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The Billionaire’s Surrogate
The Billionaire’s Surrogate
Author: Bennie Black

Chapter One

Author: Bennie Black
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-25 07:27:19

ALEXANDER'S POV

There are lots of things to be unaware of but having your sperm stolen?

I stride through the polished halls of my penthouse suite, exuding confidence with every step. This penthouse has been part of my life since I was born. As an older son, my demands were always met and I liked taking charge to ensure things always move in the right direction. One thing I can say about myself is that I'm used to being in control, both in the boardroom and the bedroom. My reputation as a playboy precedes me, and I've grown accustomed to the admiring glances and knowing smiles from women who seek a taste of the lavish lifestyle I can provide.

Today, however, my customary confidence is rattled when my grandparents summon me to their opulent estate. My mind races with possibilities—what could this sudden meeting be about? I push open the massive double doors that lead to their lavishly decorated sitting room. There they are, seated on their ornate thrones of plush upholstery, looking every bit as formidable as I remember from my childhood.

"Alexander," my grandmother says, her voice regal and unwavering. "Sit down, dear."

My heart rate quickens. Something is off. They exchange a glance, and my suspicions are confirmed. This isn't just a routine family gathering.

"What is it, Grandmother? Grandfather?" I ask, attempting to maintain my composure.

"We've decided it's time for you to settle down," Grandfather says, his voice gruff but sincere.

"Settle down?" I chuckle, trying to mask my discomfort. "I've built an empire, conquered the business world, and enjoyed every pleasure life has to offer. I'm not ready to be tied down to one woman."

Grandmother sighs, her gaze unwavering. "Alexander, you can't continue on this way forever. It's time for you to consider the legacy you'll leave behind."

"I am building a legacy, one that will last for generations," I counter.

"Your empire is impressive, no doubt," Grandfather replies, "but there's more to life than just business success. We want to see you happy, with a family of your own."

The room falls silent as their words hang heavily in the air. A family of my own? The idea seems preposterous. I've never let anyone get close enough to threaten the walls I've carefully erected around my heart. Love is a weakness—a vulnerability that I cannot afford.

"And that's why," Grandmother continues, "we've taken matters into our own hands with a surrogate."

My mind reels, struggling to comprehend their audacious plan. A surrogate? For me? The anger surges within me, and I stand, my voice laden with frustration. "Absolutely not! I won't be manipulated into this farce. I make my own decisions, in business and in my personal life."

Their faces remain impassive, knowing full well that my temper would flare. It's the one aspect of myself that I've never been able to rein in, and they exploit it now.

"We understand your reservations, Alexander," Grandmother says calmly. "But hear us out. This isn't about manipulation; it's about love and family."

I clench my fists, torn between my love and respect for my grandparents and my determination to stand firm in my beliefs. But no matter how I struggle to fight it, a seed of doubt has been planted.

As I storm out of the room, the unresolved tension hangs in the air, and the future feels more uncertain than ever. My heart races, torn between anger and curiosity. I never expected my grandparents to orchestrate my romantic life, and yet, as much as I want to reject their plan, a part of me wonders if children are what I need right now.

I vow to myself that I won't easily give in to their proposal, but deep down, I know that this battle has just begun.

I pace forward then, backward, looking into their old faces and grey hair. I come to a halt right in front of them.

"Grandfather, Grandmother. I appreciate your effort but, I do not want a complicated life. I have had enough to deal with already."

"My dear, we understand you but we have no other choice than to make you a father through surrogacy. We considered the fact that you might not want a woman now."

"We love you, Alexander. And so do we know what is best for you."

I shake my head. How lovely they are but their decision is just the opposite. My eyes shuffles between Grandmother’s pearl earrings and Grandfather’s grey hair although, my mind reel with a lot of clips from a messed up past and how it is never possible to become vulnerable anymore.

"You do not need to worry yourself, Son. We will take care of everything. You are just the father and I am sure you will do great, Grandmother stands up, reaching for my arms with her hands. Her sharp and sweet cologne meets with my nose. It seems to calm all the anger flowing through my veins.

I clear my throat, not wanting to sound grumpy, "So, I guess my only role here is to be the father."

"Hmm." Grandfather nods his head in affirmation.

"Being a father comes with roles and responsibilities. Do not fret, it is within your power." Grandmother adds, slowly seating back into the plush chair.

I sigh with my eyeballs rolled up. When she speaks this way, I know it is a hectic chore.

"Honestly, I can not afford…," I break off in frustration. "It's alright."

There is a silence that speaks volume. I find discomfort in the silence as I imagine briefly what it would be like to have children all over the house.

I blurt, "It is quite embarrassing that I would have to give you my sperm."

Grandmother chuckled, "Of course not. We are your parents. You do not have to feel that way. Besides, you won't have to feel embarrassed because we have it already."

It feels like my ears were mishearing. My eyes widen in utter shock as I wrap my head around Grandmother's last sentence. How on earth?

"How?!"

"Be calm." Her soothing words sink into my ears.

