Chapter 005

CHAPTER 5

CASPER.

For an instant, everything felt cold and hot at once. I was too stunned to move, and I sensed she felt the same way, lying half-sprawled on top of me in the elevator, our lips pressed together. Her lips tasted curiously sweet and fresh for someone having such a terrible day.

I didn't bother to push her off me; at least we were in the elevator and not outside, where the press would have twisted this moment into something it wasn't. If this had happened outside, I was sure I would receive a call from the manor in the next three minutes about my irresponsible behavior.

That’s just how the life of Casper Forbes looks every minute of the day.

For the next few seconds, she stayed on top of me. Then she came to her senses, scrambling to push herself off and practically leaping to her feet.

“I-I-I…” she stammered, struggling to articulate herself. Just then, she lost her balance and fell, but I quickly lunged forward and caught her before she hit the floor. “Miss? Miss?” I said, gently tapping her cheeks as I noticed her breath constricting.

She started trembling in the elevator, her body swaying as if she were about to faint. A wave of concern washed over me. What was wrong with her? I couldn’t let her die there; the last thing I needed was more negative headlines for my company while I was still in this mess.

“Cotti!” I called out urgently to my guard, who was always by my side.

“Yes, boss!” he responded, ever ready to follow my orders.

“She’s wheezing! I think she’s asthmatic!” Cotti’s voice crackled through the silence. “She needs medical attention immediately; she’s struggling to breathe.”

With that, he quickly rushed the lady to the company’s hospital while I returned to my office.

Minutes later, Cotti returned, concern etched on his face.

“She’s been treated, but she’s still unconscious. They confirmed she has asthma,” he informed me.

Heaving a deep sigh of relief, I finally walked over to the wine stand and poured myself a glass to calm my nerves.

That lady said she was having one of the worst days ever; well, I could relate—I was going through one of the worst days of my life.

Savoring the wine, I found it tasteless. Cotti had always recommended this wine for lifting moods; perhaps he was right, but it was difficult to enjoy it given what had just happened.

I’m not usually one to care too much; I’m the heir to my father’s title—Prince of Monaco. It may not seem like much, especially since some of my cousins are also princes, but it takes a lot of responsibility to live up to their standards.

This title is mine by birthright, and I’m more than happy to embrace it when the time comes. Monaco may be a tiny country landlocked in the middle of Europe, but this small piece of land will soon be governed by me.

However, things are gnawing at me. Sadly, it’s only by the grace of my grandmother that I even have the title of prince to my name. While that’s always been a difficult pill to swallow, I know there’s little I can do to change it.

And now, four of my younger brothers have children. When Lucas had a daughter, I was unfazed.

Not only was she a girl, but the tiny little thing vomited more than she slept and cried more than she laughed. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want such a monstrosity in their life.

Then my other two brothers, Vlad and Xavier, each had a son around the same time.

At first, I wasn’t impressed with the little boys, but over time, I realized their presence posed a threat to my title since they now had heirs.

I couldn’t help but want a son of my own if only to secure my position as the Prince of Monaco!

I took another sip of wine, staring out over the tall buildings. It’s so unlike me to become obsessed with anything. Even when it comes to women, I have never been attached to any of them.

But the desire to have a son as soon as possible has consumed my thoughts. It’s why I came to the branch of my company in Seattle.

I had been told that the best law firms for handling surrogacy were here.

But, as always, their services disappointed me. I spent the last few days sifting through hundreds of files—women willing to bear a child for a price.

None of them met my standards. Even when I found one who might suffice, she had a condition stating "partial custody of my child."

That would never work for me!

My surrogate would need to play a maternal role in my life and stay with me for some time before I gradually let her go, so the media wouldn't notice.

Even if they did, it would be old news by the time my son was back in Monaco with me.

I had a specific vision of what I wanted: my surrogate must be beautiful, highly educated, and intelligent—capable of holding an engaging conversation. After all, she would need to play the part of my partner until my son was born. Then I would ensure she slipped away, preferably to a place where no one would find her, allowing the press to forget she ever existed in the first place.

My thoughts were interrupted when Cotti opened the door and walked in.

“Sir, it’s time for you to go home,” he said.

“What about the asthmatic girl?” I asked, gauging his expression.

“The doctor says she needs rest,” he replied.

I stroked my beard, contemplating my next move. “Put her in my car. Check the cameras to ensure none of that footage leaks to the press!”

Cotti hesitated but kept his voice low. “Yes, sir.”

He didn’t question me, and I appreciated that. I had my reasons for this unusual request, but they were my own.