Valerie almost turned back at the door.
She stood outside the building for a full thirty seconds, staring at the glass entrance like it might suddenly open its mouth and tell her to go home. The place was too shiny. Too tall. Too… expensive-looking.
She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and muttered, "You can do this," even though her knees clearly disagreed.
Inside, the lobby smelled like money. Clean. Sharp. Cold. The floor reflected her sneakers, which suddenly felt very out of place. She wiped her palms on her jeans and walked toward the front desk.
"I'm here to see Mr… Crane," she said, carefully.
The receptionist smiled like she'd been trained in it since birth. "Do you have an appointment?"
Valerie hesitated. "Kind of? I mean…yes. I think."
The receptionist typed something, nodded, then pointed. "Elevator to the right. Top floor."
Top floor.
Of course it was the top floor.
The elevator ride felt longer than it should have. Valerie stared at the numbers climbing, her heart racing with each one. By the time the doors opened, she had already practiced at least ten different versions of what she would say.
None of them included, Hello sir, I'm here to rent my womb.
A man in a black suit led her into a spacious office. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A massive desk. A city view that made her feel small.
And behind the desk sat Richard Crane.
He looked even better than he did in the coffee shop. No casual smile. Just sharp lines, a fitted suit, and an expression that said he was used to being in control.
And that was when realization struck. She had seen this face somewhere. The billionaire she had a clash with back when she was still in college.
Mr Richard Crane!
Valerie swallowed.
"Miss Falls," he said, standing up. His voice was calm, deep. "Thank you for coming."
She nodded. "You're welcome. I almost didn't."
Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement, maybe.
"Please, sit."
She sat. Carefully. Like the chair might cost more than her entire life.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Valerie searched for it, she wanted to know if the billionaire recognized her, but it seemed he didn't.
She was just one college student in one of his numerous dinners.
She didn't know if she was happy or sad at that recognition.
Richard cleared his throat. "I'll get straight to the point."
She nodded again. "Please do. I don't think my heart can handle suspense today."
That earned her a small smile.
"This arrangement," he began, folding his hands on the desk, "is purely professional."
"Good," Valerie said quickly. "Because I'm not good with… weird stuff."
He raised an eyebrow. "Weird stuff?"
"Like rich-people secrets and contracts that ruin lives." Valerie explained.
"That's reassuring," he said dryly.
She winced. "Sorry. Nervous."
"I can tell."
Richard leaned back slightly. "I'm looking for a surrogate. Someone healthy. Strong. Disciplined. Someone who can carry a child without complications."
Valerie nodded, her chest tight. "And you saw a basketball video and decided my body qualified."
Blunt. Very blunt.
He didn't flinch. "Yes."
She laughed softly. "At least you're honest."
"I prefer honesty," he said. "It keeps things clean."
Clean. That word again.
He slid a folder across the desk. "Everything is outlined there. Medical care. Housing. Compensation."
Her fingers hovered over the folder. "How much?"
He named the amount.
Valerie froze.
Then laughed. Loudly.
"That's not real money," she said. "That's movie money."
"It's real," Richard replied calmly.
Her laughter faded. "That could pay my bills. All of them. And my mom's treatment."
"I know," he said.
She looked up sharply. "You looked into me."
"I had to."
She stared at him for a long moment, then finally opened the folder.
The terms were… detailed. Very detailed.
"No emotional attachment," she read aloud.
"Yes."
"No public acknowledgment."
Correct."
"No interference in my personal life."
"Yes."
She paused. "And this one… 'The surrogate will reside in a location approved by the client for the duration of the pregnancy.'"
She looked up. "You want to lock me in a tower or something?"
His lips twitched. "A guest house. With security."
"I'm not a prisoner."
"You'll have freedom."
"With bodyguards?"
"For safety."
She sighed. "You really thought this through."
"I don't do half-measures."
She flipped another page. "And after the baby is born?"
"The contract ends."
Just like that.
She nodded slowly, absorbing it. This was real. Too real.
"And," Richard added, his voice firmer now,
"there is one non-negotiable condition."
Her stomach dropped. "Of course there is."
