Bred for Betrayal

Nora's POV

"Push, Miss Ashford. One more push."

The doctor's voice sounds like it's coming from underwater. Everything hurts. My body doesn't feel like mine anymore. It hasn't for nine months, but right now, it feels like I'm being split in half.

I grip the hospital bed rails and push. A scream tears out of my throat.

"Good, good. I can see the head. Keep going."

The fluorescent lights above me are too bright. I squeeze my eyes shut and push again. Somewhere to my left, I hear Jade's voice. High-pitched. Fake-crying.

"Oh my God, Marcus. Our baby. Our baby is almost here."

Our baby. The words make my stomach turn, but I don't have time to think about it because another contraction rips through me and I'm pushing again, harder this time, and then suddenly there's release. Pressure gone. Emptiness.

A baby's cry fills the room.

My baby.

No. Not mine. Never mine.

I open my eyes, trying to catch my breath. The doctor moves quickly, holding a tiny, wriggling thing covered in blood and white stuff. I try to sit up, try to see her face, but my body won't cooperate.

"Is she okay?" My voice comes out scratchy. Desperate. "Can I hold her?"

Nobody answers me.

The nurses surround the warming table in the corner. I can hear the baby crying, strong and healthy, and relief floods through me even though my arms ache with emptiness.

"Mr. Wolfe, would you like to cut the cord?"

Marcus's voice is smooth. Professional. Like he's closing a business deal. "Of course."

I turn my head and there he is. Tall, perfectly composed in his tailored black suit like he didn't just watch me push a human being out of my body. His ice-blue eyes are fixed on the baby, not on me. They haven't been on me this entire time.

Nine months. Nine months of him treating me like a walking incubator. Nine months of cold instructions and medical appointments and him looking through me like I'm glass.

Jade rushes past my bed, her heels clicking on the floor. She's wearing a cream-colored dress that probably costs more than my rent. Was worth more than my rent before I got evicted. Her blonde hair is perfect. Her makeup is perfect. She looks like she's going to a photo shoot, not a delivery room.

"Let me see her. Let me see my baby girl."

The nurse smiles at her. At Jade. Not at me.

I watch as they clean the baby, weigh her, wrap her in a pink blanket. My daughter. Except she's not. The contract made that very clear. I'm just the vessel. The carrier. The help.

"Seven pounds, four ounces," the nurse announces. "Perfectly healthy."

Jade claps her hands together. "Oh, she's beautiful. Marcus, look at her. She has your eyes."

I wouldn't know. I still haven't seen her face.

The doctor comes back to me, starts working on delivering the placenta. I barely feel it. Everything below my waist is numb from the epidural, but everything above is screaming.

"Can I hold her?" I ask again. Quieter this time. "Just for a second?"

The nurse holding the baby looks at Marcus. Actually looks at him for permission.

He doesn't even glance my way. "That won't be necessary. We'll take her now."

My chest tightens. I knew this was coming. I signed the papers. I agreed to all of it. But some stupid part of me thought maybe they'd let me hold her once. Just once.

"Mr. Wolfe," the doctor says carefully, "it's actually beneficial for the baby to have immediate skin-to-skin contact with the birth mother. It helps regulate her temperature and heart rate."

"Miss Rivers will provide that contact," Marcus says. His tone leaves no room for argument. "She's the mother."

Jade is already reaching for the baby, making cooing sounds. The nurse hesitates for just a second, then hands her over.

I watch Jade hold my daughter. Her face is doing this expression that's probably supposed to be tender, but it looks practiced. Like she's rehearsed it in a mirror. She's not even looking at the baby's face. She's looking at Marcus.

"We did it, baby," she says to him. "We're parents."

Something inside me cracks.

The doctor finishes up between my legs. A nurse comes over to check my vitals, speaking in a soft voice about recovery and bleeding and stitches. I don't hear most of it. I can't stop staring at the corner of the room where Marcus and Jade stand over the baby.

Jade is holding her all wrong. Too stiff. The baby's head isn't supported properly.

"You should adjust your arm," I say. My voice sounds hollow. "Her neck needs more support."

Jade doesn't even look at me. Marcus does though. Finally. His eyes meet mine for the first time in hours and there's nothing in them. No warmth. No gratitude. Nothing.

"We'll figure it out, Miss Ashford. Thank you for your service."

Thank you for your service. Like I'm a waitress who brought him coffee.

The nurse next to me touches my shoulder. "You did amazing. Do you need anything for pain?"

I need to hold my baby. I need to scream. I need to turn back time nine months and rip up that contract before I signed it.

"I'm fine," I whisper.

I'm not fine.

Jade is whispering something to Marcus now, too quiet for me to hear. He nods, then takes the baby from her. I watch him hold his daughter, not mine, never mine, and something shifts in his expression. It's quick. Almost imperceptible. But for just a second, he looks almost human.

Then Jade loops her arm through his and the moment's gone.

"We should take her to the nursery," Jade says. "Get her cleaned up properly. I want pictures for I*******m."

I*******m. She wants I*******m pictures.

I close my eyes. This is fine. This is what I agreed to. One hundred thousand dollars to carry their baby because Jade couldn't, or wouldn't, ruin her figure. One hundred thousand dollars to pay off the debts crushing me since Dad died. One hundred thousand dollars to finally breathe again.