"How can I be, Grandmother? How can I be calm? We are talking about a long process of release, so how did you get my sperm?" Furious, I place my hands into my hair.

"You don't have to know, son. All you should care about is the safety, wellbeing and the future of your seed," For a moment, Grandfather sounds like a tyrant.

The only question in my head is, how the hell did they get my sperm?

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    EMMA’S POVI draw the curtain open and let the morning lights seep into the room.The neighborhood is called Willowmere—a place that sounds like it belongs to a postcard or a childhood book, and that feels intentional enough to be safe. It sits far from everything I used to know, far from the usual streets and names that echo too loudly. Outside my window, life is happening quietly. A grey-haired man walks his dog with unhurried patience, a petite woman waters potted plants on her balcony. Two teenagers stroll past, laughing softly, their backpacks hanging loose like the world is yet to be against them.The air smells like toast, damp earth and faint floral tinges. It feels more like home than home— where I left.I rest my forehead briefly against the glass as I admire what everyday life looks like when it isn’t shattered.I sigh and turn back into the apartment.It is larger than I expected when I signed the lease: wide, open and thoughtful. Everything is already in place, as though

  • The Billionaire’s Surrogate    Chapter Eighty Eight

    EMMA’S POVThe days after my mother’s death has nothing to do with the drama of excessive wailing and some thick cover of endless tears. The days after my mother’s death arrive empty; like water through a cracked cup— quiet, leaking, gone before I can hold them. Morning becomes afternoon without ceremony. Night comes without relief. People return to their routines with an efficiency that feels like betrayal. Laughter resumes. Traffic hums. Phones ring. Life continues, like my mother had no experience of death.Everyone goes back to normal. Everyone except me.I stop answering Alexander’s calls on the second day. By the third, I stop reading the messages. By the fifth, I turn my phone off entirely. And I don’t see this as a punishment but as a way of surviving. Every time his name lights up my screen, my insides tighten like a fist around glass.I cannot afford to bleed anymore, so, I disappear from him.The flower shop smells the same— earthy, green, and faintly sweet. It’s strange h

  • The Billionaire’s Surrogate    Chapter Eighty Seven

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  • The Billionaire’s Surrogate    Chapter Eighty Six

    ALEXANDER’S POVI sniff in the smell of the waiting room, the smell of burnt coffee and disinfectant.It’s a smell I have learned to associate with things going wrong slowly, then all at once.Emma sits rigid on one of the plastic chairs, her arms folded tightly across her chest and her eyes fixed on the floor as though she’s afraid of looking up. Hilda is beside her, with her fingers wrapped around her phone, opening and closing it without purpose.I stand for a moment, watching them.I don’t know where to put myself as every place feels intrusive.“I’ll be back,” I say finally. “I’ll get you something. Tea. Snacks. Milkshakes. Anything.”Emma doesn’t look up.Hilda nods weakly. “Thank you.”I leave before Emma can stop me with one of those dagger stares.The hospital cafeteria is almost empty. A bright television in one corner and a tired attendant behind the counter. I order tea, milkshakes, water— too much of everything, as if abundance can fight loss.By the time I return, Hilda

  • The Billionaire’s Surrogate    Chapter Eighty Five

    ALEXANDER’S POVThe corridor feels unbearably still after Emma retreats into the ward. My creased shirt and rough look has nothing on me as the storm has settled. I should be satisfied. My family’s meddling hands will not harm her again. I should be. But I don’t find even a tinge of satisfaction.My phone vibrates sharply against my chest.It’s my grandmother.I swipe the call to speaker, almost throwing the phone across the hall in irritation.“Alexander,” her sharp voice slices through the silence. “Why haven’t you answered sooner?”“I was busy,” I say flatly.“Busy?” She lets out a slow and amused laughter. “Busy? Alexander, you’re supposed to be attending to family. You know very well what’s at stake. Tell me, what exactly is going on with Emma’s mother? I’ve been waiting for updates only you can give.”“Oh… you know don’t you?” My brows crease in disgust.“Go straight to the point.”“She’s being treated,” I say.“Being treated?” Her tone sharpens. “Alexander, you must understand.

  • The Billionaire’s Surrogate    Chapter Eighty Four

    EMMA’S POVThe clock on the wall says only twelve minutes have passed since the nurse whispered stand down like it was a prayer she had learned too late, but it feels like an hour has died on my chest.Mum’s breathing grows shallow, then uneven. Her chest rises like it’s climbing a hill it didn’t agree to climb. I sit close, my fingers wrapped around hers. She’s been unable to drink the herbal tea except for two sips.Hilda hovers at the foot of the bed, her eyes glassy, her mouth moving in silent pleas to a God she hasn’t been on speaking terms with in years.“Mum,” I whisper. “Stay with me.”Her eyelids flutter, then settle. Her grip tightens faintly, as if she hears me but doesn’t have the strength to answer.As I watch her, it feels like there’s an internal break, like a bone cracking under skin. I step out of the ward again, holding back my tears.The corridor feels colder now. Somewhere down the hall, a child cries.I walk to the nurses’ station with a steadiness that surprises

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