"You will not fall in love with me."
Valerie blinked.
Then laughed again.
"With all due respect, Mr Crane," she said, standing up, "I'm just here to carry your baby, not steal your heart."
His gaze held hers. Intense. Searching.
"Good," he said quietly. "Because if you sign this…"
He slid a pen toward her.
"Your life is about to change forever."
Valerie looked at the pen.
At the contract.
At him.
Her phone buzzed in her bag.
She hesitated.
Then reached for it.
And that was when everything shifted.
Valerie stared at her phone like it had personally offended her.
The name flashing on the screen made her chest tighten.
Mom.
She glanced at Richard, who was watching her closely now. Not impatient. Just… alert.
"Sorry," she said. "I need to take this."
"Of course," he replied, gesturing toward the window. "Take your time."
She walked a few steps away, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Mom?"
"Valerie," her mother's voice sounded strained. "Where are you?"
"At a meeting. Is everything okay?"
There was a pause. Too long.
"The hospital called again," Mrs Falls said quietly. "They said if we don't pay part of the bill by tomorrow, they'll stop the treatment."
Valerie closed her eyes.
"How much?" she asked, already knowing it would be bad.
Her mother told her.
Valerie's throat burned. "Okay. I'll… I'll figure it out."
"Don't stress yourself," her mom said quickly. "We'll manage."
They wouldn't. Valerie knew that. They'd been managing since her dad died, and managing was just another word for drowning slowly.
After the call ended, she stayed where she was for a moment, breathing through the pressure in her chest.
When she turned back, Richard was standing now, closer than before.
"Everything alright?" he asked.
She nodded. Then shook her head. "Not really. But that's my normal these days."
He studied her face. Not in the way men at the coffee shop did. No hunger. No pity. Just… attention.
"You don't have to decide today," he said.
She blinked. "Really?"
"Yes."
That surprised her. "I thought billionaires liked fast answers."
"I like informed ones," he replied.
She walked back to the desk, looking at the contract again. The numbers stared back at her, tempting and terrifying at the same time.
"This baby," she said slowly. "You won't try to take more than what the contract says, right?"
His jaw tightened. "I won't.".
"And you won't treat me like a machine."
"I won't."
"And you won't suddenly decide I'm disposable."
Something dark flickered in his eyes. "I don't discard people who matter."
She caught that. "Who matter?"
"You will matter," he said, then paused. "Professionally."
She snorted. "Of course. Professionally."
Silence settled between them again, thicker now.
"Can I ask you something?" Valerie said.
"Yes."
"Why me?" she asked. "You could have picked anyone. Models. Athletes. People who don't cry in hospital corridors."
He didn't answer immediately.
"Because," he said finally, "you didn't look like someone who would break easily."
She laughed softly. "You should see me on bad days."
"I have," he said.
That made her look up sharply. "What?"
"At the coffee shop," he clarified. "I've seen you exhausted. Frustrated. Still standing."
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. "You watched me."
"I observed," he corrected.
She shook her head. "That's… creepy."
"Effective," he replied calmly.
She sighed, rubbing her temples. "This is insane."
"Yes.".
"I don't even like you."
He almost smiled. "That's ideal."
She looked at the pen again.
Outside, the city moved on like nothing important was happening. Cars. People. Life.
Inside, Valerie felt like she was standing on the edge of something huge and irreversible.
"If I do this," she said, her voice barely steady, "there's no going back, is there?"
"No," Richard said honestly. "There isn't."
She picked up the pen.
Then paused.
"Wait," she said. "One more thing."
"Yes?"
She met his eyes. "No secrets."
His expression didn't change.
But something in the room did.
"I don't deal in secrets," he said.
Valerie held his gaze for a long moment.
Then she lowered the pen to the paper.
And that was when the office door opened without a knock.
A woman walked in, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Tall. Confident. Beautiful in a way that screamed belonging.
Her eyes went straight to Valerie's hand.
To the contract.
Then to Richard.
"Richard," she said coolly. "I didn't know you had company."
Valerie's grip tightened on the pen.
Something told her this woman was not part of the agreement.
And something worse told her this was only the beginning.