Alma is the surrogate mother for billionaire ArthurHe is handsome, powerful, and ruthless. When Alma gives birth to his daughter, his ex-girlfriend comes back into the picture. Alma sees them shopping for a diamond ring together. Arthur approaches her and says, "I have to ask you something." Alma thinks he wants her to leave, but Arthur surprises her by asking "Will you marry me?" Alma is stunned.--Obligated by debts, Alma had no choice but to sign a surrogacy contract with billionaire Arthur. She thought she could leave after giving birth to the baby, but instead, she finds herself falling for Arthur's charisma. He helps her achieve her dreams and gives her the best love she could ask for. Although she's head over heels for him, she knows she can't possibly become his wife. Can she really give up her baby and the man she deeply loves?
View MoreAlmara’s PovGrace loves her new home. We all do. It only took a few extra months working with the interior designer to get the house of our dreams all set up and now it’s ready to show our friends and family.“Almara, where do you want the charcuterie board?” Arthur asks and I turn from placing sunflowers in a vase and point him in the direction of the sunroom.“I think on the glass table, next to the family portraits, would look nice,” I tell him.
Almara’s Pov“Before you say anything, there’s more,” Arthur says, his eyes excitedly searching mine though I have no idea what mine are conveying back.Arthur bought this house? Beneath the complete shock and awestruck beauty of the house is the nagging question of why he didn’t talk to me about this first. The old Arthur certainly wouldn’t have and would have done exactly this to swoon me- and it would’ve worked.The Arthur that’s devel
Almara’s PovArthur is acting weird. The school has been open for a month and we’ve been going out to lunch together every day since, except when I asked him today he gave me some lame excuse about having too much work to do.I only asked out of courtesy, I wasn’t actually expecting his usual answer to change. Even when I asked him if I could pick us up lunch and sit in his room with him while he worked, he got very fidgety and said that he had to run out to an art store. Which is also completely out of the blue.
Almara’s PovIt’s been a week since the vandalization. We got most of the mess cleaned up, of course not before images of the wreck made their rounds circulating on social media.It’s incredibly hard to read the public. Some feel bad for us, others say we deserved it, and a small portion agrees if any members of the hurricane pack deserve to have their possessions wrecked it should be the billionaires: Roman and Robert. Very little does anyone think that this shouldn’t happen at all.
Almara’s PovThe damage is worse up close. At least from the parking lot, there was some distance between me and the wreckage. Now that I stand mere feet away, I can see the hate seeping out of every blow that our poor building suffered.What’s worse is, that several students have already shown up before Arthur and I could make the phone call to tell them classes were canceled. The looks on their faces pains me the most. I had to duck away because their sympathetic condolences only made it hard for me to breathe.
Almara’s PovOur savings might be depleted, but the school is up and running. Mostly. Arthur and I finished the project six months later than we thought we would and only being able to get so far when my paintings were selling.But finally, it is finished. The final result is a simplistic three-story building with stained glass windows along the edges of the building that give the entire structure a warm glow. Where there isn’t glass there’s Bess-inspired cobblestone. It’s a beautiful combination of rustic and modern.
Almara’s Pov“It’s coming together.” I hear someone say over the sound of Arthur hammering away. By the last strike of the hammer, I’d say Arthur recognizes the voice and isn’t happy about it.I peak around the side of the building from where I’m leaning on a ladder painting and see Roman standing below us, hands on his hips.He looks out of place in his ten-thousand-dollar tailored jet black suit with midnight blue cufflinks standing among slabs of woo
Almara’s PovPerhaps I’ve spoken too soon. It’s nearly noon, meaning we’ve been looking for a potential art school to set up shop at for the past six hours and so far the last three places we looked at have rejected us.The first place we looked at used to be an apartment complex, but before that it was a steel-making business. It was a beautiful building with lots of historic character, exposed brick, and industrial accents with metallic spiral staircases and large windows.
Almara’s PovArthur and I are still riding Friday night's high. We’re sitting in the parking lot of the diner which opens in approximately fifteen minutes and Derek is going to start his day off with me quitting.The parking lot is empty except for me and Arthur’s old worn-out car that has served us for the better part of the year, and while anyone on the outside looking in wouldn’t guess it- it feels like we have the whole world and endless possibilities stretched out before us.
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