CHAPTER 3

Liam's POV

The phone rang while I was sitting at my desk. I glanced at the screen before answering.

"Ivan."

"Sir." His voice came through, "It's Dr. Miranda. She wants to speak with you."

I leaned back in my chair.

"Put her through."

A few seconds later, her voice came through.

"Mr. Reynolds."

"What is it?"

"The surrogate has delivered."

I paused. "And?"

"A healthy baby girl."

I stared at the documents on my desk.

"A girl?"

"Yes. Seven pounds, two ounces. She's stable."

I nodded even though she couldn't see me.

"Good."

There was a brief silence.

"And the surrogate?" I asked.

"She's been discharged."

I frowned slightly, "Already?"

"Yes."

I didn't ask anything else.

The entire arrangement had been simple from the beginning. No relationship, no marriage, no unnecessary attachment.

Just a child and an agreement.

I had never wanted to get married.

I had never been interested in settling down, and I certainly didn't want a woman coming into my life simply because my grandmother believed it was time for me to start a family.

That was the reason I had agreed to surrogacy in the first place.

Margaret had spent years talking about heirs, family reputation, and the future of Reynolds Holdings.

She wanted me married but I refused. She wanted great grandchildren, I refused that too.

Eventually, she had suggested surrogacy.

A child without a marriage.

No relationship to maintain. No woman expecting something from me.

It seemed like the easiest solution. So I agreed.

"Mr. Reynolds?"

Miranda's voice brought me back.

"Yes?"

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

I ended the call.

Ivan walked into my office few hours later.

"The baby has been taken home, sir."

I looked at him. "Who took her?"

"Your sister."

"Clara?"

"Yes."

I nodded, "Alright."

Ivan waited and asked, "Do you want me to inform your grandmother?"

"There won't be any need. She'll already know." I replied.

Margaret always knew everything.

"I'll go home after work."

"Yes, sir."

He left.

I returned to my work.

For the rest of the afternoon, I tried to focus.

But every now and then, my eyes returned to the clock.

I didn't know why.

Maybe because there was now a child waiting for me at home.

My daughter.

The thought still felt strange.

By the time I arrived at the mansion, Margaret was already waiting in the living room with Clara.

Clara smiled the moment she saw me.

"Congratulations."

I looked at her.

"Thank you."

Margaret stood coming closer to me, "Finally."

I knew that tone.

"Finally what?"

"A great-grandchild."

I walked past them and loosened my tie.

"This is what you wanted."

Margaret frowned, "And what about what you wanted?"

"I didn't want a child."

Clara looked between us.

"Can we not start arguing the moment Liam walks through the door?"

Margaret ignored her.

"You agreed to this because you knew it was time."

"No. I agreed because you wouldn't stop talking about it."

Her expression hardened, "Everything I do is for this family."

"And everything you do somehow ends up becoming my problem."

"Liam."

"I don't want a wife, Grandmother. I don't want to be forced into a marriage just because you think the family needs one."

"You're still young."

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

Margaret opened her mouth again.

Clara quickly stepped between them.

"Enough. Both of you."

I exhaled, "I'm going to see the baby."

I walked away before Margaret could respond.

The nursery was quiet when I entered.

Clara was already there.

She was sitting beside the crib, gently patting the baby while humming a soft lullaby.

The baby was making small, faint cries.

I stopped at the doorway.

Clara looked up, "She woke up a few minutes ago."

I walked closer.

"Let me hold her."

Clara immediately stood.

"Careful. She's still so tiny."

"I know."

She carefully placed the baby into my arms.

I held her gently.

For a moment, she continued to fuss. Then she became quiet.

I looked down at her.

She was so small. I didn't feel some sudden change inside me.

I wasn't suddenly ready to become a father.

But there was something about holding her that felt different.

She was my daughter.

I adjusted the blanket around her.

"You're quiet now."

Clara smiled, "She likes you."

I looked at her.

"She's barely a few hours old."

"Still."

I looked back at the baby.

I had never thought much about names. But one came to me.

"Diana."

"Diana?"

I nodded firmly, "Diana."

The baby moved slightly in my arms.

I lowered my voice.

"I'll take care of you."

It was the first promise I'd made to her. And somehow, I knew I meant it.

The door opened.

Margaret walked in. She looked at the baby, then at me.

"She's beautiful."

I didn't answer. I kept looking down at Diana.

Margaret stepped closer, "She will carry the Reynolds name. We have a lot to discuss."

I looked at her.

"Not tonight."

She sighed, "Fine." She turned toward the door and said, "Get some rest, Liam."

After she left, I remained there for a while.

Diana had fallen asleep in my arms.

I looked down at her tiny face. I still didn't know what being a father was supposed to feel like.

But I knew one thing, I would protect her.

Whatever happened next, she was my daughter.

And that was enough.