The Surrogate for My Don

Five years married to Don Victor. 999 needles later, I was finally pregnant. But the baby wasn't mine. It belonged to his mistress, Julia.

An hour ago, I was flying home from the hospital, the positive report clutched in my hand. It was Christmas Day. My husband, Don Victor, was about to get the surprise of his life.

I reached his office. The heavy bass of a song pulsed from under the door. Then I heard his laugh—the sound that used to own my heart.

Victor was inside.

I took a deep breath, ready to give him the one thing he wanted more than anything.

And then I heard another woman's moan.

"Ah... Victor... right there..."

My hand froze on the doorknob.

"You like that, my queen? My Julia?" Victor's voice was rough, full of lust.

My queen.

He never called me that.

In five years, the closest he got was "baby."

Julia.

The daughter of some second-rate family who’d been throwing herself at Victor for years.

I’d heard her name before we were married.

The woman was obsessed with him. She even threw herself onto his lap in a casino once, wearing nothing but leather, begging him for one night.

I was terrified. But a week later, Victor showed up with 999 roses and a ring.

He said he loved me. He said my family were nobodies, that we had no standing.

He promised if I gave him an heir, he’d make our secret marriage public. I'd be the Donna everyone would envy.

But after the wedding, the doctors said I couldn't get pregnant. It had to be IVF.

Last night, after a shower, I touched him in bed, tried to guide his hand to my breast.

He pushed me off. "Maria, I'm exhausted tonight. You know how business is. And your body... let's wait until after the baby, okay?

Now he was in his office, fucking someone else.

"Deeper... ah... you're driving me crazy..." Julia's voice was sweet and filthy.

The wet slap of flesh on flesh.

Their ragged breaths.

"Tell me you love me, Julia."

"I love you... my king... I only love you..."

It was a knife to the chest.

Just yesterday morning, he told me, "Love is a luxury, Maria. We have duty."

"Victor, is that stupid woman still dreaming of being your wife?" Julia asked, still breathless, her voice dripping with scorn.

"Maria?" Victor chuckled. Not a trace of warmth. "She's so naive. Five years, and she still believes she's barren."

Barren. That was Victor's lie?

I looked at the purple pinpricks covering my arms.

I remembered crying silently in the bathroom after every failed attempt.

The doctor saying, "Mrs. Moretti, there is an issue with your ovarian function."

Victor holding me, saying, "It's okay. We'll keep trying. Science will help us."

It was all a lie.

"To think I put birth control in her coffee every morning for five years, and the bitch never suspected a thing." Julia’s laugh was sharp and ugly, like shattering glass.

Birth control.

I thought of the coffee Victor made for me himself every morning.

"A special blend from the nutritionist," he’d said. "It's good for getting pregnant."

I remembered drinking every last drop, so grateful. I thought it was his love.

"The way she cries like a baby with every hormone shot... it makes me want to laugh," Victor said, his voice cold. "I'm the one stopping her from getting pregnant, and she thanks me for going to the hospital with her."

My body began to tremble.

Every shot, every blood draw, every gut-wrenching failure... he was there for all of it, playing the part of a loving husband.

Stroking my hair, saying, "We'll get there, I promise."

"So the baby in her belly..." Julia asked.

"You're too precious for that, Julia. A Romano princess shouldn't have to suffer childbirth," Victor said, whispering the sweet words I'd craved for five years. "As for the baby in Maria... of course it's ours, darling. Your egg, my sperm. She’s just the perfect vessel."

My hand fell from the doorknob. The pregnancy report slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.

Tears streamed down my face.

Even the baby... this baby wasn't mine?