Surrogate For The Billionaire CEO Brothers

HAZEL POV

~•~

My alarm buzzed at six, same as always. I slapped it quiet and lay there a second, my eyes stuck to the crack in the ceiling. My back hurt from the desk chair I’d fallen asleep in, bills spread out like a bad hand of cards. I pushed up, rubbed my face, and padded to the kitchen in socks with holes at the heels.

The wallpaper curled near the baseboard, yellow flowers gone brown. Mails of eviction notices and other bills stacked high on the little round table, one envelope from the daycare with Adaline’s name in the window. I shoved them aside and filled the kettle.

“Mommy?” Adaline’s voice floated from her room, sleepy but happy. “I dreamed about a castle with gummy bear windows.”

I smiled before I even saw her. She stood in the doorway in her dinosaur pajamas, hair wild, cheeks pink. “Gummy bear windows? That’s new.”

She ran over and hugged my legs. “They were chewy and rainbow. Can we build one today?”

“After work, baby. First, you need breakfast.” I lifted her onto the counter so she could watch me stir. The spoon clinked against the pot. Steam rose, smelling plain but warm.

Adaline kicked her feet. “Oatmeal again?”

“Best oatmeal in the city,” I said. “Mommy had some extra love stirred in.”

I scooped the mush into her favorite blue bowl with the chip on the rim. “Tell me more about the castle while you eat.”

She took the spoon like a microphone. “Okay, so the drawbridge was made of licorice ropes, and the moat had goldfish crackers swimming in it. And guess who lived there?”

“Who?”

“You and me and a puppy named Sir Barks-a-Lot.”

I laughed, the sound surprising me. “Sir Barks-a-Lot? Fancy.”

“He wears a crown,” she said, mouth full. “And he guards the gummy windows so nobody licks them.”

“Nobody licks windows on my watch,” I promised. I poured her milk, careful not to spill. My own cup got tap water. “What else?”

She looked up. “Mommy, why do you look sad?”

“Mommy isn’t sad baby.” I brushed a curl from her eyes. “Now Finish up. We’ve got a bus to catch.”

She shoveled faster. “Can Sir Barks come to daycare?”

“He’s on guard duty at the castle, remember?” I lifted her down and wiped her chin. “Go pick your dress.”

“Yes!” She dashed off, bare feet slapping the floor.

I stared at the empty pot, then at the stack of bills.

Adaline returned, arms full of dress and a plastic tiara. “Help?”

I knelt, slid the pink cotton over her head. “There. Princess of the gummy castle.”

She twirled. “Do I look pretty?”

“Prettiest.” I kissed her forehead, tasting baby shampoo. “I’ll grab your bag.”

In the hallway mirror I caught my reflection. My eyes now had dark circles and my hair was tied in a messy knot, Twenty-eight years old and I was already looking fifty. 

Adaline tugged my hand. “Mommy, will you draw the castle tonight?”

“Promise.” I locked the door behind us.

Outside, the city hummed. Cars honked, a bus hissed at the curb. I checked my watch. If we hustled, we’d make the 7:25.

At the bus stop, Adaline pressed her face to my hip. The bus pulled up, so I swiped my pass, lifted her on and soon we found seats near the back. 

The bus lurched forward. I stared out at the gray morning, her head heavy on my chest.

At the daycare, Miss Clara, Adaline’s teacher, met us at the gate. Her smile was tight. “Ma’am, a quick word?”

I set Adaline down. “Go find your cubby, sweetie. I’ll be right there.”

Adaline waved and ran inside.

Miss Clara folded her arms. “Madam, payment was due Friday.”

“I know. I get paid Thursday—”

“This is the third late notice.” Her voice stayed low, but kids’ laughter floated behind her. “We love Adaline, but rules are rules.”

“I have ninety-three now. I’ll bring the rest by Friday, swear on everything.”

She sighed. “No extensions?”

“I promise.” My voice cracked. “Thank you.”

I watched her walk away, then turned before the tears came.

I clutched the warm paper in my hands and stepped back into the cold. I still had the rest of the day waiting to tire me out.

At work, I sat at my desk, sorting blueprints into neat piles while the senior architects talked over me. Mr. Harlan’s voice cut through the meeting room like a dull knife. “Hazel, just file these and grab coffee for the team. We don’t need your sketches today.”

I nodded, cheeks hot. “Sure, Mr. Harlan.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrow. “And let’s not forget why clients hesitate. Your last name still carries weight, Hunter. Bad weight.”

