Semua Bab The Billionaire’s Surrogate : Bab 41 - Bab 50

ALEXANDER’S POVI am pouring myself a glass of whiskey when my phone buzzes across the table. I glance at the screen, and the name flashing makes my brows knit together.Sophia.I hesitate. For a second, I wonder if it’s some mistake, if maybe she dialed me accidentally. She hasn’t called me in months—not since that last confrontation when I made it clear there was nothing left between us. But my thumb hovers and, against my better judgment, I answer.Her voice slinks through the receiver like velvet dipped in poison. “Alex… I thought you’d never pick up. You sound… lonely.”My jaw tenses. The way she speaks, like she knows just how to find the cracks in me. I almost hang up, but her words dig in deeper than I expect. Lonely. The exact word I’ve been trying to run from these past days.“Why are you calling me at this time, Sophia?” My tone is sharp, but the edge feels dull even to my own ears.“Oh, don’t sound so cold,” she kisses her teeth. “I was just… thinking of you. You’ve been

EMMA’S POVThe steering wheel is warm beneath my palms, but my fingers still shake. I sit in the driver’s seat, parked outside my flower shop. The sign above the glass door sways lightly in the breeze and the mud-stain flower pots around the building planted to the ground while the variety of flowers follow the gentle breeze.My chest is heavy with thoughts of staying at the shop or driving down to Alex’s to spill my heart and tears. I keep asking myself the same question over and over again. Do I walk in and pretend my world isn’t falling apart? Or do I drive straight to Alexander’s house and face whatever storm waits there?Through the windshield I see John dusting off the steps. His broom scratches against the floor and I while away time listening to the sound. He sees my car and waves, cheerful, like nothing has changed. I force a smile back.I alight from the car and made to the door. I push it open, stepping into the faint perfume of fresh roses mixed with dust from the morning.

ALEXANDER’S POVEmma’s car peels away from the driveway, her taillights swallowed by the bend of the road. I stand there, jaw tight, fists clenched, watching the woman who should never have walked into my life and yet now feels impossible to live without… drive away.And then, perfume trailing like smoke from a fire that won’t die, Sophia steps into the vacuum she left behind.My eyes narrow. “What the hell are you doing here?” I take two steps away from her.Her lips curve slowly. “Starting the morning with you and putting Emma in her place.”The words slither through me like poison. I can feel the heat in my chest as anger pushes against my ribs.“Do not spoil my morning, Sophia,” I warn. “Don’t stand here with that smugness and try to play games with me. Go get something useful to do with your life instead of circling mine like a vulture.”Her painted brows lift, mocking. “You’re actually going to work?” She tilts her head, eyes dancing with disbelief. “Since when does Alexander Wi

Emma’s POVThe smell of hibiscus tea floats through the living room — warm, sweet, with that faint tang of sun-dried leaves. Mom likes it sugary, the kind that stains the tongue red. She says it makes her feel alive.She sits near the window, sunlight pressing gently through her thin curtains, turning her hair into soft streaks of grey gold. “Did you water the lilies?” she asks.Her robe is neatly tied, her eyes half on me and half on the world outside; that old, knowing gaze that sees everything and still pretends it doesn’t.I smile as I wipe my hands on the dish towel. “Yes, Mom. They’re already budding again.”She hums, slow and pleased. “You always had a hand for life. Even as a child, when you touched things, they stayed alive longer.”I laugh lightly. “Maybe they just pity me.”Her lips twitch into a smile, but she doesn’t answer. The fan spins above us, lazy and humming. The room smells of her fresh soap and time. There’s always peace at home; fragile, soft, the kind that fee

ALEXANDER’S POVThe sound of the door closing after her echoes through the room.For a long time I just stand there, hands in my pockets, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened.She looks at me like I crossed some invisible line.And maybe I have.I never planned to try to kiss her. It isn’t some known move. It is instinct — something that happens before reason has time to interfere. One second she is standing there, eyes soft and uncertain, and the next I am leaning in like a man who has forgotten the difference between business and desire.She steps back so fast it burns.Then she is gone.Now the air in the office feels heavier than it should. I exhale slowly, jaw tightening.Why did I even try to do that?The answer hits me — it is because I want to. Because every time she looks at me with that guarded fire in her eyes, something in me cracks open.But it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter.Sophia brushes through my thoughts like a curse. I run a hand through my hair, pa