SURROGATE FOR THE COLD BILLIONAIRE

EMMA'S POV "Your sister has maybe three months without the treatment." Dr. Martinez's words echo in my head as I race through the hotel's kitchen, my hands shaking so badly I nearly drop the tray of chocolate soufflés. Three months. Ninety days. That's all Lily has left unless I can somehow pull together two hundred thousand dollars for an experimental treatment that insurance won't cover. Two hundred thousand dollars. I can't even afford this month's rent. "Chen, those soufflés needed to be plated five minutes ago!" Chef Bernard's voice cuts through my panic. I nod and force my trembling hands steady. The soufflés are perfect, risen exactly right, the kind of work that should make me proud. Instead, all I can think about is Lily lying in that hospital bed, her skin too pale, her smile too tired. I'm arranging the final garnish when someone slams into me from behind. The tray tips, and I watch in horror as six perfect chocolate soufflés tumble to the floor in a cascade of shatte

EMMA'S POV The hospital smells like antiseptic by the time I arrive. I find Lily in her usual room, sketching. She looks up when I enter, and her smile is so bright it breaks my heart."Emmy! I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."I sit on the edge of her bed, clutching my purse where the check from Dominic Westbrook burns like a secret. Two hundred thousand dollars deposited this morning, just like he promised."I have good news. I got a new job. Corporate consulting for a hotel chain. The signing bonus is enough to cover your treatment."The words taste like lies, but Lily's face transforms with such pure joy that I almost believe them myself."Emma, no. That's too much. You can't…""It's already done. Dr. Martinez is starting your treatment next week."Lily starts crying. "I don't know what to say.""Say you'll fight. Say you'll let me do this."She throws her arms around me, and I hold my little sister while she sobs. I'm doing the right thing. Even if it means lying to everyone

EMMA'S POV Three weeks into hormone treatments, and I want to murder everyone.I'm standing in the hotel kitchen trying to plate a dessert while my hands shake and sweat drips down my back. The hormones make me hot all the time, nauseous half the day, and so emotional I cried yesterday because a customer sent back a crème brûlée."Chen, you okay?" One of the line cooks asks. "You look pale.""I'm fine. Just tired."That's the lie I've been telling everyone. Not: I'm pumping my body full of hormones to prepare to carry a billionaire's baby.My phone buzzes. A text from Dominic: "Appointment with Dr. Patel tomorrow at 10 AM. James will pick you up at 9:30."I've seen Dominic exactly twice since that first appointment. But mostly, he's been absent. Texts about appointments. Emails from his assistant. Nothing personal.Exactly what the contract specified.So why does it bother me?I finish my shift and drive to the hospital. Lily's in the common room playing cards. She's gained weight, a

EMMA'S POVMrs. Kowalski discovers I'm crying over a commercial about puppies."Kochanie, what's wrong?""Nothing. The puppies found homes and it's just so beautiful." I'm sobbing into a throw pillow at ten in the morning, still in my pajamas.She sits beside me, rubbing my back. "Hormones are terrible things. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I cried because my husband folded the towels wrong.""Did it get better?""Eventually. Then the baby came and I cried about everything else." She smiles. "But you have good reason to cry. This is hard thing you're doing.""I signed up for it.""Doesn't make it easier." She studies my face. "You like him. Mr. Dominic.""What? No. It's just a contract.""Contract doesn't make you look at him the way you do.""I don't look at him any way."She pats my hand. "Okay, kochanie. You keep telling yourself that."After she leaves, I t

EMMA'S POVDr. Patel's office is cold.I'm lying on the exam table while she does the twelve-week ultrasound. Dominic stands against the wall, arms crossed, maintaining his careful distance.We haven't spoken about the balcony conversation. That was four days ago."There's Baby A," Dr. Patel says, pointing at the screen. "And Baby B. Both measuring perfectly."Two tiny shapes on the screen. Hearts beating. Arms and legs visible now."They're so small," I whisper."They'll get bigger. Trust me." Dr. Patel smiles. "Everything looks excellent. Emma, how are you feeling?""Better. Less nauseous.""Good. The second trimester is usually easier. You can resume light activities, but nothing strenuous."After the appointment, James drives us home in silence. Dominic stares out the window."Did you want to know the genders?" I finally ask."Do you?""I asked first."He