Chapter 3

Cade’s POV

Max stared at me in complete confusion—not that I blamed him, this whole situation probably didn’t make sense from the outside.

“I don’t understand, boss.” He said, clearly surprised. “That was a quick decision. Despite your...harsh questions for her earlier, it almost seemed like you liked her immediately.”

He paused and avoided my eyes, which meant he had a serious point to make. Max was my head assistant for a reason; he wasn’t afraid to talk real thoughts to me—which was a rare trait in my line of work, and I respected him for it.

He met my eyes directly, not wavering in his intensity for a second.

“Cade, sir, surrogacy is a complicated ordeal for everyone involved.” He said slowly, choosing his words cleverly. If you have some kind of affection or interests for her, I don't recommend…”

I let out a short mocking laugh at the thought that my decision had anything to do with affection.

Only in the world of mafia would people so naturally assume that choosing Harper as my surrogate meant any kind of affection or interestz

Years ago, my mother had been thrown out and abandoned by my Mafia King father.

Soon after, she discovered that I was growing in her belly. Then, after giving birth to me, she dumped me on my grandma’s doorstep and vanished from our lives immediately.

Well over a decade later, the legitimate heir and wife of my biological father died in a car crash organized by an enemy family.

My mother then came knocking on my grandma’s door out of the blue one late night to speak with me.

“Cade,” She said, “Your father is the head of a powerful mafia family and he needs an heir. I need you to come with me so we can take our rightful place.”

“And what exactly is our ‘rightful place’?”

“You are the heir to your father’s empire, of course. And my rightful place at his side as his legitimate wife. Think of it, all that money, power, and influence just waiting for us to claim. But only if you come back with me.”

I crossed my arms accusingly.

“And why would I trust a word you say?”

“I’m your mom, Cade.” She said tenderly. “You can trust me, I only want what’s best for you.”

I immediately laughed.

She didn’t actually care about what happened to me, she was just using me as a tool to get what she wanted.

My grandma had told me all about her, how ambitious and calculative she had always been—she was a master manipulator who tricked people into getting what she wanted.

“Yeah, no.” I answered. “I don’t want any of that. All I want is to stay here with Harper.”

“Who’s Harper?”

“She’s my...I love her.” I said with a smile. “As long as I’m with her, I’m happy with what I have. I’m happy to struggle, to survive, and to build a life together the way we’ve always planned.”

My mother rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Cade, you’re still young. I’m offering you a future here.”

“I already have a future with Harper.”

“Are you kidding? Please, that girl will leave you as soon as a better opportunity comes along, Cade. Don’t be dumb and place all your bets on some common street urchin."

My hands clenched into fists protectively, hating hearing anyone talk about Harper that way.

“Get out of my house.” I growled. “Stay the hell out of my life.”

She sighed and turned around to walk to the door.

“Fine. Prove me right then.” She turned back to me. “I’ll give you a week to change your mind, let’s see if your precious ‘Harper’ is worth it.”

I slammed the door behind her, no intention of ever speaking to her again.

I laid down in bed and couldn't help but chuckle at how crazy the whole thing had been. I thought Harper might get a kick out of it too and planned to tell her all about it after my work shift the next day.

But when I was at home changing after work the next day…I heard the roar of an engine pulling in front of our houses.

I looked out the window and saw some trust fund brat with a fancy car in front of Harper’s driveway—with Harper giggling in his arms.

I went outside thinking I would protect her from some handsy rich kid, instead I came out to see her unapologetically all over him.

And then she viciously ripped my heart out.

She dumped me for the trust-fund brat.

So, I wore my rage at Harper like a badge and followed my mother into the city.

My mother got everything she wanted and became my father’s new wife with all the power that came with it.

While she was taking her place at my father’s side, I took my place as his heir and threw myself into the work I was given.

My whole life changed completely after that. It was a brutal hell if you ask me.

Now, after all my hard work, I finally held real power and autonomy under my father, even above my father.

When my father then pressured me to marry and produce an heir for the sake of the family, I wasn’t a fan of the idea.

However, I knew the world I lived in. Heirs are crutial for a family.

So I suggested surrogacy before a well-planned marriage and my father fully supported the idea since it meant a faster solution.

I just never expected Harper to walk into my interview room.

I stared at the information Harper had left behind, her general information leaving me lost in thought as to how none of it made sense.

She lived in the dangerous part of town, had a work history of the most random jobs, and her background check showed that she had completely given up on pursuing a medical career—she hadn’t even gone to medical school.

Had she been dumped? Wasn’t she supposedly living a carefree life with that rich boy?

She was supposed to be living the high life with some spoiled trust-fund brat, so why would she be here, applying for something like surrogacy of all things? It didn’t add up, there was something off about the whole thing.

Whatever the reason—if Harper was intent on being a surrogate, she might as well be mine.

I clicked my tongue to pull myself out of my memories and thoughts, realizing Max was anxiously awaiting my answer.

“No, I wouldn’t do that.” I said. “I didn’t choose Harper necessarily because I liked her.”

I didn’t finish the rest of my sentence out loud and Max didn’t dare question further, but I couldn’t help but smile as I thought it:

I didn’t have to like Harper to choose her. I could choose her for revenge.

Harper’s POV

I stormed out of the room, fuming. No doubt startling the tall and elegant women waiting for their turn outside.

The receptionist quickly pushed me aside as the next candidate eagerly rushed into the interview room with her most charming smile.

I sent a glare at her back after she bumped into me without a word and turned back forward with a scowl.

The looks the other women directed at me grew even more disdainful than when I first walked in.

Then my phone rang.

It was Michelle. My younger sister. I picked it up immediately.

“Hey, Harper.” Michelle said. “How did the interview go?”

“Not great.” I answered.

I heard her hum thoughtfully and tap her fingers against something anxiously.

“I’m sorry, Harps.” She said reassuringly. “It’s okay, I’m sure you’ll get the next one.”

I pursed my lips, sensing something else in her voice that set my teeth on edge.

“Mickey, what’s going on?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No, everything is fine.” She answered all too quickly.

“Mickey, what is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” She paused, clearly hesitating to tell me. “Someone banged on the door again earlier.”

I cursed to myself and closed my eyes as my heartbeat picked up.

“Hide somewhere and don’t make a sound.” I answered urgently. “Let them think no one is home yet and they should go away. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“...Okay.” She answered quietly, immediately hanging up.

The moment Michelle hung up, regret crashed over me as I realized how badly I’d messed up this situation.

What was I thinking?

Wasn’t money the most important thing right now? What had I been angry about? It didn’t matter how I was treated, only that we could pay off my father’s debts to finally feel safe in our own home again.

When the receptionist then handed me my full physical examination report, she asked me to stay for a moment.

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” The receptionist kindly said. “Finding the right match can sometimes take time. Don’t get discouraged, you could get the next one.”

The woman sent me a sweet smile, clearly trying to reassure me.

I was grateful for her kindness, but hearing that only made my disappointment and fear of the future deepen.

Then, suddenly, as I solemnly walked toward the door, the assistant who had been in the interview room chased after me before I could leave.

“Miss Sinclair,” The assistant said. “You passed. Mr. Leone will be using you as a surrogate.”

Everyone in the room stared at me in shock as their mouths dropped to their chin—myself included.