All Chapters of I Became The Surrogate For A Divorced Alpha and Luna: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

EVELYN My phone rings just outside the consultation clinic. I look at the name and it's the last one I want to see. It's Thomas. My ex. I let out an irritated sigh and pick up. "Hello, Sugar Plum." "What do you want?" My voice comes sharp. "Woah, someone's feisty." He chuckles. "I don't have time for this. What do you want? I have an interview in a few minutes." "Mh okay. Well, the boss wants his money, so you know what that means." My brows knit. "Huh? It isn't even month end yet." "I know that, Sugar Plum. But the bossman has demanded it. And he always gets what he wants. So you coming or nah?" I let out a low hiss. This bastard. I dated this scumbag at one of the lowest points in my life, when I first moved to the city. But I quickly grew weary of his dangerous, gang lifestyle and ended things. When my mom fell sick, I brought her from my hometown to take care of her. But she only got sicker and the medical bills piled up. With no one else to turn to, I took a loan from

The transplant happens three weeks later. They take me to a private wing of the same clinic and the procedure is quiet and fast. I lie on the table with my legs spread and stare up at the ceiling lights. I am nervous the whole time, even though I have done this before. It isn’t painful — merely uncomfortable — but the whole journey ahead leaves me on edge. The endocrinologist notices and gives me some words of comfort while he works. And just like that it is over as quickly as it began. He checks a few things and looks at me. “It took,” he says. “The pregnancy is confirmed.” I already feel it. I know it is impossible at that point but I feel it — something small and new settling and making a nest in my body. I rest my hand on my stomach without thinking. I meet the Crosses outside the procedure room. Celeste stands up the moment I step out, coming to hold me and ask how I feel. Her scent is warm and protective, and it makes me feel much at ease. When I tell her I am okay, h

The summons arrives two days later via phone call from Celeste.She says it’s a private court session and my attendance is required. I ask what it’s about and she reassures me that everything will be fine. Her tone is firm and confident, but me? Not so much.Still, I dress carefully that morning in the loosest dress I own, all in a bid to hide the early curve of my stomach. Then I pin my blond hair back and stare at myself in the mirror for a long moment.I have gotten significantly bigger — not just from being pregnant but also from staying in this luxurious condo where everything is provided for.I look down at my stomach and think of the baby growing inside of me. Court sessions in divorces never lead to anything good.What if—?I quickly shake the thought away. ‘Focus on positive things only, Evelyn,’ I remind myself. Then I grab my purse and go downstairs.Ramirez is waiting downstairs by the door of a black SUV. I get in and he drives me to a big firm at the end of the financial

**** Trigger warning: the following scene includes a non-consensual act which may be triggering for some viewers (not written in explicit detail.) Reader's discretion is advised.**** “Yes or no?” he repeats, like he's asking about something casual. My skin prickles and my hands curl at my side. I hate this, how my first instinct is to calculate instead of scream. That's all my life has ever been. Calculations. No matter where I am, I can never escape it. The pictures are already on his phone. And he already knows who the mother of the child is. There's nothing I can do but give in now. Left without a choice, I sit next to him, stomach already turning from his overpowering smoky scent. “If I do this… you'll delete them?” I ask naively. He raises a palm, a small smile tugging at his lip. “You have my word.” I hesitate once more before I reluctantly nod, moving closer to him. His palm lowers to unfasten his belt and his zipper unlatches, the sound sharp in the quietness.

The paparazzi find the new address within thirty-six hours. They camp on the sidewalk out front with their cameras pointed up at the building, waiting for me like a loaded gun. The moment I shift the curtain, flashes half blind me and people scream out questions that make me feel sick. "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WITH MR. CROSS?!" "DO YOU THINK HAVING HIS BABY WILL MAKE THE CHILD A LEGITIMATE CROSS HEIR?!" "CELESTE LAURENT! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY TO HER NOW THAT YOU RUINED HER MARRIAGE?" I snap the windows shut and try not to let their words affect me. It's all a misunderstanding, I remind myself. But it's impossible not to let their words sting. I'm the other woman. Celeste is the wronged wife. And the pregnancy is proof of Lucien's betrayal. Online, the story has already become something much uglier. People have looked into my background, my humble beginnings, and painted me as a desperate gold digger. A social climber. I stand a few feet back from the window, snea