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Chapter 3
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Charlotte's POV
What a stupid girl to turn down my offer. She clearly has no notion with whom she is dealing. It's absurd that I have to get my hands dirty, but it needs to be done. Jacob will be grateful later. For the time being, I need to get that gal on board.
"Ava!" I yell at the door. "Get in here."
Ava enters the room. I look at her shoes; she hasn't taken them off yet.
"Shoes!" I give the order, and she instantly knocks them off. "Find out who Liam Adams' attending physician is at Saving Grace and call them. Pronto."
She scribbles something on her tablet, and says "Yes, Ma'am," and rushes out the door.
My phone begins to ring. It's Jacob calling.
"My love, it's wonderful to hear from you. What has my grandson been up to recently?" I say into the phone.
"Good day, Gran. I'm sorry for calling at the last minute, but something has come up and I won't be able to make dinner tonight," Jacob apologizes.
"That's just OK, love. Forget about it. Have you given our chat last month any thought?" I charge in, snaring him in my snare.
For a while, he remains mute.
"Yes, I have, and I have decided to honor your wishes. Who am I to deny you your dream for an heir to the Collin throne?" I knew he'd come through at some point.
"My only concern is, who would be willing to enter into such an agreement?" He appears concerned.
"Don't worry, I think I've found the perfect person," I say excitedly. "All you have to do is show up dressed as your dashing self."
"Okay," he responds, "I trust your judgment." He hangs up the phone.
If she agrees to be a surrogate, she must never learn the truth. That's why I need power over her, and her unfortunate brother is an ideal target. It's time to put my strategy into action.
Emily's POV
My phone rings. It's 8 pm. Oh, no, the hospital is calling.
"Are you Miss Adams?" Nurse Emma from Saving Grace is calling. "You need to come over here quickly," a fatigued voice on the other end says.
I spring out of bed and stub my toe on the bedside table. There's no time to think about the aching agony as I grab clothes and rush to get dressed.
Taking the train at this hour is not a good idea, so I use my last $20 to hail an Uber.
When I arrive, the hospital corridors are very quiet. I approach the nurses' station and inquire about my brother. The nurse leads me to the intensive care unit.
Liam is in the corner of the room, with tubes connected to a machine. The machine's beeping sounds mechanical, yet it's almost tranquil because I know it's the only thing keeping him alive.
Dr. Brook enters and takes a seat next me. He places his hand on my shoulder but removes it when I squirm.
"I'm afraid, Miss Adams, your brother has taken a turn for the worse. He urgently requires surgery and a transplant," he says in a fake sincere tone.
I take Liam's hand in mine. It's unusually cold. "How long will it be until you can find a donor?" I inquire as I try to warm his hands.
"We've put him on the transplant list, but the surgery is the priority right now. His kidneys are drowning in fluid as a result of the cysts"
"Fine, do it," I say back, tears flowing down my cheeks.
"You do realize your health insurance doesn't cover it," he says matter-of-factly.
"That's not your problem is it, just make my brother better." I hiss right back at him. I take my bag and sprint away. I look for a quiet place to sit and pull out my phone. Charlotte Collin's phone number has mysteriously made its way onto my speed dial.
When she answers, the phone hardly rings on the other end. "Good day, Emily. How's your brother doing?"
"I'll do it," I answer, my voice quivering, and hang up.
Three days later, I'm sitting in the back of a limo on my way to the Hamptons. The journey is long and I begin to become agitated. A bottle of champagne on ice is beside me. I take a long swig against my better judgment, and my head begins to spin.
My gown is excessively tight, almost constrictive. Earlier that evening, I was straining to breathe. I asked Olivia for advice on what to wear. Without giving too much away, I informed her that I needed to accompany a businessman to an event and that he would pay me for my company. She didn't probe too much and came to her own conclusions.
Finally, we settled on a long, black satin gown that belonged to her grandmother. The strappy dress fits like a second skin. It has an open back that reveals just enough skin to tempt but not seduce.
The driver comes to a soft stop and unlocks my door. He hands me a mask and instructs me to wear it. It only hides my eyes. I get sex cult vibes right away, and I shudder against the cold. I should have brought along a shawl.
The mansion is located on a big estate. Palm trees with glittering lights line the path to the main entrance. I'm brought through the home to a dark bedroom with pillar candles casting phantom shadows on the walls.
In the center is a king-size four-poster bed with white satin covers. When I see rose petals scattered around the bed, I want to laugh, this isnt pleasure it's business.
In another section of the house, I hear a door close. Or was it somewhere in the room? I look around, but no one is there.
I'm about to approach the bed when I feel something or someone touch my shoulder. I turn around, repulsed by the prod. A man is standing in front of me. He's wearing a mask as well.