The room went quiet. I felt every stare. My dad’s scandal of embezzlement charges hung thick in the air. I grabbed the blueprints and left before anyone saw my hands shake.

At lunch, I hid in the break room with my phone. I’d been searching for new jobs just so I could quit this sham of a job and get a good pay.

Job listings scrolled past my screen. Jobs for junior architect, mid-level designer, positions I could do blindfolded. But each one asked for background checks so I didn’t even bother.

Then out of nowhere, a private forum popped up in my feed. I clicked out of habit and one ad stood out.

“CONFIDENTIAL SURROGACY OPPORTUNITY”

I stared until the screen blurred. There was no way they were willing to pay a million dollars for a surrogate. That was more that enough to wipe my debts, keep Adaline in daycare, maybe start my own firm.

My thumb hovered but then I closed the tab. No way I was getting pregnant again, not after last time.

The afternoon dragged. I fetched coffee, printed reports, forced a smile through the day, and by five, I picked up Adaline from daycare. She ran to me, arms wide.

“Mommy! Did you build a castle today?”

“Not yet, baby.” I hugged her tight. “Soon.”

Dinner was pasta with canned sauce. Adaline ate every bite before I tucked her into bed.

“Story, Mommy.”

I sat on the edge of her bed, voice soft. “Once there was a princess who drew castles in the sky. She built gardens on rooftops so flowers could touch the clouds. One day, she made a tower so tall, the stars came down to say hello.”

Adaline’s eyes fluttered shut. “Did she live happily ever after?”

“Every day,” I whispered.

The apartment was quiet after she slept. I sat at the kitchen table, bills spread like a losing hand. The numbers stared back, cruel and final.

I opened my laptop and went back go clicking the surrogacy ad that waited in my history.

My stomach twisted. I remembered being pregnant with Adaline, back when I wollen feet, midnight cravings, and the cold memories of his hand on my belly before he vanished. 

I pulled open a drawer and found the old photo. As much as I hated to admit it, Adaline had his eyes and his smile and everyday day she reminded me of him against my will.

I closed the drawer and almost immediately, Lila called.

“Hey, you okay?” Her voice was warm, tired from her shift.

“I’m fine.” I lied.

“You sound different Hazel. Talk to me.”

I laughed, but it cracked. “Just bills. Same story.”

“Submit your rooftop garden design to that contest. I keep telling you.”

“I don’t have time. Or money for entry fees.”

“Hazel. You’re talented. Why don’t you stop hiding huh?”

“I’m not hiding. I’m surviving.” I answered, trying my best to keep a straight voice.

Silence stretched and then out of nowhere, Lila offered to help me babysit my daughter.

“You work doubles. I’m not dumping Adaline on you.” I tried to protest.

“You’re not dumping. You’re letting me love my goddaughter. Say yes.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Maybe.”

“Stubborn. Just call me if you need anything, okay? Anything.”

“I will. Night, Lila.”

“Night, babe.”

I dropped the phone with a sigh and then I started to rain out of nowhere. I quickly had buckets spread around the house wherever the roof was leaking. Then I was right back to my laptop to open a new email.

I typed, deleted, typed again.

“My name is Hazel Hunter. I’m 28, healthy, one child. I can provide medical records.”

My finger hovered as if it suddenly had a mind of its own. I quickly clicked send before I could get the chance to overthink it.

To my surprise, I got a response email almost immediately, asking me to come for an interview. 

It read;

“Interview scheduled for 10 AM tomorrow on the 47th floor, Grayson Tower. Come alone.”

I stared at the address. Grayson. The name sent a chill down my spine. But the money… the money could change everything.

ALEXANDER POV

~•~

I stood at the window of my penthouse office, forty-seven floors above the city, watching traffic crawl like ants far below. My reflection stared back at me, my face sharp in the glass, my tie straight, and jaw locked while I ran through my thoughts. 

The room around me stayed quiet. I had expensive marble under my shoes, my dark wood desk behind me, and a few awards on the wall from deals that had made Grayson Enterprises billions. Nothing flashy. I liked it clean.

My mug of black coffee steamed in my hand before I took a sip and turned to the screen on my desk, stock numbers ticking up and down. It was just another day with the exact same routine.

While I was working through my computer, I heard a knock on the door and I was already sure who it was. 

“Come in.” I ordered.

Clara, my personal assistant, stepped in with her tablet against her chest. She had worked for me six years an