บททั้งหมดของ The Cruel Millionaire's Surrogate: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

**Jonathan**I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter and trudged to my office, where I knew the best liquor money could buy awaited. I wanted one glass—something to take the edge off as I processed how my ex-wife fucked the kids up. Despite Grant’s stony exterior, he was fucking gutted. Hearing him call his own mother a psycho was gut-wrenching, but hearing Kiyah yell that she thought Eliza would kill me and she didn’t want me to die, too, was earth-shattering. That poor girl had been through enough, only for Eliza to traumatize her further. Kierra entrusted me with Kiyah, and I feared she’d never forgive me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kierra told me my baggage was too much for her, and she handed in her resignation letter. As much as I’d hope she wouldn’t. I couldn’t blame her. She had to do what she had to do to protect her daughter and her peace.I’m sure this won’t be the last of Eliza. Kierra should get out while she still can before we become too involved.I opened my office d

**Kierra**“The water is still warm…join me.”“You’re ruining my plans,” I said, placing my hands on my hips.“What plans? Period sex?”I narrowed my eyes at him. “Period sex? Where the hell did that come from?”“The towels on the bed.”I sighed and massaged my temples. “I can’t even blame you for thinking that. I can see how the towels could cause some confusion. But no, I planned on giving you a massage after your bath and then fuck you to sleep.”“That’s not a bad idea,” Jonathan mumbled as he pulled the drain out of the tub. I rolled my eyes, handed him a warm towel, and left him to his own devices. I was checking the temperature of the heated body oil when I noticed something amiss.“Rory?”I searched between the nightstand and the bed and became frantic when I couldn’t find it. I threw open all the drawers and searched under the bed.“Kierra? What are you doing down there? I mean, I don’t mind the view.”I huffed and climbed back to my feet.“I can’t find Rory’s picture.” Jonath

**Jonathan**“Where the hell is all the furniture?” Anthony asked in disbelief after I let us into the house.“Hell if I know. Eliza probably pawned it off.”“Forgive me for saying this, but your ex lives in a million-dollar trap house.”I ignored Anthony and started taking pictures of the residence and surveying any damage. I entered the kitchen and rolled my eyes. “Sorry, Anthony, but you’ll have to buy new appliances.”“I expect nothing less from a crack fiend!” Anthony shouted from the living room. “I bet the children don’t have beds upstairs.”The sad part about it is that he’s probably right.We finished touring the house half an hour later, and as Anthony predicted, the kids didn’t even have beds, and there was only a mattress in Eliza’s bedroom.I hope she’s in the process of moving out and not living like this.“What do you think?”“I’m knocking off twenty grand for the appliances,” Anthony informed.“Anthony, if you wanted to fuck me up the ass, just skip the pleasantries an

**Kierra**I was curled up with a pillow, watching Lupin, when I heard the alarm system disengage. I rolled my eyes, picturing Jonathan tiptoeing up the stairs, hoping not to wake us. I waited a few minutes before padding to his bedroom. I was relieved to hear the shower running and planted myself at the foot of the bed. Ten minutes passed before Jonathan left the bathroom, bringing his warm, masculine scent and the billowing steam from the shower with him.I may or may not have licked my bottom lip when he walked past me in nothing but a towel. The print was printing! Stop it, Kierra. This man looks like Freddy Krueger had a go at him. Focus!“I didn’t expect you to be awake,” he mumbled.“I gathered that when you stayed out late, you were skulking around in the dark.”“Skulking?” he snorted, pulling pajama pants out of the dresser. “Hardly.”Sir, you need to go right back in that dresser and get some boxers because I’m weak!“Let me get a good look at you,” I sighed, leaving the bed

**Kierra**I stared at myself in the mirror and still couldn’t believe the woman before me. “Simone wasn’t lying when she said I’d look and feel like a million bucks,” I murmured, turning to the side to check out my ass.The spa? Chef’s kiss. I’d never been pampered like that in my entire life, and it didn’t take much for the esthetician who serviced me to talk me into their monthly membership. I practically threw my debit card at the receptionist once we were finished. I received a facial that minimized my pores and left me glowing, a manicure and pedicure, and a deep-tissue massage. Afterward, we hit up Simone’s favorite hair salon. I hadn’t had my hair professionally done in a hot minute, and it showed when the stylist started clipping away at my dead and split ends. I was adventurous and told her to style my hair into a bob. I was nervous. I had long hair for as long as I could remember, but running behind four young children didn’t leave much time or energy for maintenance. It ha