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Jacob POVIt's a balmy evening. The full moon shines brightly in the night sky.Holding my stare in the mirror, I button up my shirt and straighten my trousers. My hands start to shake, so I pour myself a neat whisky. What's that thing about Dutch courage? Hopefully it works, because I'm nervous as fuck.Taking a deep breath, I put my mask on, turn the doorknob, and opened the door. There she is, standing across the bed from me. You know when you a play a scene over and over again in your head of how it's supposed to go? This wasn't it. Nothing could prepare me for this exquisite specimen standing before me.I'm a man of few words, and even now I'm struggling to string them. together just to get out a "Hi." How am I supposed to have a conversation with her if I can't even speak?She's wearing a black silk dress that is hugging every curve of her body, teasing but not enticing.Her eyes are covered by the mask, but I can see lightly-freckled cheeks accompanying blood red lips. Those li
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Hope starts clapping at the sound of her name, getting Charlotte’s attention. “Oh my gosh, she’s beautiful,” she gasps. “What are you doing here, Mother?” asks my dad. His agitation is a sign that he’s done playing a welcoming party. “I’ve missed so much, haven’t I? And I only have myself to blame,” she says. Hope clamors to get out of Jocasta’s arms and she puts her down on the grass. Slowly, she lifts herself up and her chubby legs begin the unsteady walk to Charlotte. Charlotte breaks her fall with outstretched arms as she comes crashing down. “There’s a good girl,” she says. “You’re a feisty one, just like your mother.” “You haven’t answered Matthew’s question, why are you here?” asks my wife. Charlotte looks at her, “I suppose I’ve come to make a mence and ask for your forgiveness.” “Don’t you think you’re a few years too late?” asks Matthew. “You’re right, I am. But I wanted to say sorry for all the horrible things I’ve done to all of you,” she coughs. “I know my words of
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Jacob is stunned. It’s the first time he’s heard this too. We don’t say anything for a few seconds and wait for the heartbreaking news to settle in. “We have Liam and Hope,” I say. “They’re more than we could wish for.” He takes Hope from my arms and cradles her, whispering into her ear, “Yes, much more than we could wish for.” Liam wants a piece of the action and attaches himself to his dad’s leg, “My turn.” We laugh and Jacob bends down and grabs Liam by the scruff of his T-shirt, “Okay Buddy, your turn.” With both of them in arms, Jacob is finding it hard to balance them, “Yep, I think two are enough.” That night I dream of my mother, the dream as vivid as an oil painting. All my past memories are coming back. It’s as if being given a second lease on life had somehow unlocked a part of my brain I had buried for years. I remember playing in the courtyard garden at Mellon Estate and going on holidays with my folks. And then there’s the memory of that photo - it’s the very first
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I’m in the conservatory with Liam. Dust motes are floating in the sun’s rays while we sit side by side, both of us with a notebook.He’s making squiggles on a page, round and round until the pencil pierces through to the next page. “Do you think Mom loves us?” he asks.“Why do you ask that?” I glance at him and stop drawing. I’m trying to sketch gladiolus flowers from memory but I keep on getting stuck on the intricate detail of the petals. This is my third attempt. I tear the page from the notebook and throw it onto the heap of pages collecting next to me.“Last night she told me I’m not a good boy after I wet the bed. I can’t help it, Emily. Sometimes, it just comes out,” he grimaces.“It’s not your fault, you do know that?” I add. “Mom just gets upset really fast.”“I know, it’s that when she gets like that, I get scared,” he says.I move closer to him, “Do you know, when I get scared, I just tell myself that soon it will be over. Mom doesn’t stay angry for long. You just have to w
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The parking garage is quiet and empty. None of the day shift staff have arrived yet. I stand against the cold wall and gather my skittled thoughts.I was wrong to get angry at Thaddeus. None of this is his fault. If there’s anyone to blame, it has to be me. I’m the only one that’s known about Jocasta’s diagnosis.“Jacob,” shouts Thaddeus from the emergency exit. He jogs towards me and tries to speak but struggles to catch his breath.“Look, I’m sorry. I was so desperate for her to get better, that I may have been too hasty to get her on the treatment,” he breathes. “I honestly thought it was going to work.”“I don’t blame you,” I say. “I was angry and lashed out at you.”“Blame me if you want, because I blame myself,” he says. There’s a dejected look in his eye.“No, I should have told her the truth,” I admit.“The truth about what?” he asks and strands upright.This lie is killing me, I can’t let it destroy my wife and baby as well. Maybe if I confess my sins, my punishment might not
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One evening I got a surprise visitor. There’s a knock behind the door and a wispy brunette peeks her head through the crack; it’s Ophelia.“Helloooo,” she smiles. She’s come bearing gifts, carrying a huge bunch of roses.“Wow, are those for me?” I ask.“Yes, she says. “But if you don’t like them, I can give them to the lady down the hall. I walked into her room by mistake thinking it was yours.”I respond by snatching the flowers from her, and joking, “Give them here!”“I’m glad to see you’re in good spirits,” she adds. “Thaddeus says you’ve been feeling very tired.”I sit upright and say, “That’s an understatement. Let’s just say I may fall asleep while you’re gossiping, so you better make it extra juicy.”Ophelia looks nervously around her, “Then I got nothing for you, I’m afraid.”She takes a seat opposite my bed. I can see something’s bothering her. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask her.“It’s Astrid, I haven’t heard from her for the past few months,” she says. “The last time I spoke to her
