Chapter 2 First door

The address Lena gave her didn't look like a clinic. Or an office. Or anything remotely medical.

It was a townhouse-three stories, modern glass front, gated entry-tucked in the quiet part of the city, where sidewalks were clean and mailboxes matched. Emily stood outside the gate, hands stuffed in the pockets of a coat she hadn't washed in weeks, trying not to look like she'd taken two buses and walked the last mile because she couldn't afford a rideshare.

She buzzed the callbox.

A voice crackled through. Female. Professional. "Name?"

"Emily Chu."

There was a pause. Then the gate clicked open.

No questions. No "Do you have an appointment?" Just the sound of a heavy lock sliding out of the way, like she'd already been expected.

Her sneakers crunched on the gravel path. She reached the front door, which opened before she could knock.

A woman in a slate-grey dress greeted her-blond bun, clipboard, heels that didn't make a sound. The kind of woman who probably drank lemon water and never forgot her passwords.

"Follow me," she said.

Emily stepped inside. The air smelled faintly like eucalyptus and new furniture. Everything was spotless. Quiet. Like walking into a fancy therapist's office designed by someone with too much money and not enough warmth.

The woman led her down a hallway, past what looked like a library and a small lounge with bottled water and minimalist chairs. No one spoke. No one looked at her.

She was brought into a room that reminded her of a hotel suite. Soft lighting. A leather couch. A chair angled toward a small table holding a glass of water and a folder.

"Wait here," the woman said, and left.

Emily sat down. Immediately regretted it. The leather was too soft, like it would swallow her. She stared at the folder. Didn't touch it.

A minute passed. Then another.

Her palms were sweaty. She wiped them on her jeans.

She should leave. She should absolutely get up and leave. This was insane. Sex-for-money-with-a-billionaire insane.

But she didn't leave.

The door opened again.

Another woman entered. Older, sharp features, black pantsuit, tablet in hand.

"Emily Chu," she said, sitting across from her. "I'm Dr. Karev. I handle intake and evaluation for the program."

"Program," Emily repeated.

"Correct."

Dr. Karev didn't smile. Didn't soften.

"This is not a job interview," she said. "It's not an escort arrangement. And it's not a favor. It is, in the most technical and legal sense, a reproductive contract."

Emily nodded, because she didn't know what else to do.

Dr. Karev tapped her tablet. "Age: twenty-six. No children. No known medical conditions. No permanent address on file. Is that accurate?"

"Yes."

"Are you currently using contraception?"

Emily blinked. "I-no. I mean, I'm not... active."

"Have you ever been pregnant?"

"No."

"Do you smoke?"

"No."

"Drink?"

"Sometimes."

"Illegal drugs?"

Emily met her eyes. "I can't afford Tylenol."

Dr. Karev looked mildly amused. Maybe. Hard to tell.

She asked a few more questions-basic stuff, all clinical. Emily answered as best she could, feeling like she was being scanned by a machine that would know if she lied.

Then, Dr. Karev leaned forward slightly.

"You understand what's being asked of you."

Emily hesitated. "I think so."

"You will undergo a series of physical and psychological screenings. If you pass, you'll be introduced to the principal. He will determine compatibility."

"The principal being the... father?"

"Yes. The prospective father."

"And he... chooses?"

Dr. Karev's lips twitched like she might have once known how to smile. "He is meticulous. This is not about attraction. It's about certainty."

Emily swallowed. "And if I pass?"

"You will live in his home. For the duration of the pregnancy. Under contract, medical care, and surveillance."

"Surveillance?"

"For your safety. And his."

There it was again-his. Always him. The shadowy man behind the curtain.

"Is there a name?" Emily asked.

"No."

"Why?"

"Discretion," Dr. Karev said simply. "For both parties."

Emily nodded slowly. She didn't trust this. Not even a little. But she also didn't have the luxury of trust. Trust was for people with options.

Dr. Karev stood. "If you wish to proceed, the first exam is today."

Emily's stomach twisted. "Now?"

"Unless you'd like to withdraw."

She could. She really could. She could stand up, walk out, take the bus home and figure something else out.

But what? What was left? Her apartment had been picked clean. Her bank account was empty. She had no papers, no protections, and no one but Lena, who'd already done more than most.

She thought of her mom's old voice, back when she still called: "Sometimes, mija, you just have to walk through the fire and pray it burns clean."

Emily stood.

"I'll do it.''

''I mean free food, shelter and a nice home.'' Emily thought subconsciously.