One-year Contract

Today I showed up on time, without having to rush. Although I'd been irked about the whole thing and I'd told myself that I wouldn't come back here, but then I remembered mum's bills and decided to respond to the mail.

Now I sat in the same spot as the last time. Only this time, I was dressed appropriately. I wore a brown skirt that stopped just below my knees, then paired it with a white button up. 

Footsteps echoed from behind me, I clutched my tiny purse, as I mentally prepared myself to face the psycho again.

"Okay, Miss Marlowe. I have good news," the man whose name I found was Marcus Larvin said as he took the seat opposite me.

"Okay..."

"You qualified. Mr Kstervenchi showed great interest in you."

I smiled. "I'm happy to hear that, Mr Larvin."

He passed an envelope to me, and I took it. "You might want to read that first."

I pulled the document out of the envelope, and my gaze landed on the bold heading.

ONE-YEAR CONFIDENTIAL MARRIAGE AND GESTATIONAL SURROGACY AGREEMENT

My brows knitted tightly.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's everything your mind is telling you it is, Miss Marlowe. Mr. Kstervenchi is looking for a woman willing to marry him and carry his child.”

My mouth fell open.

“You want me to be a wife and a surrogate?”

"More or less. You might also want to go lower—"

I slammed the document against the desk, as I shot up.

"I've had enough of this bullshit," I seethed walking away.

"Amelia Marlowe, 22 years old. Only child of Mr Edward and Mrs Rachel Marlowe." 

I paused. 

"Father deceased. Accident in 2019 when you were only fifteen years old. Your mother has been the only one taking care of you, that was until she fell ill three years ago. Diagnosed with chronic kidney disease."

Tears gathered in my eyes. I balled my fingers into fists as if to keep the tears at bay.

The scraping of a chair reached my ears then footsteps drawing closer.

"It's not necessarily fatal, but without proper treatment, her condition will continue to deteriorate and eventually—" he paused.

"As far as I know, your mother's has gone long... without proper treatment. Currently, you're juggling bills that would keep piling up and you wouldn't be able to pay until you die."

He began pacing the room, then the flipping of a book floated toward me.

"May's bill $4,400. June's bill $5,400 and finally July $5,600. Total $15,600. All of these have been piling up ever since you lost your accounting job at WayWell Capital Group."

He came to a stop in front of me.

"So."

I staggered back. "How? I didn't fill all that—"

He smiled. "I believe that is for us to know and for you to wonder. The matter on ground is, Mr Kstervenchi needs you and you need his money. Now, will you take it or not?"

I turned away from him as disgust began crawling its way up my body.

"I-I—we're talking about a baby, Mr Larvin. Not only am I marrying a man I know nothing about, but I'm expected to have his baby."

"You'll know him in due time. That is If you accept the offer."

I wrapped my arms around myself, as I lowered my gaze. "I don't think I can, Mr Larvin. It's just..."

"If you're worried about... what I think you're worried about. I'll have you know that Mr Kstervenchi is not that kind of a man. He will never force you to do anything you don't want to especially if you do not feel comfortable with it."

"But the money seems to be forcing me to," I muttered.

He chuckled. I eyed him, taken aback by his easy vibe today.

"You need the money, Amelia. And Mr Kstervenchi needs you. This wouldn't hurt anyone cause you're both benefiting from each other."

I huffed, biting my lip.

"Time is ticking, Miss Marlowe. Every time you waste, your mother's health is at risk. $1 million for one year. We'll sort out your mother's bill in advance too. After that, the remainder will be released once the contract ends. I believe that is more than enough to start a new life."

$1 million.

Oh God.

So Greg was right after all.

"This... Mr Kstervenchi, Where is he, right now?" I asked quietly.

"Do you accept his offer?"

I pouted. "So I can't know him until I accept his offer?"

"Yes."

"Well, can I at least know how old he is?"

"Thirty-seven."

I cleared my throat loudly. "Wow..."

"Too old?" Marcus asked.

I shook my head quickly. "No, no, no... I mean... he's a bit." I wriggled my fingers together. "I mean... he's a bit..."

"He's old."

I let out a frustrated breath, then I began counting my fingers. 

"That's a fifteen year gap—"

"He's not going to be your husband forever, Miss Marlowe. It's just one year."

"Why me though?" I whispered. "You said there were twenty candidates, so why me?"

He stayed silent for a few seconds.

"I wish I could say, Miss Marlowe. But Mr Kstervenchi chose you personally."

I blushed. "Then how come are you the one doing this instead of him."

"I assure you, Miss Marlowe. Mr Kstervenchi has been with us every step of the way. He's just taking his time to access you from a distance."

Sounds like something a stalker would do, would I say that? No.

"And the whole—" I paused, a blush staining my cheeks. "How would we..."

"Don't worry, Miss Marlowe. Mr Kstervenchi intends to do it the medical way. So you're safe."

He always had an answer for everything, doesn't he?

"Very well then, are there any other details I need to know about."

He hummed. "Everything you need to know is in the file, but I'll tell you the one thing that might come as a shock to you."

I stared at him, puzzled.

"Mr Kstervenchi is married."

I froze.

My lips parted, but no words came out.

A wife.

He had a wife.

And they wanted me to have his baby?

"What?"