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THIRTY - FOUR

Author: A.Silver
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-07 20:07:07

CARA's POV

I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet, but I could feel it under my pillow.

That slim, heavy card.

I rolled onto my side, the morning light slicing through the drapes in pale gold streaks. My fingers found it instinctively—smooth edges, embossed texture, the faint scent of cologne still clinging to it. I pulled it out, holding it up above me like it might suddenly whisper secrets if I stared long enough.

David.

A name too simple for the chaos it had stirred in me.

I twirled the card between my fingers. There was something about the way he’d looked at me—like he saw more than just a junior curator fumbling for relevance. Like I was a player in a bigger game. A temptation of some kind.

And the number he’d thrown out so casually—one hundred million each. Not forty. Not fifty. A hundred.

It was absurd. It was thrilling.

It made me feel powerful.

And also a little sick.

Brrrzt.

I startled as my phone buzzed beside me. I dropped the card and fumbled to answer. Selina.

Of course.

I ans
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  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FIFTY

    CARA's POVI stayed in Selina’s office longer than I should’ve, fingers still curled loosely around the letter, the edges softening in my grip. She hadn’t said a word since I read it. No follow-up, no reaction. Just that small, barely-there smile that flickered once and vanished.The silence stretched. I cleared my throat.“So... Senior Curator.” I tried to keep the disbelief out of my voice. “That’s... big.”Selina turned back to the window, her arms crossed behind her back. “You earned it.”It took a second to absorb that. I blinked, still feeling like I’d walked into the wrong version of today.“You’re not... mad?” I asked carefully. “I ghosted your calls for three days straight.”She didn’t turn. Just let out a soft, dry breath. “Of course I’m mad. I’m also not a child.”I bit down on a smile.Then she turned and looked at me directly. “Why do you think I’ve been dumping so much work on your table recently?”I stared at her. “Wait—you knew that?”Selina raised an eyebrow. “Of cour

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FORTY-NINE

    CARA's POVFor three days, I avoided Selina’s calls.I didn’t silence my phone or block her number—I just stared at the screen whenever it rang. Once, it lit up in the middle of the night, and I watched it blink until it died out on its own. I knew I had to face it eventually, the fallout from vanishing without a word. But I wasn’t ready. Not until now.That night, I stood outside Wesley’s study, my hand hovering near the door. It was closed, as usual. A faint strip of light glowed beneath the frame, steady and gold. I took a breath and knocked.“Come in,” he said.I stepped in slowly. Wesley sat behind the desk, reading over something with a half-empty glass of whiskey beside him. His sleeves were rolled, tie loosened, but his posture was the same—straight-backed, composed. Dangerous even in repose.“I’m going back to work tomorrow,” I said, voice quiet but sure.He didn’t look surprised. Just looked up, eyes unreadable, then nodded. “All right.”I blinked. “That’s it?”“You’ve been

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FORTY-EIGHT

    CARA's POVIt had been a week.Seven days in a white-walled room that smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender from Jenny’s stubborn insistence on essential oils. Seven mornings waking to the soft scrape of her best friend’s body adjusting in the visitor’s chair, her hand always wrapped around mine before my eyes even opened.Now, I was going home.The air outside felt crisper than I remembered, or maybe I was just breathing deeper. The wheelchair rolled gently along the ramp, guided by a nurse whose name I never caught. Jenny hovered, carrying a small overnight bag and a basket of fruit no one ever touched.A black car waited at the curb. Sleek, understated, and familiar in a way that made my chest throb with something I didn’t want to name.Juan was already inside when the nurse opened the door. He looked worse than I did, if that were even possible—bandaged arm in a sling, a bruise blooming high on his cheekbone, the kind of exhaustion that went bone-deep. And yet, when he saw me

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FORTY-SEVEN

    CARA's POVI looked at Haller.“Show me,” I said.He didn’t move at first. Just blinked slowly, like he was hoping I’d take it back. Like maybe I didn’t mean it. But I did.His voice was level when he finally spoke. “Juan called me before he went up to the suite.”I frowned. “He what?”“He had a feeling. He didn’t say it out loud, not even to himself, but he knew something wasn’t right. You’d told him about this man. About David.” He hesitated, then added, “He didn’t want to believe what he was thinking. Neither did I.”I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat.Haller’s eyes darkened behind his lenses. “We didn’t think it was possible. Not Salvatore. Not that.”The name landed like an elbow to my sternum. I had only heard it a few times, always from Wesley, always with venom stitched into his voice. It didn’t fit in David’s mouth. Couldn’t.He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, not the tablet. A smaller screen. More intimate. More surgical.“I’ll make

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FORTY-SIX

    CARA's POVThe sound came first.It was faint, like a scream underwater — a high, desperate wail slicing through the dark. Then the cold. Something hard beneath me, something soft strapped across my chest. I couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.Light stabbed through my eyelids. White. Flashing. My stomach rolled.I pried my eyes open.Everything swam.There was a face above mine — a man’s. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Too calm for the chaos around him. He was saying something, his mouth moving like a TV on mute. Then the sound rushed in, deafening all at once — sirens, metal rattling, voices overlapping.“…You’re awake,” the man said, noticing me blink. “Stay with me. My name’s Cooper.”I blinked again, trying to keep the pieces together. My head throbbed like it had been split open.“Cooper,” I mumbled. “Who…”He leaned closer, adjusting the strap across my shoulder. His hands were sure, clean. “I’m one of Mr. Morano’s bodyguards,” he said. “You’re safe now.”Mr. Morano.Wesley.“

  • His Heartbroken Surrogate    FORTY-FIVE

    CARA's POVThe doorknob twisted.I stopped breathing.For one blinding second, I didn’t know what to hope for—another predator or a miracle. But then Juan stepped inside, his silhouette framed in the hallway light. My whole chest caved in with relief, but my heart… it started to pound. Not from comfort. From panic.He moved like a shadow—silent, precise, gun drawn. His eyes scanned the room with the chill discipline I’d seen only once before, when Wesley had nearly bled out in the elevator. I wanted to call his name. Wanted to scream. But all I could do was thrash.His gaze landed on me. His whole face changed.He rushed forward. “Cara—Jesus.” His voice dropped to a whisper, both steady and urgent. “I’ve got you.”He crouched down fast, checking my restraints, his fingers already reaching for the zip ties. His hands were shaking. “What did he do to you?” he murmured. I tried to scream, tried to warn him, but the duct tape muffled everything. My body arched, jerking toward the door.

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