Just A Vessel: The Surrogate's Escape

Alex POV

Maria, the housekeeper, found me twenty minutes later.

She was the only soul in this cold mausoleum who looked at me with anything resembling kindness. Right now, her eyes were filled with tears as she dabbed antiseptic onto the cut on my forehead.

"Mrs. Dunlap, please. You need a doctor," she whispered, her hands shaking visibly.

"No, Maria," I said, my voice sounding hollow, like a ghost haunting my own life. "I just need a pen."

I went into Gavyn's study.

It was a room that smelled of expensive scotch, gun oil, and stale secrets.

I sat at his massive oak desk, the seat of his power, and pulled out a fresh sheet of legal paper.

*Termination of Union.*

I didn't need a lawyer yet. In our world, the law was not written in statutes; it was dictated by the Don. I needed to speak his language.

Transaction.

I wrote quickly, my hand steady despite the throbbing in my head.

I recalled the day he proposed.

It wasn't on one knee. It was in this very room, across this very desk.

*My father owes me a debt he cannot pay, Alex. You can settle it. Give me heirs. Be loyal. And I will give you a life most women only dream of.*

He had sold it as a partnership.

He had sold it as protection.

I stopped writing when a notification pinged on the desktop computer.

Gavyn rarely left it unlocked, but he had been in a rush to take his "real family" for ice cream. Arrogance often bred carelessness.

I clicked the browser.

It was a private server log. A digital journal.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I scrolled, each entry a fresh blow.

*Entry: May 12th, Year 1.*

*Iliana is safe in Paris. The surrogate transfer to Alex was successful. She has no idea. She thinks it's ours. It's better this way. She will care for the cargo better if she thinks it belongs to her.*

*Entry: August 4th, Year 5.*

*Iliana is back. I've installed her as the tutor. The children gravitate to her naturally. Blood calls to blood. Alex is becoming redundant. I need to sever the tie before she becomes a liability.*

*Entry: Yesterday.*

*Kennith spit on Alex today. I didn't correct him. He needs to learn that she is beneath us. Weakness cannot be tolerated in a Dunlap.*

I stared at the screen until the words blurred into gray static.

He had trained them.

He had groomed our children to hate me.

I printed the pages.

I folded them neatly inside the divorce draft.

The front door slammed downstairs, shaking the floorboards.

Heavy footsteps approached the study.

Gavyn filled the doorway. He looked impeccable in his charcoal suit, not a hair out of place, while I sat there with a bandage on my head and blood dried in my hairline.

"You're still here," he said, loosening his tie. "I thought you might be sulking in bed."

"We need to talk," I said.

He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured two fingers of whiskey.

"If this is about the stairs, Alex, don't be dramatic. Kids play rough. You need to toughen up if you're going to be a mafia wife."

"I don't want to be a mafia wife anymore," I said.

He froze, glass halfway to his lips.

He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"What did you say?"

"I want out, Gavyn. I know about Iliana. I know about the trust fund. I know everything."

He didn't look guilty.

He looked bored.

"You were snooping," he stated flatly.

"I was trying to secure a future for children who aren't even mine."

He set the glass down with a heavy *thud*.

"They are yours in every way that matters to the public. Don't complicate things, Alex. You have a roof over your head. You have unlimited credit cards. What more do you want? Love?"

He laughed, a cruel, dry sound.

"We are not civilians, Alex. Love is a liability."

"Is that why you kept Iliana's photos on your private server? Because love is a liability?"

His face darkened. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

He crossed the room in two strides, grabbing my arm. His grip was like iron.

"You are hysterical," he spat. "You're acting crazy. Are you pregnant again? Is that it? Hormones?"

"I'm not—"

"Let's check," he growled.

He dragged me out of the chair.

"Gavyn, stop!"

He hauled me toward the adjoining bathroom. I struggled, my hip bumping into a pedestal table.

A Ming vase, a gift from the Triads, wobbled and crashed to the floor.

Shards of porcelain exploded outward.

A sharp piece sliced across my calf.

I cried out as blood welled up, soaking my pant leg.

Gavyn didn't even look down.

He dragged me over the broken pottery, his boots crunching on the destruction.

He threw me into the bathroom and slammed a box of pregnancy tests onto the counter.

"Take it," he ordered. "Prove to me you aren't just a hormonal mess trying to blow up my life."

I leaned against the sink, trembling. My leg was throbbing, my head was spinning, and the man I had devoted my life to was looking at me with pure disgust.

"Do it!" he roared.

I did it.

I did it with tears streaming down my face, stripping away the last shreds of my dignity.

Minutes later, the stick sat on the marble counter.

One line.

Negative.

Thank God.

I looked at him in the mirror.

"I'm not pregnant, Gavyn," I said, my voice dead. "There is nothing of you left inside me."