Semua Bab The Unexpected Surrogate for the Ruthless Billionaire : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Carlos and Isabelle were dancing around each other in the living room, their intricate choreography of avoidance made tenser by the tension still hanging precarious in the air from the previous fight. Isabelle was working on her laptop on the kitchen table, with the twins playing in their pen at her feet. In walked Carlos in his little tie, off-center, which spoke volumes in itself: the Loom of Distraction."I've got one meeting after another all day," he said, avoiding meeting her gaze. "I might be late tonight."Isabelle nodded, that old stab of frustration touching her chest. "Of course. Don't worry; I have everything taken care of here."Carlos hesitated, wanting to say more but awkwardly searching for how to bridge that chasm that seemed to have opened wide between them. He nodded finally and headed for the door.As it closed behind him, Isabelle let out a really emotional sigh. This space between them was starting to become unbearable. She looked through to the twins—Alexander t

Mirror ImagesTiny feet patter along the hardwood floor, and the Fernandez penthouse echoes with that melodic sound. Isabelle looks up from her laptop just in time to see Alexander toddle into the room, his face screwed up in determination as he clutches a toy car."Mama!" he said again, triumphant now, showing her the toy car. "Vroom vroom!"She whisked him up in her arms and planted a warm, soggy kiss on his dimpled cheek. "That's right, sweetheart. Your car goes vroom vroom!"Just as if in answer, there was a shrill cry from the nursery. Isabelle sighed; that was Sophia's cry. She put Alexander down on the floor. "Let's go see what your sister wants, shall we?"They found Sophia standing in her crib, crying calmly. The instant she saw Isabelle, her wails reached new heights as she held out her hands."Oh, my baby," Isabelle said in her most soothing voice, reaching into the crib to pick up Sophia. Sophia turned right away to press her face into the crook of Isabelle's neck, sniffli

Educational CrossroadsThe brochure of Oakwood Academy gleamed in Carlos's hands: all glossy pages of ultra-modern facilities and smiling, uniformed children. Over his shoulder, Isabelle peered, brow furrowed."I don't know, Carlos," she said hesitantly. "It seems so…rigid."Carlos turned to her, his eyes flashing. "Look at their record, Isabelle. The best test scores in the state, guarantied placement into the best prep schools. This could set Alexander and Sophia up for life!"Isabelle bit into her lip, unconvinced. "They're only three, Carlos. Isn't it a bit early to be thinking about prep schools?""It's never too early to plan for their future," Carlos would persist. "Well I never had these kinds of opportunity when I was their age. I want our children to do better."His voice was so full of longing that Isabelle's heart softened. She knew just how much he had worked to get out from his humble origins."What about Sunnyside Montessori?" she said, tugging out another brochure. "Th

Crossroads and ConspiraciesCarlos stared out through the windows, observing the light-speckled night. Isabelle sat beside him, tapping at her tablet with a frown."Anything new?" he said, his tone clipped.Isabelle turned her head to the side. "Nothing concrete. Just the more I dig into this job offer, the more questions I have."Carlos nodded as a ball began to form in his gut. It seemed to be an out-of-the-blue call—some prestigious consulting firm inviting him to New York to take on a job that smelled of overgoodness: double the salary, corner office, and dealings with the greatest names in international finance.Something just was not right. It really was just a little too convenient that, when they finally started to get to the bottom of the mystery that surrounded his father's hidden fortune and the enigmatic Marcus Delgado, some things started happening.Turning toward his wife, he asked, "Am I paranoid, or does it feel like a setup?"Their eyes met—Isabelle's a combination of

Morris and Allison Morris was sitting behind his desk, his eyes riveted to the paper before him but looking at nothing, his hands shaking just a little as he picked up the manila envelope that held something which could potentially turn his world upside down. The result of the paternity test had come earlier that morning, and he had been dodging its opening for hours.Taking a deep breath, he finally worked up the courage to open the envelope. His heart was racing blood through the veins as his eyes skimmed the paper. As the words began to come into focus, the room spun around him."Probability of paternity: 0%"Morris slumped back in his chair. A wash of emotions had overcome him all at once—anger, betrayal, grief—all a little dizzying. He'd suspected; the timing had always been a bit off, really, and then there were these tiny Concentration Camp glitches in the boy himself. But to have it spelled out so brazenly ….He thought of the child that he had brought up as his own all these