Semua Bab His Heartbroken Surrogate : Bab 31 - Bab 40

CARA's POVThe lights weren’t too harsh, but I still felt like I was under a spotlight.A small group of elite buyers, all dressed in silk ties and sharp heels, sat in folding gallery chairs with calm, unreadable expressions. The Faulkner paintings lined the wall behind me—six of them, glimmering in their minimalist frames. One brushstroke out of place and the whole thing would feel amateur. I swallowed hard.Mia gave me a thumbs up from the corner.I took one last breath.And then I spoke.“Thank you all for coming today. We’re honored to showcase the late Faulkner estate—six original pieces, each with distinct provenance and historical importance.”The second I started talking, something shifted. My nerves didn’t vanish completely, but they slid into the background. My voice steadied. My palms stopped sweating.I stepped closer to Monarch at Dusk, the oldest in the collection. “This particular piece was originally part of the Edgarton Collection in Scotland before being acquired by

CARA's POVI hadn’t even opened my eyes yet, but I could feel it under my pillow.That slim, heavy card.I rolled onto my side, the morning light slicing through the drapes in pale gold streaks. My fingers found it instinctively—smooth edges, embossed texture, the faint scent of cologne still clinging to it. I pulled it out, holding it up above me like it might suddenly whisper secrets if I stared long enough.David.A name too simple for the chaos it had stirred in me.I twirled the card between my fingers. There was something about the way he’d looked at me—like he saw more than just a junior curator fumbling for relevance. Like I was a player in a bigger game. A temptation of some kind.And the number he’d thrown out so casually—one hundred million each. Not forty. Not fifty. A hundred.It was absurd. It was thrilling.It made me feel powerful.And also a little sick.Brrrzt.I startled as my phone buzzed beside me. I dropped the card and fumbled to answer. Selina.Of course.I ans

CARA's POVI dumped the canvases on my bed with a soft huff, the weight of them nothing compared to the one still sitting on my chest.David’s voice hadn’t left me all evening. It slithered through my thoughts like silk—smooth, dangerous, impossible to ignore. And the card… still tucked into the side pocket of my bag like a lit match waiting for oxygen.I ran a hand over my forehead and sat on the edge of the bed, eyes trailing over the blank wall I had planned to fill. Somehow it felt heavier now. Like everything did lately.A knock pulled me upright.Before I could respond, the door opened and Wesley stepped in.No suit. Just dark slacks, a white shirt rolled at the sleeves, the top two buttons undone. His black jacket hung lazily from one shoulder like he’d thrown it on without thinking. The whole look was casual in theory—but on him, it felt calculated. Effortless and commanding. The same way he looked when he barked orders in the surveillance room, except now… quieter. Looser.My

CARA's POVSoft jazz curled out into the hallway from the open double doors of his penthouse. Low lighting bathed the entryway in gold and deep brown, all wood accents and moody shadows. Every inch of the suite felt expensive. No—intimate. The kind of place where secrets were whispered and rules didn’t matter.I stepped in, clutching my coat a little tighter, trying not to look overwhelmed. But I was. This wasn’t just luxury—it was calculated warmth. The kind that was built to soften you before you even realized it.“Cara,” David’s voice came from across the room—smooth, low, like he was saying something far more intimate than my name.He was standing near the window, backlit by the city, holding two glasses of something amber. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled to the elbow, barefoot in slim dark pants that somehow made him look more dangerous, not less.“Wow,” I said before I could help it, glancing around.He smiled, stepping toward me. “Let me guess… a littl

CARA's PoVI jolted upright from the bed, still breathless, the sheets a tangle around my hips. My heart hadn’t slowed since the call. My phone was still open beside me, David’s last message lingering on the screen.I grabbed it and killed the display in a panic.Another knock. Slower this time.Shit.I scrambled to my feet, tightening the robe I’d thrown on earlier, smoothing down my hair with one hand and swiping at my flushed cheeks with the other. My fingers still trembled. Everything from the last ten minutes still buzzed under my skin.I opened the door.Wesley.He stood barefoot in the hallway, wearing a faded black sweatshirt and matching joggers. His face was unreadable, jaw shadowed with the beginnings of a late-night stubble. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at me—calm, sharp, too observant.“Is everything alright?” he asked, voice low.“Fine,” I said, stepping back quickly. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”His eyes flicked over me—my face, my robe, the faint glow still