FAZER LOGIN
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.POV: Nora I went to see Aria that evening like Elias said. The penthouse was quieter than I expected. No lawyers, no security visible, just a housekeeper who let me in and pointed toward the living room where Elias was on the floor with Aria between his legs, stacking soft blocks and knocking them down every time she reached for them. She was laughing. The kind of laugh that comes from somewhere whole and uncomplicated, the laugh of a child who has no idea how many adults have fought over her existence. I stood in the doorway and watched them and felt something move through me that was not simple enough to name. Elias looked up. He didn't say anything, just moved slightly to make space, and I sat on the floor a few feet away and Aria looked at me with the focused assessment she always used when reestablishing recognition, and then she held out a block in my direction. I took it. She laughed again. We sat like that for a while, the three of us on the floor, and I thought about so
POV: Nora The results came on a Tuesday. Marsh's associate called me at eight in the morning with the clinical efficiency of someone delivering information rather than news, which was the right approach because the information was the kind that needed to land without softening around it. The DNA panel confirmed Elias Moretti as Aria's biological father. Marcus Wolfe had no biological claim. The fertility clinic records, now formally entered into the court record, documented the sample switch with enough supporting detail that no counter-argument had survived contact with the judge. I said thank you and ended the call and sat at my kitchen table and looked at the wall for a while. I had known this was coming. I had known it since the cabinet in Elias's study, since the pale blue folder with the clinic's logo, since Elias had stood in my hotel room and confirmed it without flinching. Knowing had not prepared me for the specific weight of it becoming official. A result on a document,
POV: Nora I didn't plan to go. I had been thinking about it for four days without deciding, turning it over the way you turn over something that has sharp edges, carefully, from a distance. Sera thought it was unnecessary. Chen thought it was unwise. Marsh's associate had no opinion on it because I hadn't told her. In the end I went because of Aria. The custody hearing was in three days and Marcus's remand status complicated the legal picture considerably. His lawyers were arguing that remand was not equivalent to conviction, that his bond with Aria was documented and genuine, that separating a nine-month-old from her primary caregiver during an active legal proceeding required more justification than a pending charge. The arguments were not without merit. I needed to understand what Marcus intended to say about Aria's future before I walked into that hearing. And understanding what Marcus intended required talking to Marcus, which required going to the facility where he was bein
POV: Nora I didn't watch the arrest. I was in the corridor when Chen came back through the courtroom door with Marcus between her and the second officer, his lawyers two steps behind in the tight frustrated movement of people whose professional response had been outpaced by events. I was sitting in the chair beside the retired nurse with Wren in my arms and I looked up when they came through and Marcus looked at me and neither of us said anything. He didn't look broken yet. That came later, I imagined. Right now he looked like a man processing the gap between what he had known was possible and what was actually happening, the specific expression of someone whose calculated risk has resolved against them. The lawyers were already on their phones before they reached the end of the corridor. Sera sat down beside me when they were gone. She put her hand over mine on the armrest, not saying anything, just there, and I sat with Wren and breathed and let the fourteen months of building
POV: Nora My daughter was born at four seventeen in the morning. Seven pounds, two ounces, entirely healthy, with her father's dark hair and what the nurse said were my eyes, though I couldn't see it yet. She arrived with the particular determination that I had been feeling from the inside for months and she cried immediately and loudly and the sound of it undid something in my chest that I hadn't known was held together with temporary materials. I named her Wren. William's middle name had been Ren, an abbreviated family name from his mother's side. Wren was close enough to carry it and its own thing entirely, which felt right for someone who deserved to be entirely her own thing. I was in the hospital for two days. Sera visited the first morning. Vincent came the second afternoon, which surprised me, and sat with Wren in the careful way of someone who is not accustomed to infants and is determined to manage correctly, and told me the custody hearing had been scheduled for the fol
POV: Nora I told the nurse before I told either of them. She was the right person to tell, the one with the clinical training and the immediate practical response, and she confirmed what I already knew with a brief assessment and a calm that I found genuinely useful. Early labor, she said. Regular intervals, building. Given the day I'd had and the stress levels and the fact that I was a week from my due date, not surprising. She wanted me admitted. I asked her to give me ten minutes. She looked at me with the expression of someone who wanted to argue and had decided I was not a person who would respond well to it. "Ten minutes," she said. "Then I'm coming back." I went to find Marcus and Elias. They were in the family waiting area at the end of the corridor, which I had not arranged and which had apparently happened organically while I was with the nurse, meaning two men who had been on a dock together three hours ago had ended up in a small room waiting for information about a
POV: Nora The follow request disappeared by morning. Either whoever sent it deleted it, or it had been a test to see if I was watching. Either way it was gone, and Elias spent two hours trying to trace the account before concluding it had been created and wiped from a device that left nothing use
POV: Nora I moved from the bathroom to the bedroom closet in the four seconds between hearing Jade's heels cross the living room and reach the hallway. It was the only option. The bathroom had no lock on the inside worth anything, and if she opened that door I had nowhere to go and no explanation
POV: Nora The uniform was a black shirt, black trousers, flat shoes. I'd worn more uncomfortable things. The earpiece was small enough that my hair covered it completely, and the two bugs I was carrying were no larger than shirt buttons, adhesive-backed, already activated. Elias had walked me thr
POV: Nora The injunction didn't go through. Elias's legal team moved faster, filed a counter-response within six hours, and by the following morning it had been blocked on procedural grounds. I read the summary email three times, not because I didn't understand it but because I needed to feel it







