Chapter 2 The Majestic

Andre Rivero POV

Melissa Villar hesitated only a moment before climbing up into the helicopter. I politely waited until she was seated before following her inside. The roar of the rotors rose an octave, and then the helicopter lurched into the sky.

I tried not to eye Melissa Villar sitting across from me. It was hard not to. We had waited years for the right surrogate. Joemar and I had spent much of the past two weeks researching this woman. I had only met her five minutes before, yet it felt like I knew her as well as I knew anyone.

I pulled out my phone and started a group text.

Me: We’re airborne. ETA ten minutes.

Joemar: I’ll be waiting. How is she?

Me: You’ll like her. She’s perfect.

Joemar: There’s no such thing as perfect. Everyone has flaws. Sometimes, they aren’t apparent until you look closely.

Me: Fine, Mr. Negative. Maybe she’s not perfect, but she’s about as perfect a candidate as we ever could have hoped for.

Joemar: Very good.

Me: She’s a little skittish. I can tell we caught her off guard. I don’t think she knows who Pierre is.

Joemar: Excellent. She will make an objective decision without allowing herself to be persuaded by Pierre’s… details.

Me: Something tells me she’ll figure out those details when we land in Puerto Princesa.

Joemar: True, indeed.

Me: Regardless, she’s an ideal candidate. You’ll like her. I hope she agrees to our second offer.

Pierre: We shall see. Don’t get your hopes up until the contract is signed.

Joemar: Understood.

Me: Yep.

I put my phone away and tried to study Melissa Villar without seeming too obvious. Everything in her file, all the research we had done, indicated she was the perfect surrogate. But the things that weren’t in the file…

She was a tight little thing, compact and fit. There was an alluring curve to her chest and a sexy way that those jeans clung to her athletic legs. Although she had remained quiet on the journey so far, I could tell she had a fighting spirit. The kind of woman who wouldn’t take shit from anyone without a fight.

Yeah, I thought to myself. As long as she buys into the crazy offer we’re about to make, she’s perfect.

XXX

Melissa Villar POV

This is perfectly insane.

I got on the helicopter. Andre opened the door, and I just climbed inside. With someone who was essentially a stranger I had met in an industrial park.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I used to be smart. I didn’t rush into things; I carefully considered situations before making decisions. My time at New Philippine Digital Marketing had made me impulsive. My two weeks since being fired there had made me desperate.

What if my mom was right? What if I’m being sex trafficked?

A flurry of intrusive thoughts bombarded me. I could punch Andre and demand that the pilot take me back. I could scream. I could call the police. I could throw open the door and jump to safety. Was there a parachute in here? Probably not. That was some action movie bullshit. My adrenaline-fueled imagination was running wild.

“Never been on a helicopter before?” Andre asked cordially.

I turned away from the window. “Why?”

He smiled. “You seem… jumpy.”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

Andre shrugged and looked at his phone.

I’d been in a helicopter before. During a family vacation to Hong Kong five years ago, we booked a helicopter tour around the big island. I remember that experience being extremely loud.

This helicopter wasn’t loud. It was quiet, like the inside of a luxury car. I could hear the soft hum of the engine and a faint vibration in the seat, but that was it.

This Joemar Soriano guy and his wife must be very wealthy. Or maybe they were making a show of their wealth to get me to agree to be their surrogate. The agency claimed that some couples waited years before finding the right surrogate. They might be desperate. The entire surrogacy process would cost forty or fifty grand, so what was a few extra thousand to seal the deal?

No, the helicopter probably wasn’t just for show. Andre said he worked for Joemar Soriano. A valet, with a hard T. That sounded like some rich people shit. Andre seemed like a nice guy. He had a calming demeanor that made me relax. My immediate instinct was that I liked him.

Which made me even more suspicious.

Although I didn’t think that I was being kidnapped, I decided to text my mom. Just in case.

Me: Hey, FYI, I’m meeting with the surrogate shortly. They sent a helicopter to pick me up. I’m sharing my location with you as a precaution. Don’t freak out, all right?

Mom: A helicopter? And you just got on it like a kid that was offered free candy?

Me: It’s a helicopter, Mom! Not a windowless van!

Mom: IT MIGHT AS WELL BE! Where are they taking you?

Me: I don’t know. I didn’t ask.

Mom: What if they take you to Malaysia? To Indonesia? They can do whatever they want with you!

Me: I don’t think that’s how that works, Mom. I told you not to freak out. I’m only sharing my location with you just in case.

Mom: I’m calling the police. Your father plays poker with a detective in Quezon City. I’m going to make sure he’s on the case.

Me: MOM, STOP.

Me: You’re overreacting.

Me: Everything is fine.

Me: Ok?

Mom: If everything were fine, you wouldn’t be sharing your iPhone location like a hostage!

Me: I’ll check in with you in an hour. If you don’t hear from me, you have my permission to talk to Dad’s poker detective friend.

Mom: What if they take you out to international waters? What if they’re pirates?

Me: Love you, Mom.

I set a reminder to text her in 45 minutes. Knowing her, she wouldn’t wait the full hour before freaking out.

When I looked out the window again, I didn’t see the roads and buildings of the greater Palawan area. There was only the endless blue of the ocean. I oriented myself; the sun was to our left, which meant we were flying south.

I hope my mom isn’t right. If I’m kidnapped and taken to international waters, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.

“Where are we going?” I asked calmly. At least, I hoped I sounded calm.

Andre ran a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. “To the Majestic.”

“The what?”

“The Majestic is Mr. Soraiano’s ship.” He cocked his head at me curiously. “You still haven’t Googled him, have you?”

I stared at him for five long seconds, then pulled out my phone. By the time I had typed Joemar Soriano into the search engine, it gave me a blank page. I no longer had a cell signal.

“There’s Wi-Fi on the boat,” Andre said, sensing why I was frowning. “We’re actually about to land.”

Sure enough, the sound of the engine changed pitch as the helicopter began descending. It turned, wheeling around in a circle, and I got a glimpse of the boat Andre had referred to.

Except it wasn’t a boat.

It was a fucking mega-yacht.

The scale didn’t seem real until we drew closer. There was a helipad at one end of the yacht, but that circular space took up only a pinprick of the length of the ship. There were five floors—decks?—above the water line and a huge swimming pool on the opposite end as the helipad. The name Majestic was written in cursive script on the side of the ship.

What kind of a name is that, anyway? I wondered. I started to pull out my phone to G****e it, but then remembered that I had no signal.

The landing was so calm that I didn’t realize we had touched down until Andrew opened the door. I climbed out, ducking my head instinctively. Up ahead, next to a doorway leading into the interior of the ship, was another well-dressed man flanked by white-clad servants. He had short blond hair, perfectly combed, and his suit was slate-gray. Everything about him—from the brown dress shoes and matching belt to the perfectly-arranged tie clip, to the gold cufflinks—spoke of a man who preferred everything proper and orderly.

Is this him? I wondered. Is this Joemar Soriano?

XXX