Zack followed close behind, waving. “You came!” “Of course I did,” Isabel said, smiling softly. “Let’s go.” Kian helped hold the nursery door open. “Hey guys,” he said, smiling at the twins. Mia blinked up at him. “Who’s that?” “He’s a friend,” Isabel said quickly. “He helped mommy today.” Kian raised a hand. “Hi. I’m Kian.” Zack tilted his head. “You look like a doctor.” Isabel let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Because he is one.” The ride back was mostly quiet, the twins humming in the back seat while Isabel stared out the window. Her fingers stayed curled against her thigh the entire ride. Her ankle still throbbed, but her chest felt worse. Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was Isaac’s face, the fury, the disbelief, the way he looked when she said the word husband. “Here,” Kian said, handing her a small card. “That’s my number. Clinic and personal.” She took it s
Isaac’s arms were locked around her, lifting her like she weighed nothing. Isabel hit his chest again, breath shaking hard. “Put me down. I am serious. Put me down right now.” “Let me go!” She struggled harder, her hand pushing his jaw, her nails dragging across his shoulder. “I said let go!” A voice cut through the air. “Hey!” Footsteps rushed toward them. “Where the fuck are you taking her?” Isaac turned his head, eyes sharp. “Who the hell are you?” The man stopped in front of them. Tall, rough beard, hoodie on, grocery bag in one hand like he just came from the corner shop. His eyes went from Isabel to Isaac, then back. “I am talking to you,” the man said. “Put her down.” Isaac’s whole body changed the second the guy spoke because the bastard has popped out of nowhere. His face went hard, his jaw grinding, arms tightening around Isabel. He stepped forward with his shoulders squared,. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” He looked like he was one second away fr







