Chapter 5 A GLIMPSE OF DECEPTION

I've been anticipating this moment for what feels like an eternity. The search for the mother of my child has consumed me, stretching the days into what seems like years. City after city, profile after profile-each one a neatly presented catalog of women, all willing to trade their futures for a price. Yet, none of them felt right. Not until now.

Rena.

Her file had crossed my desk like so many others, but unlike the rest, hers stood out. A perfect history-unmarried, a master's degree from a reputable university, no criminal record, and a family background without blemish. On paper, she's everything I could ask for.

And in person... she's lovely. Not in the conventional sense of women I've been drawn to, but there's something in her presence-something understated yet compelling. She doesn't demand attention, but once you notice her, it's impossible to look away.

In the back seat, a neatly stacked folder of legal documents waits. Months of meticulous planning have led to this night. All I need is her agreement-a signature, a few tests-and she will become the woman to carry my legacy.

I close my eyes for a moment, picturing the son I've dreamed of for so long. His tiny hands gripping mine, his laughter filling the air. He'll be my greatest accomplishment, my heir, the one to inherit everything I've built. But more than that, I'll raise him to be strong, purposeful, and unshakably sure of his place in this world. He'll know he's needed, cherished.

This plan is flawless. Rena needs what I can offer, and I need what she can give. It's as if fate has aligned every detail perfectly. Now, all that remains is convincing her to see it the same way.

A little after half-past nine, the side door of the library opens, and Rena steps into view. Her bag hangs over her shoulder, her steps brisk despite the exhaustion written across her face. She doesn't wait for me to get out and open the door but slides into the passenger seat with a resigned sigh.

"Sorry I'm late," she says, leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes for a brief moment. "My boss is unbearable, and the law students are driving me insane. It's like a warzone in there with finals coming up. Honestly, I'm amazed I made it out alive." She glances at me and pauses, her tone shifting to something more self-conscious. "But I'm sure you don't care about any of that."

I turn the key in the ignition, casting her a brief smile as the engine purrs to life. "Why wouldn't I care?"

She huffs a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Because you've got more important things to think about than my miserable workday. I didn't even have time to sit down and process your... offer today. I'll need a little more time-"

"There's no rush," I assure her, though the weight of those words feels like a lie. Time isn't on her side, and it certainly isn't on mine.

For a moment, she's silent, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. Then, as if mustering courage, she turns to me. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I reply, keeping my tone calm and open.

"Anything?" she presses, her voice laced with skepticism. "I mean, we barely know each other. Are you really going to answer honestly?"

I glance at her, meeting her gaze head-on. "I've asked you to carry my child. You deserve honesty."

Her expression softens, though doubt still flickers in her eyes. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Completely."

She leans back in her seat, studying me for a long moment. "You're not exactly unattractive, you know. So why not... I don't know, just do it the normal way?"

The road ahead stretches into the evening haze, and I keep my eyes trained on it, my hands steady on the wheel. Her question lingers in the air, as does the slight incredulity in her voice.

"Getting a girl pregnant would be complicated?" she says, a faint laugh escaping her. "What do they teach in Montovia? Because I'm pretty sure it's the most straightforward process there is."

I lift a brow, glancing at her briefly before refocusing on the road. "The complications don't come from biology. It's the relationship part-emotions, custody, expectations. That's where it gets... messy."

"Huh." Her voice carries a mix of curiosity and disbelief, and I feel her gaze burning into the side of my face. "So, you're skipping the mess and going straight to transactional. Got it."

She pauses, then tilts her head slightly. "Where'd you even get the money for this? A million dollars isn't pocket change."

My fingers tighten slightly on the wheel. The truth will come out eventually, but now isn't the time.

"Today's cash? The bank. I don't typically carry that much around, but something told me I'd need it this afternoon-"

"No," she interrupts, cutting through my explanation. "Not that. The million. Where does someone like you get that kind of money?"

Her tone is light, but there's an edge of suspicion under it.

"Tech?" she guesses after a moment. "Did you invent some genius app? Or maybe you're secretly a Montovian movie star?"

I chuckle, keeping my voice relaxed. "I thought you were the type to know a little about everything. Don't you recognize Montovia's most famous stars?"

Her laugh is soft but genuine. "Montovian pop culture isn't exactly a topic of discussion in my circles. Enlighten me."

"It's not a big topic in Montovia, either," I admit with a smirk. "But no, I'm not a movie star."

She sighs, leaning back against the seat. "Figures. I was hoping for a celebrity connection." Her tone shifts, growing quieter. "I wanted to travel, you know. To Montovia, among other places. I had plans... once."

I glance at her, catching the distant look in her eyes. "What stopped you?"

She hesitates, turning to gaze out the window. "Life. My dad got sick. He had to sell everything-his house, his savings-just to cover his care. Now, the state takes care of most of it, but... it's hard for him. He used to be proud. A civil engineer. He even designed that bridge we just crossed."

Impressive. Strong genetic intelligence.

"You're close to him," I say gently.

Her voice lowers. "He's all I've got."

The car falls silent, and I let her words settle. The weight of her situation sits between us, unspoken yet palpable.

"Where are we going?" she asks after a while, glancing at the familiar landmarks passing by. "This isn't..." Her voice trails off as realization dawns. "We're heading toward the Seattle Center. Wait... don't tell me-"

I smile, steering the car into a private lot. "We are. I rented out the Space Needle for tonight. I hear the food is spectacular."

Her eyes widen, darting to her casual clothes. "You rented out the Space Needle? I'm not dressed for this! You could have warned me-I could have changed-"

"Nonsense." I park the car and step out, grabbing the file from the back seat. Circling around, I open her door and offer her my hand. "You look lovely as you are. Beautiful, even."

She hesitates before taking my hand, her warmth sending a strange, electric rush through me.

"Lovely?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't even notice you were wearing a suit. I'm way underdressed-"

Before she can finish, the flash of cameras lights up the night. Her words falter as she freezes, her gaze snapping to mine.

"What the hell?" she hisses, her forced smile barely concealing her shock. "What is this?"

I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her closer for the cameras. "I invited a few members of the press. Don't worry-they're staying down here."

Her voice drops to a sharp whisper. "Who the hell are you?"

I glance down at her, my smile calm yet deliberate. "I'm sorry," I say softly, leaning closer as the cameras continue to flash. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm Lord Armani Armani, heir to the Guardianship of Del Valle."

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks completely thrown. "Del Valle?" she echoes, her voice barely audible.

I smile again, holding her gaze. "That's correct."

As the valet steps forward, I guide her toward the elevator, keeping my expression composed. Inside, her questions begin to swirl in my head, but I offer no further explanation.

But I hide the mafia part of it. I don't need my surrogate running away. Not yet at least.