A Poor Girl Says To The Billionaire CEO: “Hi Sir,Your Wife Hired Me As A Surrogate Before She Died”
The Shadow of Doubt
The Westlake Fertility Center occupied the top floor of a modern medical building overlooking a small park. Emily arrived at 12:45, fifteen minutes early. Her nerves were frayed after a morning of dropped plates and confused orders at the diner.
She’d barely slept. The driver’s casual revelation about Alexander’s cancelled trip haunted her thoughts.
Dr. Lillian Chen greeted her with a warm smile that faltered slightly when Emily explained the purpose of today’s visit. “Mr. Blackwell is coming here today?”
The doctor’s professional composure slipped momentarily. “Is that a problem?” Emily asked.
Dr. Chen adjusted her glasses. “No, of course not. It’s just Mrs. Blackwell was very specific about confidentiality.”
“She’s gone now,” Emily said gently. “And he deserves to know about his child.” The doctor nodded reluctantly.
“Of course. Let me prepare her file.” Alexander arrived precisely at one.
He was dressed in another immaculate suit but with dark circles beneath his eyes. This suggested he hadn’t slept well either.
His expression was guarded as he greeted Emily with a formal nod. Dr. Chen led them to her office.
It was a comfortable space with medical degrees framing one wall. It offered a view of the park from the other.
She placed a thick file on her desk. “Mr. Blackwell, I need to verify your identity before discussing any medical information.”
After examining his ID and having him sign several forms, Dr. Chen opened the file. “Mrs. Charlotte Harrison—she used her maiden name—came to us eight months ago.”
“She wanted to discuss using embryos that had been stored at Northside Medical Center for the past four years.” Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“That’s impossible. Our fertility specialist was at Princeton Medical, not Northside.” Dr. Chen frowned, flipping through the paperwork.
“According to these transfer documents, three viable embryos were moved from Princeton to Northside four years ago.” “This was shortly after Mrs. Blackwell’s first cancer remission.”
“Without my knowledge or consent?” Alexander asked. “The consent forms bear your signature, Mr. Blackwell.”
Alexander leaned forward, examining the document she turned toward him. His face paled. “That’s not my signature.”
Emily’s stomach twisted with anxiety as she watched the confusion spread across Dr. Chen’s face. “I assure you we verified all documentation thoroughly.”
“Mrs. Harrison—Mrs. Blackwell—provided all the necessary legal paperwork.” “May I see the embryo records?” Alexander demanded.
As Dr. Chen pulled out more documents, Emily touched Alexander’s arm tentatively. “Could Charlotte have simply signed for you? Perhaps to spare you the paperwork?”
“Forgery is a crime, not a convenience,” he replied coldly. “And we made all medical decisions together. Always.”
Dr. Chen cleared her throat. “According to our records, one embryo was implanted successfully in Miss Carter twelve weeks ago.” “The other two remain in cryo-storage here.”
Alexander’s piercing gaze turned to Emily. “You’re absolutely certain my wife arranged this?”
“Yes,” Emily whispered. “She came to every appointment. She held my hand during the procedure.”
“Then why,” Alexander asked, his voice dangerously quiet, “did she tell me all our embryos were non-viable?” “Why create this elaborate deception involving a woman I’ve never met?”
The question hung in the air until Dr. Chen’s phone rang. It offered a momentary reprieve from the tension.
She excused herself to answer it, leaving Emily and Alexander alone with the damning paperwork. “I don’t understand,” Emily said.
“Charlotte never mentioned any of this. She said you knew about the embryos but believed they had been destroyed years ago when her cancer first appeared.” Alexander ran a hand through his hair, a rare gesture of discomposure.
“Someone is lying. Either my wife deceived me for years, or…” He fixed Emily with a hard stare. “You’re part of an elaborate fraud.”
“You saw her letter,” Emily protested. “You recognized her handwriting.”
“Handwriting can be forged just like signatures.” Dr. Chen returned, looking uncomfortable.
“Mr. Blackwell, Miss Carter, perhaps we should proceed with the ultrasound today. It might help clarify things.” In the examination room, Emily lay on the table.
