Chapter 5

Ethan’s POV

As I sat in my study, the golden light of dusk streaming through the window, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

The whiskey in my hand had long since turned warm and bitter, but I continued to hold onto it, swirling the liquid absentmindedly as I replayed the events of the past few weeks in my head.

I had thought the surrogacy arrangement with Sophia Parker, a woman I had barely known, would be a simple transaction. She needed money, and I needed an heir. It seemed like a perfect solution.

My father's demand had been ringing in my ears —produce an heir or lose everything. And so, I had turned to surrogacy, believing it to be a straightforward and logical decision.

"This was supposed to be simple," I sighed, setting the glass down with a soft clink.

Yet, each day, I found myself drawn to Sophia more than I had anticipated. Her resilience and fiery spirit clashed with my cold, calculated demeanor, creating a tension that was both unsettling and intriguing

I leaned back in my chair, thinking about her, the waitress I had impulsively offered a million dollars to be my surrogate. Her father’s wrongful imprisonment and the burden of her debt had made her desperate enough to accept my offer, despite the humiliating terms and how I made things difficult for her.

“Why her?” I often asked myself.

I remembered our first meeting. Her defiant eyes and the way she held herself despite the despair that clung to her. She was stubborn, fiercely so, and it irritated me. Yet, it also intrigued me.

"Ethan, you idiot," I whispered.

"She's just a surrogate."

When she revealed that her father had passed away, I couldn't handle the pain and compassion I felt for her. Yet somehow, I managed to be cruel to her.

Later that same night, I found myself returning to her room, though I can't fully explain why. But now, I can't allow myself to make the same mistake again.

I need to avoid her at all costs.

“This is just merely business, and business it shall remain.”

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called out.

One of the maids entered, her eyes downcast.

“Sir, dinner is ready. Will Miss Parker be joining you?”

“No,” I replied curtly.

“She’s not to be disturbed.”

The maid nodded and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts again.

I couldn't ignore the way my heart had ached for her when I found her sobbing over her father's death.

I couldn't shake the memory from my mind, constantly replaying the moment I stood at her door. My heart told me to enter and be by her side, but my mind was filled with doubts and uncertainties.

Eventually, I stepped inside and sat next to her, torn between wanting to be close and fearing the unknown.

Her reaction to my presence and her vulnerability had me unsettled. She wasn't supposed to matter beyond the surrogacy, but she did. And that bothered me more than I cared to admit.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath, pushing away from the desk.

Weeks have passed, and I have successfully avoided Sophia even though we have been in the same house. I only watched her from my window while she sat outside to read a book or play chess all by herself.

I smiled to myself, seeing how crazy this lady was. Who plays chess on their own??

The phone rang, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced at the caller ID and felt a familiar knot tighten in my stomach. It was my father. I took a deep breath and answered.

"Ethan." His voice boomed through the receiver, commanding and impatient. "Any news on the heir?"

"Not yet, Father," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"These things take time."

"Time is a luxury we don't have," he snapped.

"The board is getting restless. They need assurance that the Westwood legacy will continue."

"I'm doing everything I can," I said, frustration creeping into my tone. "Sophia is the right choice. We just need to be patient."

"Patient?" he scoffed. "I've been patient long enough. If you can't deliver, Ethan, I'll have no choice but to consider other options.

"What do you mean by 'other options'?" I asked, a cold chill running down my spine.

"I mean exactly what you think," he replied.

"This is your last chance, Ethan. Don't fail us."

The line went dead before I could respond. I slammed the phone down, anger and desperation coursing through me.

The thought of losing everything I had worked for was infuriating. I couldn't let that happen.

I started questioning everything. Was she genuinely trying, or was this all some elaborate sham? She seemed nice and likable, but no one was that good.

My frustration reached a boiling point. What if Sophia was taking birth control pills to avoid getting pregnant? The thought infuriated me, and I couldn't hold back any longer. I stormed out of my study and headed straight to her room.

"Sophia!" I bellowed as I burst through the door. "Are you taking birth control pills to avoid getting pregnant? Are you trying to deceive me?"

I stopped short, my anger evaporating in an instant. Sophia was curled up in bed, looking pale and fragile. My breath hitched as I stared at her.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath as I approached her bedside.

“Sophia, what’s wrong?”

She barely opened her eyes; her voice was weak.

“I don’t feel well.”

I placed my palm on her forehead and felt the heat radiating from her skin. Panic surged through me. Without thinking, I scooped her up in my arms, holding her bridal style.

“Hang on,” I said, my voice more tender than I intended. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

As I carried her out, anger bubbled up inside me. "Damn it!" I cursed under my breath. "How could this happen?"

I stormed through the halls, my fury directed at the staff. "Where the hell were you?" I barked at one of the maids who appeared, wide-eyed and trembling. "She's burning up, and none of you noticed?"

"Mr. Westwood, we—" she stammered, but I cut her off.

"No excuses. Heads will roll for this. Do you understand? I want every one of you to be alert and attentive. This is unacceptable."

I barely registered their nods as I marched out, my focus solely on getting Sophia to the hospital.

As I drove, I couldn't help but blame myself. "I should have been here," I muttered angrily.

"I avoided her, and now look what's happened."

I glanced at her periodically, her head resting against the seat, her breaths shallow.

“Ethan,” she murmured, barely conscious.

“Shh, save your strength,” I said, tightening my grip on the steering wheel and pressing my feet against the accelerator.

“We’re almost there.”