Liora's POV
I stared at him.
That was my first mistake. You aren't supposed to stare at men like Darian Volkov...You're supposed to look at your shoes and wait for them to tell you the world is ending.
He was beautiful. That was the messy, intrusive thought that popped into my brain. It was a stupid thought. It was a dangerous thought. He looked like something carved out of a block of ice...sharp, cold, and perfect. His eyes were a blue so pale they looked like frozen steel. They didn't look like human eyes. They looked like high-definition cameras recording every flaw on my skin.
He's too beautiful to be this heartless, I thought. Then I corrected myself. No, that's exactly why he's heartless. He doesn't have to be anything else.
He didn't offer me a seat. He didn't ask if I was thirsty. He just walked around his desk. He moved like a wolf..quiet, slow, and full of a power that made the air in the room feel heavy.
"You're shaking," he said.
"It's raining outside," I snapped. My voice sounded higher than I wanted it to. I sounded like a child. I hated it.
"I am aware of the weather, Liora. I own the glass between us and the sky." He walked in a circle around me. I felt like I was being inspected by a buyer at a livestock auction. I kept my back stiff. I kept my chin up. But I could feel a stray piece of hair stuck to my cheek. I wanted to brush it away, but I didn't want to move. I didn't want him to see my hands shaking again.
He stopped behind me. I could feel the heat coming off his body. It was weird. He looked so cold, but he felt warm. Like a furnace hidden behind a wall of ice.
"Underweight," he muttered. It wasn't a comment to me. It was a note to himself. "Malnourished. Disheveled. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in months."
"I eat," I said, turning to face him. I shouldn't have turned. Now he was too close. I had to look up to see his face..."I work in a diner. I eat plenty."
"French fries and grease do not make a healthy vessel," he said. He reached out. For a second, I thought he was going to touch my face. My heart did a panicky little flip-flop. But he didn't touch me. He just tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers were cold. The touch lasted less than a second, but it felt like a brand.
I flinched away.
"Don't," I whispered.
He pulled his hand back. He didn't look angry. He looked interested. Like I was a puzzle he hadn't quite solved yet. "You have a lot of pride for someone with twelve dollars in the bank."
"It's thirteen," I lied. I don't know why I lied. It was a stupid, small lie. He knew the truth anyway.
He walked back to his desk. Every step he took made me feel smaller. I looked around the office. It was so big. So empty. There were no pictures of family. No books that looked like they'd actually been read. Just stone and glass and shadows.
"Xavier told you the terms?" he asked.
"Surrogacy," I said. The word felt like a stone in my mouth.
"A bloodline," he corrected. "I need an heir. You need a miracle. I am the only miracle you are ever going to get, Liora. Do you understand that?"
I looked at the floor. The muddy water from my shoes was making a dark circle on his expensive wood floor. I felt a weird urge to apologize for the mess. Then I remembered he was buying my body and I felt like screaming instead.
"I understand," I said.
"Do you? Because once you sign, there is no 'I changed my mind.' There is no 'I want to see the baby.' There is only the contract. You give me what I need, and I give your mother the life she shouldn't have been able to afford."
"She's my mother," I said. "She's not a line item in a budget."
"To me, everything is a line item," Darian said. He sat down in his leather chair. He looked so comfortable. So in control. I felt like I was drowning in the middle of his office. "You think you're special because you love her. You're not. You're just another person with a price. Yours just happens to be her medical bills."
"Why are you wasting time,Open it." he commanded.
I didn't move. I looked at the folder. It was dark. It was heavy. It looked like the end of the world.
"Is the wire transfer ready?" I asked. My voice was steady now. I was done being a puddle. If I was going to be an asset, I was going to be a sharp one. "Xavier said you hadn't hit the button yet."
Darian leaned forward. The light from the desk lamp caught the sharp line of his jaw.
"The money moves the second your ink hits the paper. Not a second before...Your mother is currently in a transport van. If you don't sign, that van turns around. They don't take her to the private wing. They take her back to the hallway where you left her."
He was a monster. I knew it then. I felt it in the pit of my stomach. He wasn't just doing business. He was enjoying the leverage....He liked the way I was looking at him...with a mix of fear and pure, unadulterated hate.
"Open it, Liora. Read your future."
I reached out. My hand was pale against the black desk. I touched the folder. It was cold. It felt like it had been sitting in a freezer. I opened the first page.
The words blurred together for a second. Agreement of Genetic Succession. Waiver of Parental Interest. Medical Power of Attorney.
"It's a lot of pages," I whispered.
"It's a lot of money..." he replied.
I looked up at him. He was watching me. He wasn't even pretending to do work. He was just watching me read. I felt like I was under a microscope. I felt messy. I felt like my skin was too tight for my body.
I thought about the "Emergency Alert" on my phone. I thought about the sound of my mother's labored breathing. I thought about the trash bags on the sidewalk.
I had no choice. I knew I had no choice the moment I got into that car. But seeing it in black and white made it feel real. It made it feel like I was dying, too.
"There's a pen right there," Darian said. He pointed to a silver pen resting on the desk. It was heavy. It looked like a weapon.
I looked at the pen. I looked at the signature line.
Liora Hayes.
My name looked so small on that big, expensive piece of paper.
"What happens if I can't get pregnant?" I asked. My mind was racing. Contradictions were jumping around in my head. I wanted to sign to save her, but I wanted to run to save myself. I wanted him to touch me again, but I wanted to kill him for the way he looked at me.
"We keep trying," Darian said. His voice was flat. "Until the contract is fulfilled. You don't leave until I have what I paid for."
I felt a shiver that had nothing to do with being wet. You don't leave.
I looked at the elevator. The doors were closed. Xavier was standing by them like a statue. There was no way out. Not unless I wanted to walk back out into the rain with nothing but my father's notebook and a dying mother.
I picked up the pen. It was cold, just like everything else in this room. My hand hovered over the paper. The ink was so black it looked like a hole.
"Liora," Darian said.
I looked up.
"Make sure you understand the last clause. The one about the estate."
I flipped to the last page. My eyes scanned the simple, blunt grammar of his legal team.
The Surrogate shall remain on the Volkov Estate for the duration of the term. No outside contact. No exceptions.
"A prison," I said.
"A gilded cage " he corrected. "But the bars are solid gold, Liora. Most people would kill for those bars."
"I'm not most people," I said.
I looked at the pen. I looked at him. My heart was a drum in my ears. If I do this, I'm not Liora Hayes anymore. I'm just a house for his child. But if I don't... my mom dies.
My thumb moved over the silver barrel of the pen. It was so heavy.
"Are you going to sign," Darian asked, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a threat, "or are you waiting for me to tell you how this ends?"
I bit my lip. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But I knew. I knew I was going to do it.
