2

"No," I said.

He didn't blink. Rain ran off his chin and onto his collar, and he let it. "You haven't heard the terms."

"I heard enough. I'm not something you buy at the market." My voice cracked on the last word, and I hated that. "Find another woman to insult."

"I'm not insulting you." He said it flat, like he was correcting a number on an invoice. "I won't touch you. My fiancée can't carry a child. Silver got into her blood when she was young. Her doctors say a pregnancy would kill her before the sixth month."

I opened my mouth and closed it again. That was not what I expected.

"The Blackthorne line needs an heir before the succession ceremony in spring," he said. "I have a year, maybe less. It has to be an Omega with the right blood. My doctors went through every file in the territory, and yours came out on top."

The cold in my chest turned hot. "My file."

"You did fertility testing at Dr. Pruitt's clinic five years ago. You signed a consent form. My physician was allowed to read the results."

I remembered that form. I had signed it in a waiting room with Derek's leg bouncing next to mine. Nobody told me it could end up in a stranger's hands.

"You read about my body like it was a menu," I said.

"I read the results."

"You talk about it like you're checking stock."

He looked at me then, and for one second he seemed truly unsure. "I didn't mean it that way."

"But it sounded that way." I held the divorce papers tighter. "No, Alpha."

I walked past him. The driver stepped forward with a white card, and my hand took it. I didn't tell it to.

* * *

The hospital called while I was still taking off my wet shoes.

"Miss Vance, we need the deposit for your mother's procedure by the fifteenth." The woman sounded tired and kind, which made it worse. "Her surgeon says she can't wait past that."

"How much?"

She told me. I sat down on the floor of the hallway. I didn't decide to do that either.

The phone rang again before I could stand up. Derek's lawyer didn't bother with hello. "Mrs. Hale, my client will withdraw the claim on Marlow Street if you settle by Friday. If not, the court freezes the house, and the bank moves first."

"I'm not Mrs. Hale anymore."

"Friday," he said, and hung up.

I spent the night at Mama's kitchen table with three pieces of paper in a row: the hospital bill, the bank letter, and the white card. Ten million dollars. Mama's surgery was a small coin inside that number. The house was another. I thought of Derek in the courtroom saying I had given him nothing, and I thought about how good it would feel to give him nothing ever again.

At some point the sky went grey. I put on my one good blazer.

* * *

Blackthorne Holdings took up the top four floors of a glass tower. The receptionist didn't ask my name. She stood up when she saw me and said, "He's expecting you."

Adrian was at the window with his sleeves rolled and a cold cup of tea in his hand. He hadn't slept either. I could tell by the way he stood.

"It's past midnight," he said.

"Yes."

"You're nine hours late."

"You're still here."

He put the cup down. That was the closest he came to smiling.

I took a folded paper from my bag and laid it on his desk. I had written it on the back of the hospital bill because it was the only paper in the kitchen. "I have conditions."

He read it standing up. "The full amount in escrow before anything starts."

"Before. Not after the baby, not in pieces. And the hospital bill gets paid first, separately."

"A lawyer of your choosing, paid by me."

"Not one of yours."

"Every medical result shared with you, not only with my doctor." His eyes lifted. "And protection from anyone who might threaten you. Why would you need that?"

"You tell me. A stranger read my file and sent a car." I kept my hands flat on his desk so he couldn't see them shake. "I want to know what I'm walking into."

He was quiet long enough that I heard the elevator down the hall. "Most people in your position say yes and ask questions later."

"I'm not most people. I'm just broke."

"The first three, yes," he said at last. "The guards, I choose. They'll answer to me, not to you."

"Fine."

By ten o'clock, the lawyer I had picked from a list was sitting beside me. Her name was Ms. Pryor, and she was the only one on the list who hadn't looked up when Adrian walked in. She read every page twice. She changed nothing and underlined one line.

Page nine. Upon delivery, the Surrogate relinquishes all claim to the child and leaves Blackthorne territory within twenty-four hours.

I read it three times. Under the desk, my free hand pressed flat against my own stomach. There was nothing there yet. It still felt like holding something.

"Is there a problem?" Adrian asked.

"No." Then, because it came out thin: "Twenty-four hours isn't very long."

He watched my face. I think he saw more than I wanted. "You're not being asked to love the child, Nora," he said. "You're being paid to carry it."

I signed. I wrote my full name slowly, the way I had in the courtroom, and I didn't let my hand shake this time.

The door opened before I put the pen down.

A woman in a cream coat came in with rain still in her hair. She didn't knock and she didn't look at anyone else. She crossed the room and walked straight into Adrian's arms. His shoulders dropped, and I realised I hadn't seen them drop once in the last twelve hours. He kissed her forehead and kept his mouth there a second too long.

"Nora," he said, "meet my fiancée, Celeste."

Celeste turned. She was beautiful in a way that made you want to tell her things. She took my hand in both of hers, and her palms were warm.

"So you're the woman who's going to give us our baby."

"I'm Nora," I said. It was all I could think of.

Her eyes moved to the desk. To the contract, and the ink still wet on my name. She smiled, and it was a lovely smile.

"There's just one thing Adrian forgot to tell you," she said. "I intend to be present for every single moment of your pregnancy.”