Todos os capítulos de The Billionaire's Virgin Surrogate: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Damian’s POV The Blackwood estate stood tall in the night like a fortress carved from stone. Its elegant walls even in the darkness, sprawling gardens stretched wide under the pale glow of the moon and the dim lamps. Damian tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he drove into the driveway. He had grown up here, every hallway and every echo a memory, but the house had never once felt like home. The butler opened the double doors before he even knocked. “Your father is waiting in the study, sir.” Of course he was. Damian stepped inside, the air heavy with the smell of oak, lavender, and the faint trace of leather polish. He walked down the corridor lined with family portraits—Blackwoods staring down at him, each one a reminder that legacy was supposed to matter more than life itself. The study door stood open. Gregory Blackwood sat in his high-backed chair, the firelight making crackling sounds and throwing sharp shadows across the deep lines of his face. His gray hair gleamed,

Damian's POV Vanessa's heels clicked on the marble floor as she entered, heads up high and confidence oozing out of her like she owned the place. She didn't wait for an invitation, she carried herself with the boldness of a woman who has absolutely nothing to lose, her hips swaying effortlessly with practiced precision, her perfume filling the air, sweet but sharp, an evidence of her presence. Damian set his glass on the table, watching her every step like a predator does its prey. He wasn't surprised she had come back. Vanessa was like fire, always hungry, always consuming, never satisfied. She dropped her coat over the arm of his sofa, standing there in silk that clung to her curves. “No reply?” she asked. “Rough night?” she inquired again. Damian's eyes narrowed. " You should have gone home.” Vanessa smirked, unbothered. “Maybe I don't like being dismissed so easily.” She walked closer, her fingers trailing the edge of the bar, brushing past the glass Damian had abandoned o

Gregory's POV Gregory lingered near the marble staircase, watching the crowd swirl around him. His presence,even in retirement, carried weight. People approached him with bright smiles, shook his hand, exchanged pleasantries, then drifted off to chase others with deeper pockets. But he wasn't even paying much attention to them, his attention was elsewhere. The beautiful young woman he had noticed earlier was now a few feet away from him. Balancing a tray of glasses with practiced ease. She offered one to a guest close by, bowed her head politely, then continued her quiet path. There was no performance, no pretense. Just humility and dignity. On impulse, Gregory stepped forward for a glass. “Thank you”, he said as she offered him a glass of wine. Her eyes flicked up to him,polite but steady. “You're welcome, sir”. Her voice was soft but firm, carrying a sweetness that's different from the desperate ones he was used to. She gave him a small nod, then moved on with her duty, a

Gregory’s POVThe grandfather clock in Gregory’s study chimed six times, its steady toll cutting through the hush of the evening. The old man sat in his leather chair, cane resting against his leg, a book opened in front of him. Fire crackled as flames danced in the hearth, shadows dancing along the tall shelves that lined the walls. Books of history, finance, and legacy—every one of them reminders of the empires men like him had built and passed on.But none of those books mattered more than the heir he demanded from his son.He leaned back, resting his body on the chair’s backrest, his gray eyes fixed on the flames. Damian was thirty-four now. Old enough to rule, old enough to build an empire that stretched across continents. But Gregory had seen the cracks. He knew his son’s strength, but he also knew his weakness: that cold heart, hardened into stone, could one day fracture under the wrong kind of pressure.That was why an heir mattered. A child would secure no