Her heart was pounding as the cold gel was applied to her abdomen. Alexander stood rigidly by the door. He was as far from her as the small room allowed.
The screen flickered to life, and Dr. Chen moved the wand expertly. “There,” she said after a moment. “Your baby.”
The rhythmic pulsing of a tiny heart filled the room. Emily turned to look at Alexander.
His face had gone completely still as he stared at the monitor. “Everything looks perfect,” Dr. Chen continued.
“Size is consistent with twelve weeks. Would you like to know the gender?” “We can tell from the genetic screening we did at Mrs. Blackwell’s request.”
Alexander stepped closer to the screen, his expression unreadable. “Yes.”
“It’s a boy,” Dr. Chen said gently. Something shifted in Alexander’s eyes.
It was a flash of emotion so raw that Emily had to look away. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “Could you give us a moment, doctor?”
When they were alone, Emily wiped the gel from her stomach with shaking hands. “I never meant to cause you pain,” she said quietly. “Charlotte wanted this so badly.”
“The baby’s genetic screening,” Alexander said, ignoring her words. “When was it done?”
“Two weeks ago. Charlotte arranged it before… before she passed.” “And you have the results?”
Emily nodded. “They confirmed the baby is healthy and that you’re the father.”
Alexander’s phone chimed with an incoming message. He glanced at it, then back at Emily, his expression hardening once more.
“My investigator has been looking into your background, Miss Carter.” The sudden shift made Emily’s blood run cold. “What?”
“It seems you’ve omitted some relevant information about yourself.” His tone was frigid. “Like your connection to James Harrington.”
The name hit Emily like a physical blow. “How do you know about James?”
“He worked for me until six months ago. I fired him for attempting to sell company secrets to my competitors.” Alexander’s eyes were merciless. “He’s also your ex-boyfriend, isn’t he?”
Emily struggled to sit up, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “We broke up over a year ago. I haven’t spoken to him since.”
“Really? Because my investigator found phone records showing calls between you as recently as three months ago.” “Right around the time you claim Charlotte hired you as a surrogate.”
“That’s not possible,” Emily whispered, though her mind was racing. James had called her repeatedly after their breakup, but she hadn’t answered. Had Charlotte known about this connection?
“Here’s what I think happened,” Alexander continued relentlessly. “Harrington knew about our stored embryos from his time working in my company’s legal department.”
“After I fired him, he recruited you for this con.” “Using my dead wife’s name to manipulate your way into my life and my fortune.”
“That’s insane,” Emily protested, tears springing to her eyes. “I would never…”
“The fertility records show the surrogate was legally paid $200,000,” Alexander cut in. “Where’s that money, Emily? Not in any bank account under your name.”
Emily’s mind reeled. “Charlotte said she placed it in a trust for after the baby was born. For my nursing school.”
Alexander laughed without humor. “How convenient. A trust no one can verify.”
“Ask Mrs. Parker,” Emily said desperately. “She saw me at your house with Charlotte. Ask Dr. Lawson about Charlotte’s cancer returning.”
“Dr. Lawson died in a car accident two months ago,” Alexander said flatly. “And Mrs. Parker has worked for me for fifteen years. She would say whatever I asked her to say.”
Emily felt the walls closing in around her. “The letter Charlotte wrote to you could easily have been forged.”
“The baby DNA can be manipulated in lab results. It happens all the time in paternity lawsuits.” Emily slid off the examination table, her legs barely supporting her weight.
“Why would I do this? What could I possibly gain that would be worth such an elaborate deception?” Alexander’s expression was cold as winter.
“Three healthy embryos from one of the wealthiest men in the country. The blackmail possibilities alone are worth millions.” “I would never do that,” Emily whispered.
“You’ll understand if I don’t take your word for it.” Alexander moved to the door. “My lawyers will be in touch. Until then, stay away from me and my company.”
“Alexander, please.” “And Emily,” he paused at the doorway. “If you contact the press about this, I will make sure you regret it.”
