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TWENTY-FIVE: Her Royal Majesty
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The Surrogate's Vendetta TWENTY-SIX: Controversy In The Mansion
Back at the mansion, Chloe was spitting fire and brimstone, her anger and aggression explosive as she recounted her horrific day to her family. She paced back and forth across the living room floor, her heavy footsteps making the walls tremble, like a wild animal caged and ready to burst free as her words poured out like venom, threatening to consume everything in their path. "I just can't understand why she'd try to sabotage me like that, after all the kindness I've shown her." Chloe roared, her eyes blazing with fury as her voice ricocheted off the walls. "What if she'd succeeded. . ." She paused, her mind racing with the dire possibilities. "What if she had succeeded in making the Crown Prince fall for her tricks. . . if she had won his affections. . . where would that have left me? God! The very thought sends shivers down my spine!" With each heated word, Chloe's anger seemed to grow, filling the room with an almost tangible intensity. Her family watched her with
The Surrogate's Vendetta TWENTY-SEVEN: Leaving The Bellerose Mansion
The sky was already a deep shade of indigo and twinkling with stars when Juniper finally arrived at the mansion. Under different circumstances, she would have found the beauty of the starry sky breathtaking and even considered the day a good one. But it wasn't! It was an awful day that left a sour taste in her mouth, and she wished she could just blink and it would erase like it never came. With a subtle limp, Juniper made her way into the mansion, suppressing a moan with each step she took. She had made a stop at the hospital to have her cut treated, but her leg still throbbed like hell. The doctor at the emergency room had questioned her about the injury, but she had fabricated a story about accidentally cutting herself with a cleaver. Though the doctor raised a skeptical eyebrow, he hadn't pushed the issue further, thankfully. Instead, he had recommended that she be admitted for observation or undergo further checks to ensure both she and her unborn child were unharmed. Wi
The Surrogate's Vendetta TWENTY-EIGHT: Juniper's Tragical End?
"I'm keeping the child!" Juniper found herself declaring with all the confidence she could summon. A surge of conviction propelled her forward, and words began to flow from her lips like a river. "I'll raise him, at least until he's old enough to understand. I think every child needs their mother. Yes, he isn't biologically my child. But, I've given him a home within me. I've felt his tiny kicks, his gentle stirrings, and with every passing day, our bond grows stronger. I'm prepared to nurture him, love him, and sacrifice for him. And that, to me, makes me his mother." Antoine cleared his throat "Juniper. . ." "I know what you're about to say," Juniper interjected reasonably. "You're about to say that raising a child is a daunting task and that a Bellerose deserves to be raised in luxury and comfort—which I clearly do not have. And I agree. But, Mr. Clermont, the child needs more than just material comfort. He needs the love, protection, and devotion of a mother. Som
The Surrogate's Vendetta TWENTY-NINE: Camille Thomas
Juniper wasn't sure if it was real or if she was simply hallucinating, but amidst the ear-splitting din of the compactor and the crunching of twisted metal, a distant rumble of a vehicle began to build, growing louder with each passing heartbeat, accelerating into the junkyard with maximum speed. . . and then, a thunderous collision. Suddenly, the compactor came to a clunking halt. It seemed like whoever her savior was had collided with the control panel, thereby stopping the machine from operating and saving her life. Juniper tried to move but she realized her entire body was frozen. She couldn't even move a muscle. She was still shell-shocked from her near-death experience that the frantic banging on the crumpled car door seemed muffled and far-off to Juniper's ears as if she were submerged in a foggy dream. Bang bang! "Juniper!" A woman's pleasant alto voice boomed through with a tinge of dread and urgency in it. "Juniper Laurent, are you in there?" E
The Surrogate's Vendetta THIRTY: Vivienne's Last Will
A frown creased Camille's serene face as she asked, "Vivienne never got to fill you in before the accident?" "No," Juniper retorted, now growing impatient. "What exactly are you talking about? What is it that I do not know?" Camille sighed deeply before she began to explain, "It's about the child you're carrying, Juniper. As long as he has the Bellerose's blood running through his veins, he'll automatically inherit seventy percent of the Bellerose Empire's shares and assets the moment he's born. And whoever happens to be the parents or guardian of the child will have full control over that vast fortune until he turns twenty-two." "What?" Juniper whispered in rampant disbelief. Her senses were on high alert, but she couldn't wrap her mind around what she'd just heard. Was she truly hearing this or just conjuring it up in her frazzled mind? Her mind raced with a flurry of questions. What was the purpose of entrusting an unborn child with such immense power and w
The Surrogate's Vendetta THIRTY-ONE: "I'll make them all pay"
Juniper felt overwhelmed, struggling to process the sheer magnitude of all the revelations. Just when she thought she was starting to grasp the situation, another shocking truth would surface, leaving her reeling. She was bombarded with information, and all she could do was sit frozen, absorb the blows, and desperately pray they did not destroy her. Sitting rigidly on the suddenly uncomfortable couch, Juniper listened keenly and emotionally shattered as Camille recounted the events that had fueled their unyielding determination to take down the Clermont Family. "We were quite younger when our parents died," Camille began, struggling to remain calm. However, she couldn't smother the rage in her voice. "I and my little brother, Adrien, had to live in an orphanage. He was still quite young and had better chances of getting adopted than I was. When I turned twelve and he, was four, a nice, wealthy family came to adopt him, but he didn't want to be parted with me. He wouldn't
The Surrogate's Vendetta THIRTY-TWO: The Gatecrasher
TWO YEARS LATER. . . At the Forêt-Bleue International Airport, a woman emerged from the departure gate, her confidence gripping attention as she rolled a sleek suitcase beside her. She was clad in an exquisite black micro short dress, its V neckline plunging daringly, showcasing a generous amount of her cleavage. The dress hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her toned physique and revealing flawless long legs. Over her stunning ensemble, she swung an elegant black fur coat, draping down to her calves in a subtle sheen. Her silky chestnut hair cascaded below her mid-back in soft waves, nearly camouflaging with the luxurious texture of her coat. As the gentle breeze rippled her hair, a black leaf-shaped diamond earring dangled from each of her ears. The enigmatic woman was Juniper Laurent, a stark contrast to the timid and unassuming woman she used to be. Her every step, every move, and every gesture screamed affluence and sophistication. T
The Surrogate's Vendetta THIRTY-THREE: The Secret Child
In over eight centuries, the Cathedral of Royal Light had witnessed a total of twenty-seven iconic royal weddings, but none had ever descended into chaos like this one. Probably because none of the past weddings had a vindictive woman like Juniper to deal with. Standing amidst the confused and buzzing crowd, Juniper stepped out of the pew, taking hold of the little child's hand sitting next to her—her son, baby Hector Bellerose, who was dressed in a cute, little black tux that made his lustrous blonde hair stand out so perfectly and matched Juniper's dark attire, creating an almost striking similarity between mother and son. Ambling almost at the same pace, Juniper and her tiny protégé, with a confident swagger, ate up the aisle like it was their personal runway as made their way to the altar. All eyes were heavy on them as they walked by, pew after pew. The cameras were clicking even more frequently than earlier, capturing the electrifying moment that was bound t
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The Surrogate's Vendetta SIXTY-TWO: Not His Son
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