Wanted: Billionaire's Surrogate

Ethan’s POV The steady hum of the engine filled the silence as my car rolled past the tall iron gates of the Lancaster Estate. It’s been years since I last came here. The place looked smaller than I remembered. The gardens overgrown, the fountain in the courtyard no longer running. Matagal rin akong 'di nakauwi. Now, I'm here again. I shouldn’t have come. I told myself that the last time, too. But the family lawyer called and said it was urgent, saying that my father’s condition had worsened. Kahit naging malayo ang loob ko sa kaniya hindi ko parin sya matiis. I couldn’t exactly ignore it. I loosened my tie as I stepped out, the late afternoon sun brushing against the stone walls of the mansion. My father’s voice was the first thing I heard when I entered his room, hoarse but commanding, like a man who refused to surrender even to death. “Ethan,” he said, looking up from his bed, his breathing shallow but his eyes still sharp. "Hindi ko inaasahan na makakapunta ko." Na

Ava’s POV The buzzing of my phone dragged me out of my restless sleep. Namumula pa nang bahagya ang mga mata ko dahil sa kulang sa tulog at sumabay pa ang nanuyo kong lalamunan. The faint morning light slipping through the curtains reminded me everything I wanted to forget. Kahit sandali lang, kahit ilang minuto lang, hindi ko naalala ang katangahang ginawa ko kahapon, unti-unting nanumbalik ang lahat sa isip ko. The cold, pristine walls of the Vale Fertility Foundation. The sterile scent of disinfectant. And him— Ethan Lancaster. Like a bad memory, I grimaced. I groaned, covering my face with my pillow as shame burned through my chest. Anong ginawa ko? Hindi ko alam kung ano ang pumasok sa kukote ko at nakaya kong pumasok sa building na 'yon in the first place. Desperation? Siguro. As the regret slowly crept inside of me, the image of my mother lying on the hospital bed, suddenly flashed in my mind followed by the ₱189,540 bill na kailangan ko pang bayaran. The regret turne

Ava’s POV Two weeks. Fourteen endless days filled with waiting, working, and pretending that everything was fine. I buried myself in the hospital’s routine, taking extra shifts, volunteering to cover for anyone who needed rest. Anything to keep my mind from spiraling into what-ifs. Every night, I went home with aching feet and an empty heart. Every morning, I reminded myself to smile at patients, to comfort worried families, to keep breathing. Because that’s what I knew how to keep moving forward even when the world kept pulling me down. Napansin ni Mira, of course. “Ang tahimik mo na lately,” she said one afternoon while we folded fresh linens in the nurse’s lounge. “More than usual.” “I’m fine,” I lied automatically. She gave me that skeptical look she always did when she knew I was lying. “Fine doesn’t look like someone who hasn’t eaten lunch for three days.” I forced a small laugh. “Marami kasi akong iniisip.” “You always do,” she murmured, then added softly, “Whate