CLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Ava’s POV

I stood in front of the mirror, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear for the fifth time. My reflection stared back at me, pale and tense. The blouse I chose felt too tight, my skirt too formal, my hands trembling slightly as I clutched my bag.

“Mom,” I said, my voice breaking slightly, “I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Isa looked at me, her eyes steady but soft. She had lived enough to know my hesitation. “Ava, you’ve thought this through a hundred times. You said yourself, this is our chance. You wanted to help someone, and this… this is an opportunity for both of us.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of the decision press down on me. “I know, but what if I… what if it goes wrong? What if I regret it? I’m supposed to carry one child, not… not someone else’s entire life in my hands. It’s not just money, Mom. It’s… it’s everything. My life. Someone else’s life. I…” My voice faltered.

Isa stepped closer, placing her hands over mine. Her grip was gentle but firm. “Ava, listen. You’re scared. That’s normal. But you’re not doing this for fun. You’re doing this for the baby, and yes, for the payment. But more than that… you’re strong. You’ll handle this. And I’ll be with you every step. Don’t let fear decide for you.”

I took a shaky breath. Her confidence in me always made me feel both brave and afraid. Brave because she believed I could handle anything, afraid because her trust felt like a responsibility I wasn’t sure I could meet.

“I just… what if I see him and I can’t let him go? What if I…” My voice cracked.

“Then you remember why you’re doing this. You agreed to it, Ava. You signed the terms in your heart and on paper. You can’t let emotion make this choice for you now. Not until you’ve seen it through.”

I nodded slowly, swallowing hard. My stomach churned as I turned toward the door. “Okay. Okay, Mom. I… I’ll do it.”

Isa hugged me tightly. “You’re going to be okay. And remember, this is temporary. One child. Just one. Don’t lose yourself in it.”

I stepped out into the crisp morning air, feeling the city buzz around me. The car ride to Reynolds Group felt like a tunnel I couldn’t escape. Each stoplight, each honk of a horn, each shadowed figure walking past me seemed magnified. I kept replaying the moment I would meet Liam Reynolds, imagining his cold, calculating eyes, and yet—against all reason—a small flutter of curiosity.

When the elevator doors opened to the lobby, I felt a chill. The marble floors reflected the sunlight streaming in from the ceiling windows, and the receptionist looked up at me with a faint smile.

“Ms. Morales?” she asked. Her voice was polite, professional. I nodded.

“Mr. Reynolds is expecting you. Please follow me.”

My heart skipped a beat as I followed her down the sleek hallway, each step echoing in the sterile space. I tried to focus on my breathing, tried to calm the storm inside my chest.

The secretary stopped before a set of tall doors. “You may go in.”

I nodded, my hand trembling slightly as I pushed the door open.

Liam Reynolds was seated behind an immaculate desk, his posture rigid, hands clasped in front of him. His dark suit contrasted sharply with the white walls behind him. He looked up, and his eyes met mine. Cold, sharp, piercing.

“You’re Ms. Morales,” he said, his voice even, almost detached. “I assume you understand the terms of the agreement.”

“I… I believe I do,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

He gestured toward a leather-bound folder on the desk. “This is the contract. Please read carefully. You will carry the child to term. You will be compensated two million dollars. You will be well cared for during delivery. Only one child. This is non-negotiable.”

I nodded again, reaching for the folder. The leather was smooth under my fingertips, and I felt the weight of it, heavy like the life inside me would be.

“There will be no sexual contact,” Liam continued. “Artificial insemination will be used. You are not required to… do anything beyond carrying the child.”

I swallowed, my pulse quickening. “I… I understand.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes studying me. For a moment, I felt as though he could see everything inside me—my fear, my hesitation, my unspoken questions. And strangely, for a second, the room seemed warmer, smaller, like he was not just the cold businessman I imagined but something else. Something… human.

“You’ll be safe,” he said softly. “We will ensure everything is smooth. No complications, no surprises. Just follow the plan.”

I nodded again, my fingers trembling as I picked up the pen. I looked down at the paper, the legal words formal and sharp. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. I could feel his gaze on me, silent, unwavering, waiting.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked.

I hesitated, then found my voice. “And… if something happens? I mean… medically? Complications?”

“Everything is monitored. You are covered. Doctors, specialists, all top-tier. You are not alone, Ms. Morales,” he replied. His voice was firm but carried a faint reassurance I did not expect.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the tremor in my hands. “And… I’m only carrying one child. No… no more?”

“That is correct. One child. No deviations.”

I picked up the pen, my fingers shaking. I felt a strange tension between us, like electricity humming just beneath the surface. My hand hovered for a heartbeat too long, and I noticed his eyes flick to mine, just slightly softer than before. It was subtle, fleeting, and yet I felt it like a spark.

I signed the contract. My hand shook. My chest was tight. My eyes flicked up to meet his again. He nodded once, sharply, professionally.

“You may leave,” he said.

I gathered my bag, my hands clammy, and turned to leave. My mind was a whirlpool of fear, anticipation, and something else I could not name. The spark lingered like a shadow, teasing the edge of my thoughts.

Outside, the city rushed past me. I took the subway home, my mind replaying every detail, every nuance, every sharp glance and subtle pause. What had I just signed myself into? Could I do it? Could I really carry someone else’s child for money, for a contract, for a future that felt so uncertain?

When I opened the door to my apartment, Isa was waiting, arms crossed, watching me with that calm, knowing expression.

“Are you alive?” she asked, half-joking, half-serious.

“I’m alive,” I said, sinking into the couch. “And terrified.”

She smiled softly. “Good. That means you care. And you will do this. You have no other choice now. Not really.”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The weight of the pen, the contract, the office, and Liam’s gaze pressed into me. I had signed. I had committed. There was no turning back.

“I just… I hope I can do this,” I whispered.

“You will,” Isa said. “You are stronger than you think. And remember, one child. Just one. Keep your heart in check. Everything else will follow.”

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what the next months would be like. I did not know if I would be ready, if I could withstand the emotional weight. But the spark in the office, the unexpected warmth beneath his cold gaze, lingered in my mind. For better or worse, Liam Reynolds would be part of this journey, and I could not escape it.

That night, I prepared myself. Checked my bags, reviewed medical instructions, and tried to silence the storm in my chest. I whispered to myself as I lay down, “I can do this. I have to. One child. One life. One choice.”