All Chapters of Surrogate for the Billionaire Mafia: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

MAEVE Sleep didn't come easy to me. I kept having nightmares. Harrowing ones. I'd woken up twice tonight, sweating profusely and hating the feeling of being alone. It did not even help that a thunder clapped after a strong lightning bolt lit up the skies. I felt like I was in a horror movie, Marina being the villain. I could sense her presence even if I knew fully well that she wasn't here. The thought of it drove me mad. I could feel myself running fucking mad. What she had done to me those past few days? No one deserved it. Not the innocent girls who thought they were coming here to get a better life, only to realize that they had fallen into a trafficking ring and couldn't get out because there was no way they'd be allowed to. In my dreams, their faces flashed, their eyes filled with bloody tears as they stretched out their hands for me to help them. Attaliah let out a blood-curdling scream as she got planted into the ground like a fucking crop. Her blo

MAEVE Maruska lifted his gaze to me, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he took me in. I stood there, dazed. Why was he smiling like I was the second sunshine he had seen this morning? It made me feel really self-conscious. Why was he smiling? Did I have something in my hair? Or on my face? "Why are you smiling?" I asked after taking my seat and seeing he was still smiling. "I don't know," He replied. "Let's forget about that and drink to a good day today," He pulled out a wine bottle from the bucket. This was one different from the one we'd drank that night. There was a champagne flute seated before me and I picked it. "Why is it something we should drink to?" I asked but I still tipped my cup at him. He chuckled. "It's mundane but I want to do it," I shrugged. "Okay, then," We clinked glasses and drank to a good day. It was amusing but the taste of the wine took my mind from it. It had a silky texture and it tasted like grape vines and ap

MAEVE I sat in bed this morning, staring into space. My head was filled with a plethora of thoughts, mostly from last night's ordeal with Maruska. I shuddered as waves and waves of intense memories and flashbacks hit me. Running my fingers through my hair, I contemplated one thought. Was it a mistake? Did I make a mistake by letting my desires control my reaction? I should have steered clear of him. The fact that he had asked me to move into his room wasn't supposed to give him such access to me and I fucking hated myself for allowing that to happen. I mean, I might have enjoyed it a little more than I should have, which wasn't new when it came to him, guilt settled at the pit of my belly. He had a wife. And the only reason I'd ever agreed to do this was all thanks to the fact that she permitted me to sleep with him. But now, I was nothing less than a mistress. A concubine placed in his room to satisfy his desires. I shook off the logical tho

MARUSKA She was asleep now. I watched her, a small smile on my face. Brushing her hair back, I stared at her so intently. I noticed the little specks on her face. They were freckles dotted around her nose, but lighter and almost nonexistent. I wouldn't have noticed those marks if I hadn't started so hard at her. My eyes traveled down her naked body. Gods, the sheer beauty of her skin. She was soft and strong in the right places. I found myself tracing lines down her belly and when she turned on her belly, I laughed. It soon dissipated when I saw the scars on her back. I frowned. Scars? Why did I not see these while massaging her? I sighed when I remembered I'd been deeply distracted by her peachy butt that I didn't even notice anything. These scars looked really old. Like she'd gotten them several years ago because they were now thin white lines like stretch marks. I traced my fingers over them, realizing they were less bumpy. That was why I didn't not

MAEVE "Shhh," he whispered. "No more talks about her." He had pulled away and pressed his finger into my lips, staring into my eyes with so much ardor, like I was a piece of art. "But she's your wife and this, it doesn't feel right." His eyes traveled down my body, and as they did, his fingers followed and he traced lines down my collarbone, causing me to stiffen in response. "You're overthinking this." "I'm not..." He had pulled away, leaving me empty. I felt myself drawing close to him. Tilting his head to the side, he regarded me with a soft smile of concern. "Do you want us to do this?" I shrugged. "It's not like I have an option." If he was angry at that statement I made, he didn't show it. Instead, he cupped my face with both his hands, staring at me like he was boring his eyes into my soul. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I am not forcing you. I know I might have given you that impression in the past, but I assure you,