THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGACY TRAP

The nurse’s station was in chaos.“Amira, don’t—” one of her coworkers whispered, but Amira was already charging down the corridor, fists clenched, the disciplinary notice crumpled in her hand like an insult she couldn’t ignore.She pushed open the glass door of the administrator’s office with so much force it slammed into the wall.Dr. Langston barely looked up from his desk. “Miss Wells.”“You’re suspending me for what, exactly?” she snapped, voice shaking but fierce.The senior administrator leaned back slowly in his leather chair, like he had all the time in the world. “Protocol violation. Patient 417 was administered insulin outside of the scheduled window. That’s automatic grounds—”“I corrected it five minutes later! The chart was misflagged, and I updated it. The patient was stable. And you know that.”Langston removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have a history of emotional reactions, Miss Wells. We’ve documented—”“This is retaliation,” she shot back,

Amira hadn’t slept.The room was too still. Too clean. It smelled like polished glass and sterilized air—nothing like her cluttered apartment back in the city where the walls creaked and the coffee pot hissed. Here, the silence pressed in like a weight.The white sheets felt expensive. The mattress hugged her like it had memorized her body already.But her body didn’t belong to her anymore.A soft knock startled her upright.She pulled the robe tight around her, heartbeat stuttering.The door creaked open and a woman stepped in—mid-forties, trim, expression neutral. Dressed like someone who didn’t just work here, but belonged.“Good morning, Miss Wells. I’m Evelyn. Mr. Voss’s household manager.”Household manager. Not maid. Not assistant.Prison warden.Amira cleared her throat. “Morning.”“You’ll find a full wardrobe in the dressing room,” Evelyn continued, walking in like she owned the air. “Everything tailored to your measurements. Breakfast is served in the east solarium by eight.

“You ever wonder why the west wing is always locked?”Amira’s voice was low as she stirred her tea in the conservatory. The sun hung high in the sky, but her body felt ice-cold. She didn’t look at Evelyn when she asked. She didn’t need to. The silence told her everything.“I’m not paid to wonder,” Evelyn said after a long pause.Amira turned to face her. “That’s not a no.”“It’s also not a yes.”Amira stood slowly. “Then I guess I’ll find out for myself.”Evelyn dropped the silver spoon she’d been polishing. It clanged loudly against the table. “Miss Wells.”But Amira was already gone.She didn’t wait for nightfall.No more creeping around like some obedient guest. She was a prisoner—she knew that now—and prisoners didn’t wait for permission.The west wing hall smelled different—dustier, colder. The portraits were covered with sheets. The rugs were frayed. Light bulbs flickered like tired hearts.She passed three locked doors before one clicked open beneath her hand.The air inside wa

The walls have ears.That thought pulsed in Amira’s head like a warning drum as she tiptoed through the east wing. The vent discovery had shaken her, but seeing Naomi alive—drugged, strapped, discarded—lit something beneath her skin.She wasn’t just carrying a baby anymore. She was carrying evidence. And if she didn’t get out, she’d end up just like Naomi—forgotten in some soundproof white room.But escape wasn’t simple.Not when every camera blinked red. Not when every hallway seemed to have an invisible watcher. Not when even doors that used to open… suddenly didn’t.Still, she had a plan.“Evelyn’s off tonight?” Amira asked, stirring soup mechanically.“Yes,” replied Marla, one of the newer maids. “It’s her once-a-week leave.”Amira nodded.That was her window.Midnight.Dressed in all black, Amira moved like shadow.She’d memorized the blind spots—where the camera angles didn’t quite catch full coverage. She’d swiped a keycard from Evelyn’s desk earlier that day. And in her pocket

The estate was no longer quiet.Screams echoed. Alarms blared. Guards swarmed the halls.Amira’s bare feet pounded the cold marble floors as Evelyn yanked her down a side corridor.“This way!” Evelyn shouted, her face pale with panic.“Where are we going?” Amira gasped.“There’s a maintenance exit behind the north wing—less guarded!”They dashed past glass-enclosed botanical labs, past rooms filled with sterile equipment and locked cabinets. The estate, once pristine and luxurious, now felt like a maze built to trap.Behind them, footsteps thundered.“Stop them!” Dominic’s voice bellowed, fury breaking through his usual calm.Amira’s heart jackhammered in her chest. Every instinct screamed that if he caught her now, there would be no second chance. No forgiveness. No escape.They rounded a corner—and slammed into a guard.He grabbed Evelyn first.“NO!” Amira screamed, slamming her elbow into his throat.He coughed, loosened his grip, and Evelyn bit his hand, hard.He howled.Evelyn ya