Chapter 5

Nora's POV

The police station smells like burnt coffee and sweat. Detective Chen meets me at the front desk, leads me back to a small interview room with a table and two chairs. She closes the door behind us.

"You look terrible," she says.

"Thanks."

"When's the last time you ate?"

I try to remember. Yesterday? The day before? "I'm fine."

She leaves and comes back with a sandwich from the vending machine and a bottle of water. Sets them in front of me. I want to refuse but my stomach is eating itself so I take them.

"Eat," she says. "Then we'll talk."

The sandwich is stale but I finish it in four bites. The water helps. My head clears a little.

Chen spreads files across the table. Documents. Photos. Printouts. "I went through everything in your father's box. Found correspondence between him and Marcus Wolfe. Threats, mostly veiled as business negotiations. But there's one email that's interesting."

She slides a printout toward me. I read it.

It's from Marcus to my father. Dated three weeks before Dad died.

"Mr. Ashford, I understand you're reluctant to sell. But I think you're underestimating the precariousness of your position. Accidents happen. Companies collapse. People get hurt. I'd hate to see you or your daughter suffer unnecessarily. Reconsider my offer."

My hands shake. "He threatened me. He threatened to hurt me if Dad didn't sell."

"That's how I read it too. But it's vague enough that his lawyers would argue it's just aggressive business talk. We need more."

"What about the journal? Where he says Marcus was stealing from him?"

"It helps. But it's not enough for criminal charges. We need concrete evidence. Witnesses. A paper trail that proves Marcus ordered the hit."

I slump back in the chair. "So what do we do?"

"We keep digging. I've subpoenaed Marcus's business records from that time period. But that'll take weeks, maybe months. In the meantime, I need you to think. Is there anything else? Anyone your father might have confided in? Any enemies Marcus had who might talk?"

I shake my head. "I was barely paying attention back then. I was in college. I didn't know what Dad was dealing with."

Chen's phone buzzes. She checks it, frowns. "I have to take this. Give me a minute."

She steps out. I'm left alone with the files spread across the table. I start flipping through them. More emails. Financial documents. Technical specs I don't understand.

Then I find something. A contract. Not the surrogacy contract. Something older.

It's an NDA. Signed by a woman named Rachel Kemp. Dated two years ago. The terms are similar to mine. No contact. No disclosure. Payment in exchange for silence.

I keep digging. Find another one. Different woman. Melissa Torres. Same terms. Same lawyer signature at the bottom. James Chen, the same guy who served me papers at the hospital.

There are five of them. Five different women. All with NDAs. All paid to stay quiet about something.

Chen comes back in. "Sorry about that. Where were we?"

I show her the contracts. "What are these?"

She looks at them, her expression hardening. "NDAs. Marcus Wolfe has used them extensively over the years. Usually in sexual harassment settlements. Sometimes business disputes."

"Five women in three years?"

"That I know of. Could be more." She takes the papers from me. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I signed one too. Two days ago. After the surrogacy. He paid me five thousand dollars to shut up and disappear."

Chen sits down heavily. "Nora. Why didn't you tell me this?"

"I didn't think it mattered. I was desperate. I needed the money."

"It matters because it's a pattern. Marcus Wolfe doesn't just make problems go away legally. He makes people go away. And you just became a problem." She leans forward. "Listen to me carefully. If Marcus thinks you're a threat, if he thinks you're going to talk or cause trouble, he won't hesitate to destroy you. Or worse."

"He already destroyed me. What else can he do?"

"Plenty. Assault charges from your friend. Harassment charges if you contact him or the baby. He could sue you for breach of contract. Have you arrested. Ruin any chance you have of rebuilding your life." She pauses. "Or he could do what he did to your father."

The room goes cold. "You think he'd kill me?"

"I think he's capable of it. And I think you need to be very, very careful."

I stand up. "Then help me. Give me something I can use against him."

"I'm trying. But these things take time."

"I don't have time. Jade gave me two hours to leave New York or she's pressing charges for assault. That was ninety minutes ago."

Chen swears under her breath. "You hit her?"

"She was laughing about using me. About how I was just an incubator. I snapped."

"Did anyone see it?"

"The whole coffee shop. And she recorded our conversation. Has me on tape accusing Marcus of murder."

"That's not good, Nora. That's really not good."

"I know."

