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SIXTY

Author: A.Silver
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-06-25 14:29:16

CARA's POV

By the time we pulled through the front gates of the Morano estate, the sun had started its slow descent. Golden light poured across the stone courtyard, soaking everything in a lazy, molten warmth. I stepped out of the SUV with a stretch and a sigh, my shirt sticking to my back and dust clinging to my calves. My hair had half-fallen out of its bun, but I didn’t care. I felt good—tired in the best way. My sketchpad was full of notes and ideas, and the Bridgetown gallery was finally starting to look like something real.

The smell of garlic and chilies met me before I even reached the front door.

Angela was in the kitchen, stirring a thick, red sauce in a pan that hissed with oil. She glanced over her shoulder, her curls pulled into a high puff, her face glowing with sweat and pride.

“Look at you,” she said, grinning. “You’re glowing.”

“That’s sweat,” I said, toeing off my shoes by the threshold.

“Mmhmm. Pregnancy glow then.” She turned back to the stove, flicking her wrist w
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  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    SIXTY

    CARA's POVBy the time we pulled through the front gates of the Morano estate, the sun had started its slow descent. Golden light poured across the stone courtyard, soaking everything in a lazy, molten warmth. I stepped out of the SUV with a stretch and a sigh, my shirt sticking to my back and dust clinging to my calves. My hair had half-fallen out of its bun, but I didn’t care. I felt good—tired in the best way. My sketchpad was full of notes and ideas, and the Bridgetown gallery was finally starting to look like something real.The smell of garlic and chilies met me before I even reached the front door.Angela was in the kitchen, stirring a thick, red sauce in a pan that hissed with oil. She glanced over her shoulder, her curls pulled into a high puff, her face glowing with sweat and pride.“Look at you,” she said, grinning. “You’re glowing.”“That’s sweat,” I said, toeing off my shoes by the threshold.“Mmhmm. Pregnancy glow then.” She turned back to the stove, flicking her wrist w

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FIFTY-NINE

    CARA's POVThe Barbados sun was relentless, pouring through the SUV windows like liquid gold. Even with the air conditioning humming softly, warmth clung to my skin in a way that made me feel too aware of myself. My hands, my lap, the swell of my abdomen beneath the linen blouse Jenny had insisted on packing.Cooper drove in silence, as always—professional, composed. He wore mirrored sunglasses, his posture perfectly upright even on the winding coastal road. But there was a calmness to him that made his stillness feel less like tension and more like discipline. The kind of man who knew how to disappear into a room without ever actually leaving it.We passed a row of pastel houses with rusted tin roofs and laundry lines swaying like flags of a quieter war. Bougainvillea spilled over old fences, their color too vivid to be real. For a long time, I said nothing. Then, quietly, I murmured, “It’s beautiful here.”Cooper nodded once. “It is. The island has its layers. You’ll see.”There was

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FIFTY-EIGHT

    CARA's POVThe moment I stepped off the jet, the heat hit like a wall—dense, wet, and blinding. Sunlight flared off the tarmac in waves, and the air smelled like salt and hibiscus, tinged with jet fuel. I didn’t get a chance to adjust.A man in a black suit—one of Wesley’s—nodded to us silently and opened the door to a sleek, armored SUV. Cooper motioned me in without a word. I slid into the leather seat and immediately regretted wearing jeans. Wesley climbed in after me, his tablet already back in hand, his sunglasses still on. We didn’t speak.The engine purred to life. The windows were tinted so dark I could barely make out the winding streets of Bridgetown, let alone the faces of anyone outside. Still, I felt them watching.Even Cooper was quiet. He sat at the front, his posture rigid, head angled just slightly toward the road, as if anticipating threats that hadn’t even surfaced yet.The ride took maybe twenty minutes, but it felt longer. The city gave way to cliffs, greenery, fl

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FIFTY-SEVEN

    CARA's POVJenny was sprawled across my bed like she lived there, one leg bent, the other dangling off the edge, popping grapes into her mouth like we weren’t packing for a tropical lie.“You’re not bringing that,” she said around a mouthful, pointing at the frayed blue tank top I’d just folded. “Unless we’re going for ‘sad ex-girlfriend of a yacht mechanic.’”I rolled my eyes. “I’m not trying to impress anyone.”She raised both brows. “You’re flying to Barbados. On his jet. To play his maybe-girlfriend. It’s not the time for ‘I’m just here to blend in.’”I pulled out the tank top anyway and stuffed it deeper into my suitcase, more out of defiance than logic. “It’s not like that.”Jenny grinned, smug. “Of course not. Just throw in a bikini or two. Maybe something sexy-but-not-slutty for dinners. Do you own linen? You’re gonna need mysterious-lady-by-the-pool vibes.”“You’ve watched way too many telenovelas.”“Correct. And you’re starring in one.” She sat up, grabbing another grape. “T

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FIFTY-SIX

    CARA's POVThe café’s tiny terrace smelled like espresso, sea salt, and early summer. Jenny was already there when I arrived, her sunglasses pushed up into her curls and a lipstick-stained mug in her hands. She grinned when she saw me, scooting her chair slightly so I could sit with my back to the wind.“Your cheeks look less ghostly,” she said. “That’s either sleep or foundation. Either way, I approve.”I gave her a tired smile and sat down. “Foundation. The sleep still hasn’t caught up.”We ordered — two oat lattes, one almond croissant split down the middle — and once the waitress disappeared, Jenny leaned forward, elbows on the wrought-iron table.“You look like you’ve got a secret. Spill it.”I wrapped my hands around the warm mug. “Wesley invited me to Barbados.”Jenny blinked. “Wait — like, with him?”I nodded slowly. “Apparently there’s some… situation unfolding there. His family. Some business things. He wants me away from the city while it’s happening.”Jenny’s brows shot up.

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FIFTY-FIVE

    CARA's POVI was already dressed for work—a linen blouse tucked into black slacks, shoes in hand—as I padded down the hallway, intending to grab something quick from the kitchen before Cooper pulled up.The house was quiet, all marble and soft morning light.Until I passed Wesley’s door.A low, flickering sound drifted out. Not voices exactly. Not music either. Just a dull hum—erratic, broken by static.I paused.The door was cracked just enough to see darkness on the other side. No sign of movement. Just the strange, steady rhythm of a TV left on.It wasn’t like Wesley to leave anything running. He was methodical to a fault.Still, I stood there, indecisive. I should’ve kept walking. It wasn’t my room.But something pulled at me—a taut thread of unease that hadn’t fully unraveled since yesterday. And when I opened the door slowly and stepped inside, the air felt even heavier.Click.I shut the door behind me. The lock slid into place like punctuation.The room was still damp from his

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