Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Heartbroken Surrogate : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

CARA's POVI was halfway down the block when the car pulled up beside me.A sleek black vehicle—glossy, spotless, low to the ground like a predator on wheels. The windows were tinted pitch-black, the kind of tint that said privacy isn’t a request—it’s a command. It moved so silently I didn’t even hear it until it stopped.I paused on the sidewalk, clutching my purse tighter.The passenger window rolled down with a smooth mechanical hiss, and a man leaned slightly toward the opening. Dark aviators, olive skin, stone-serious face. His voice was calm, measured.“Miss Stone. Please get in.”My spine stiffened. I took a step back. “I’m sorry—who are you?”“I’m here on behalf of Mr. Morano,” he said, like that explained everything. Maybe it did. My heart already started beating faster.“I have work,” I said. “I’m not—”The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a phone. He didn’t dial or show me anything. He just held it there like a threat. “I’ve been instructed to escort you to his of

CARA'S POVJuan didn’t speak the entire ride.Not that I expected him to. Silence was his specialty. The only sounds in the car were the soft hum of the engine and the occasional buzz of my phone—messages from Jenny asking if I’d arrived, if I was okay, if I wanted her to show up with a baseball bat and a camera crew just in case.I didn’t answer. Mostly because I didn’t know what to say.The city blurred into countryside the farther we drove. Trees grew thicker. Houses became scarce. Eventually, all that remained was winding road and shadow. My stomach churned with every passing mile. I didn’t know what I expected when Wesley said “estate,” but I hadn’t imagined this much distance from civilization. Or this much quiet.Then the road curved again, and I saw it.The gates.Tall iron monsters stretching wide across the driveway, flanked by black-stone walls and security towers. There were guards—armed guards—dressed in black, earpieces in, hands near their weapons. One of them stepped f

CARA's POVI shouldn’t have gone.I knew that the second I stepped into the old park we used to visit when things were simpler. When we were simpler.Henry was already sitting on the bench near the fountain. He looked... normal. Clean-shaven. Hair styled the way I used to like it. No beer in hand, no anger in his posture. Just a man waiting with his hands clasped like he was praying. Or rehearsing.“Hey,” he said when he saw me, standing like I might bolt. “Thanks for coming.”I didn’t answer. Just crossed my arms and stayed three steps back.He gave a soft, practiced smile. “You look good.”I didn’t return it.“I just... I wanted to talk,” he said. “No fighting. No yelling. Just us.”I stared at him. “That hasn’t existed for a while.”“I know,” he said quickly. “I messed up. I wasn’t... thinking clearly. With Patricia. I was drunk, and angry, and I thought you didn’t care anymore.”I blinked slowly. “So you slept with my best friend to punish me?”“No,” he said, like that was ridicul

CARA'S POVIf hell had a modern art wing, it probably looked a lot like my Tuesday morning.Juan stood exactly two paces behind me as I typed at my desk, pretending not to be watching everything. He wore jeans, a fitted black T-shirt, and a bomber jacket that somehow made him look both forgettable and intimidating—like he could either help you fix your sink or make you disappear.“Is he your boyfriend?” Mia whispered, nudging my elbow with a smug grin as she passed.“No,” I said, too quickly.“Looks like one,” she replied, walking off with an exaggerated wink.I sighed.We’d agreed he wouldn’t dress like a guard. The whole point was to avoid drawing attention. But the problem with Juan was that he didn’t need a suit or badge to look dangerous. He carried it in his silence, in the way his eyes tracked every entrance, every shadow. He wasn’t blending in. He was looming.And my coworkers noticed.Selina noticed too.She approached my desk with her usual air of caffeinated dominance, heel

CARA'S POVIt was the first time I’d gone out in days.Jenny insisted. “One coffee won’t kill you,” she’d said. “You need fresh air before you start talking to the curtains.”She wasn’t wrong.The corner café was nothing special—small, warm, a little overpriced—but for a moment, it almost felt normal. People laughed over pastries. Baristas shouted names too quickly. A breeze slipped in every time the door swung open.I stood in line while Jenny grabbed us a table by the window. Juan was already there, eyes scanning the sidewalk through his sunglasses like he was born in surveillance mode. He didn’t sit like a normal person—he perched, like a hawk ready to strike.Still, I tried to forget him for a moment. Tried to pretend I was just another girl waiting for a cappuccino.That’s when it happened.The man behind me bumped into my shoulder.Hard.I turned quickly. “Sorry—”But he didn’t apologize. Just stepped aside and kept looking at the drink menu, like I didn’t exist.Weird, but... w