Chen is quiet for a long moment. Then she pulls out her phone, makes a call. "Yeah, it's Chen. I need you to run a name for me. Jade Rivers. Any arrests, complaints, lawsuits. Everything you can find." She waits, listening. "Uh huh. Yeah. Send it to my email. Thanks."

She hangs up. "Jade has three prior complaints. Two for fraud, one for harassment. Nothing stuck but it's a pattern. If she files assault charges, I can probably get them dropped by arguing mutual combat or self-defense. But you need to file a counter-complaint first."

"For what?"

"Emotional distress. Fraud. Whatever we can make stick. It won't hold up long-term but it'll buy you time and make her think twice about pushing this."

"I can't afford a lawyer."

"Legal aid. I'll help you fill out the paperwork." She starts gathering the files. "But first, I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Find those other women. The ones who signed NDAs with Marcus. If even one of them will talk, will go on record about what he did, it strengthens the pattern. Makes it harder for him to claim you're just a disgruntled surrogate making things up."

"How am I supposed to find them?"

"You're resourceful. Figure it out." She hands me a business card. "Call me if you find anything. And Nora? Watch your back."

I leave the station with Chen's card and a head full of information I don't know what to do with. Five women. Five NDAs. Five people Marcus paid off to stay quiet.

I need to find them.

I go back to the shelter. It's daytime so the common room is mostly empty. There's a computer in the corner, old and slow, but it has internet. I sit down and start searching.

Rachel Kemp. The first name on the NDA. I find her on social media in ten minutes. Her profile is private but her bio says she's a marketing consultant in Boston. There's a work email listed.

I send her a message. Keep it vague. "Hi Rachel. My name is Nora Ashford. I'm trying to reach women who've had dealings with Marcus Wolfe of Wolfe Industries. I signed an NDA two years ago and I'm trying to understand the full scope of his business practices. Would you be willing to talk?"

Then I search for Melissa Torres. Harder to find. Common name. But I narrow it down by adding Wolfe Industries to the search and find a LinkedIn profile. She works in tech. San Francisco.

I send her the same message.

Then the other three. Katie Morris. Jennifer Lao. Samantha Cross.

None of them respond immediately. I sit there refreshing my email every thirty seconds like an idiot.

An hour passes. Nothing.

I try a different approach. Search for "Marcus Wolfe NDA" and "Wolfe Industries settlement" and "Marcus Wolfe lawsuit."

Most of what comes up is business news. Acquisitions. Product launches. The usual tech billionaire stuff.

But buried on page six of the search results, I find a forum. Reddit. The thread is two years old.

"Anyone else been screwed over by Wolfe Industries legal team?"

I click on it.

The original poster says they signed a surrogacy contract with a wealthy couple, delivered a healthy baby, and then got screwed out of payment through a "moral breach" clause. The details are vague because of the NDA but it's clearly about Marcus.

The comments are full of similar stories. Not all surrogacy. Some are former employees. One woman who dated Marcus briefly and got paid off when she threatened to go public about his "controlling behavior." Another who worked as a nanny for a wealthy family and got fired without cause, then pressured to sign an NDA.

I scroll through dozens of comments. A pattern emerges. Marcus finds vulnerable people. People who need money. People who won't fight back. He uses them. Then he discards them with an NDA and just enough money to make them go away but not enough to actually help.

One comment stands out. Posted six months ago.

"I was a surrogate for MW. Same story as everyone else here. Promised 100k, got nothing. 'Moral breach' clause. His lawyers destroyed me when I tried to fight it. I'm homeless now. Lost everything. If anyone wants to compare notes, DM me."

The username is BrokenVessel2023.

I create a throwaway account. Send her a message.

"I'm in the same situation. Surrogate for MW. Just delivered two days ago. Got screwed out of payment. Can we talk?"

I hit send and wait.

Five minutes later, my phone buzzes. She responded.

"Holy shit. Are you serious? When did you deliver?"

"Two days ago. You?"

"Eight months ago. Jesus. He's still doing it."

My heart is racing. "What happened to you?"

"Same as you probably. Contract promised 100k. I was desperate, behind on rent, drowning in student loans. Signed without reading carefully enough. Delivered a healthy baby boy. Then his lawyers hit me with the moral breach clause. Said I was too emotional, too attached. Gave me five thousand dollars and told me to disappear."

"That's exactly what happened to me."