Except the money doesn't matter now. Nothing matters except the fact that a piece of me is being carried out of this room and I'll never get it back.

"Miss Ashford?"

I open my eyes. A different nurse stands beside my bed, older, with kind eyes.

"I'm going to move you to recovery soon. Is there anyone you want me to call? Family? A friend?"

I almost laugh. Family. Dad's dead. Mom left when I was twelve. I don't have siblings. And friends? I had Jade once. Before she became this. Before she met Marcus and turned into someone I don't recognize.

"No," I say. "There's no one."

The nurse's expression softens with pity and I hate it. I don't want pity. I want my baby.

She pats my hand. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take you upstairs. Try to rest."

Rest. Right.

The room empties out. The doctor leaves. The nurses leave. I'm alone with the aftermath. Blood-stained sheets. Medical equipment. The faint smell of antiseptic mixing with something earthier, more primal.

I should feel empty. I just pushed a whole human out of my body. But instead, I feel full. Too full. Like I might burst open from everything I'm not allowed to say or feel or want.

Through the window in the door, I can see into the hallway. Marcus and Jade are out there, standing by the nursery window. He's still holding the baby. She's taking a selfie.

Then Jade turns to him, says something I can't hear, and pulls him down into a kiss.

My breath stops.

It's not a polite kiss. Not a new-parents-celebrating kiss. It's deep. Possessive. His free hand goes to her waist, pulling her closer while he holds the baby in his other arm.

They break apart and Jade is smiling. Really smiling. Not the practiced one from before. Marcus touches her face, gentle in a way I've never seen him be with anyone.

The baby makes a small sound and they both look down at her, then back at each other, and Jade kisses him again.

They've been together the whole time.

The realization hits me like cold water. Not just now. Not just today. The whole time. The entire pregnancy. Maybe even before.

I replay the last nine months in my head. Marcus's coldness toward me. The way Jade was always there at appointments, always touching him, always finding excuses to be close. The way he'd leave rooms when I entered them. The way he never, not once, asked how I was feeling.

Because Jade was his girlfriend. His fiancée, maybe. And I was just the incubator they paid for.

My hands start shaking.

The nurse comes back, moving me to a wheelchair. I let her. I'm numb now. Not from the epidural. From something deeper.

She wheels me past them in the hallway. Jade is holding the baby now, posing for another photo. Marcus has his arm around her shoulders.

Neither of them looks at me.

I'm wheeled into a recovery room. Small. Private. Cold. The nurse helps me into the bed, checks my IV, tells me someone will be by soon with pain medication and instructions for postpartum care.

Postpartum care. Like I'm a real mother.

After she leaves, I stare at the ceiling. White tiles. Water stains in the corner. A small crack running from the light fixture to the wall.

My body aches. My breasts are already getting heavy, preparing to feed a baby I'll never touch. My stomach is deflated and soft and strange. Between my legs, I'm torn and stitched and broken.

But none of that compares to the hollow feeling in my chest.

I didn't think it would hurt this much. I thought I'd prepared myself. I thought signing the contract, keeping my distance emotionally, treating it like a job would make it easier.

I was wrong.

There's a soft knock on the door. I don't bother answering but it opens anyway. A man in a suit walks in. Expensive suit. Lawyer written all over him.

"Miss Ashford," he says, not quite meeting my eyes. "I'm James Chen, legal counsel for Mr. Wolfe. I have some documents for you to sign."

"Now?" My voice sounds far away. "Right now?"

"Mr. Wolfe thought it best to handle the final paperwork while you're still at the hospital. Just a formality. Confirming the birth, releasing all parental rights, finalizing the financial arrangement."

He pulls papers from his briefcase. Sets them on the rolling table next to my bed. Holds out a pen.

I look at the documents. The words swim in front of my eyes. I catch fragments. "Birth mother hereby relinquishes." "No custody." "No visitation." "Final payment upon signature."

Final payment. One hundred thousand dollars. Freedom from debt. A fresh start.

"Where do I sign?" I ask.

He points. I sign. Four different places. My hand shakes but I get through it.

"Thank you, Miss Ashford." He gathers the papers, slides them back into his briefcase. "Someone will be in touch regarding the financial transfer within the next few days. You'll be discharged tomorrow morning. Hospital bills are already covered by Mr. Wolfe, as per the contract."

He's almost out the door when I find my voice again.

"Wait."

He turns back. "Yes?"

"Can I see her? Just once? Before I leave tomorrow?"

His expression doesn't change. Professional. Detached. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Mr. Wolfe was very clear about maintaining boundaries. It's better this way. Cleaner."

Cleaner.

He leaves.

I'm alone again.

The sky outside my window is getting dark. Hours have passed since the delivery but it feels like minutes. Like seconds. Like forever.

A nurse comes in with pain medication. I take it. She asks if I need anything else. I shake my head. She leaves.

The medication makes me drowsy. I fight it at first, but my body is exhausted. Destroyed. I let myself sink into the pillow.

Just before I drift off, I hear them in the hallway again. Jade's laugh. High and bright. Marcus's lower voice responding.

"She's perfect," Jade is saying. "Absolutely perfect. Worth every penny we paid that girl."

Every penny. That's all I am. A transaction. A service rendered. Payment received.

I close my eyes and let the darkness take me.