"Of course it is. It's his playbook. Find desperate women. Use their bodies. Throw them away. I tried to fight it. Hired a lawyer with the five thousand he gave me. Lawyer looked at the contract and said it was ironclad. Told me to move on."

"Did you?"

"I tried. But the debt was still there. I lost my apartment. My job. Everything fell apart. I've been living out of my car for three months."

I close my eyes. That could be me in three months. Probably will be.

"How many of us are there?" I ask.

"I don't know. I found four other women on this forum. All surrogates. All screwed the same way. There might be more who are too scared to talk because of the NDAs."

"We should meet. Compare notes. Maybe if we all come forward together, it'll be harder for him to silence us."

There's a long pause. Then, "I can't. I'm sorry. The NDA is clear. If I talk, he sues me for everything. I have nothing left to lose except the car I'm living in. I can't risk it."

"But if we all talk, if we all break the NDA together, he can't sue all of us. The legal fees alone would be—"

"You don't get it. He doesn't care about legal fees. He cares about control. About making examples. If I break the NDA, he'll destroy me. Not just financially. He'll make sure I never work again. Never rent an apartment. Never have a normal life. I've seen him do it to others."

"What others?"

"There was a woman. Katie Morris. She tried to go public about her surrogacy experience. Went to the media. Marcus's lawyers buried her in lawsuits before the story could run. She declared bankruptcy. Last I heard, she left the country."

Katie Morris. One of the names on the NDAs I saw at the station.

"So we just give up?" I ask. "Let him keep doing this?"

"What choice do we have? We're broke. He's a billionaire. The system protects people like him. Not people like us."

I want to argue. Want to tell her we can fight. But I know she's right.

The system does protect people like Marcus. It's designed to.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I wish I could help. But I can't. I hope things work out for you."

She logs off before I can respond.

I sit there staring at the screen. All these women. All these stories. All of us broken by the same man.

And nobody's stopping him.

My email refreshes. One new message.

It's from Rachel Kemp.

"Nora, I appreciate you reaching out but I can't help you. My NDA with Marcus Wolfe is legally binding and I have too much to lose. I'm sorry. Please don't contact me again."

Another email comes in. Melissa Torres.

"I don't know who you are but if this is some kind of trap, it won't work. Leave me alone."

The others don't respond at all.

They're all too scared. Too broken. Too convinced that fighting is pointless.

Maybe they're right.

I close the browser and lean back in the chair. My body aches. My breasts are leaking again. I should change the pads but I'm out of supplies and can't afford more.

This is my life now. Homeless. Broke. Trapped by an NDA and a billionaire who can destroy me on a whim.

My phone buzzes. Text from Jade.

"Time's up. Assault charges filed. You have 24 hours to leave NYC or I press for your arrest. Don't test me."

I stare at the message. Twenty-four hours.

I could run. Get on a bus to somewhere cheap. Start over. Work minimum wage jobs under the table. Try to survive.

Or I could stay. Fight. And probably lose everything including my freedom.

What's the smart choice?

Another text comes in. Unknown number.

"Miss Ashford. This is James Chen, legal counsel for Marcus Wolfe. You've been served with a cease and desist order for violating your NDA. Any further contact with Mr. Wolfe, Miss Rivers, or anyone associated with them will result in immediate legal action. Additionally, we're pursuing damages for slander regarding your false accusations. Attached is the lawsuit. You have thirty days to respond."

I open the attachment. It's a lawsuit. They're suing me for two million dollars for breach of contract and defamation.

Two million dollars I'll never have in my entire life.

I start laughing. I can't help it. It's absurd. All of it. I have nothing and they're suing me for two million dollars.

The woman at the desk looks over at me. "You okay, honey?"

"I'm great," I say. Still laughing. "Everything's perfect."

She doesn't look convinced.

I grab my bag and walk out of the shelter. I don't know where I'm going. Don't care.

My phone buzzes again. Detective Chen.

"Found something else. Can you meet me? Same place as before. One hour."

I text back. "I'll be there."

Maybe she found the evidence we need. Maybe she found a way to nail Marcus for Dad's murder.

Or maybe it's nothing. Maybe I'm grasping at straws because the alternative is giving up completely.

Either way, I have nothing else. Nowhere else to go.

I start walking toward the station.

Behind me, somewhere in this city, Marcus Wolfe is living his perfect life with his perfect family built on the broken bodies of women he's destroyed.

But I'm not broken yet.

Not completely.

And that's going to have to be enough.