Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 9

Ella

I blink my eyes open warily, knowing I’m not at home in my own bed solely by the luxurious mattress and beddings surrounding me. The last thing I remember, I was in Cora’s office with none other than Dominic Sinclair, who was single- handedly offering to save my future and break my heart in one fell swoop.

I was about to sign away my rights to my baby… my baby, I think dazedly, pressing one hand to my belly. Am I really pregnant? After all this time?

The idea that I have to give up my child because life dealt me yet another ruthless blow makes me feel sick to my stomach… in fact, I lurch from the bed and race for the bathroom, feeling my insides roil and clench. I make it to the toilet just in time, emptying my stomach into the porcelain bowl and dropping to my knees with a groan of misery.

I suppose that’s all the proof I need. I really am going to be a mother… but for how long? 30 seconds? Five minutes? Will Dominic Sinclair give me the opportunity to even hold my baby before ripping it from my arms? Do I want that torture? Yes, I decide instantly. I have to hold my baby in my arms, even if it’s only for a fraction of a second…. Even if we aren’t technically the same species.

That particular thought sends my head spinning so quickly I have to clench my eyes shut. Werewolves are real. Not only are they real, but I’m pregnant with one… Dominic Sinclair, who I’ve mooned over a thousand times, is a creature I believed only existed in novels and films. And what was that grumbling noise when I passed out, why did it feel like I could hear his voice in my head?

All of a sudden it’s just too much to handle. I slip back into the bedroom and climb back into the opulent bed, for the first time realizing I must be in the Sinclair mansion. There’s no other explanation. I’ve never been in a room this beautiful, or with such expensive furnishings. It must all belong to him.

But why would he bring me home with him? I have a home of my own. Peeking out of the plush covers, I scan the room, my eyes landing on a table by the door. There’s a vase of flowers and a folded note, which appears to have my name scrawled across the front. Gingerly regaining my feet, I collect the parchment and open it, my heart beating a mile a minute.

Ella, Please make yourself at home. I’ll be at the office until this evening, but as soon as I return we can finish our talk. Ask the servants for anything you require.

Yours,

Dominic

home? I think

my nerves. He basically left me with no choice, leveraging safety, stability and my child’s wellbeing over my head so that I’d be forced to agree to his terms. It’s not as if I really stood a chance against him. He has all the power in the world while I have nothing, and he made it very clear that there was no wiggle room

out was my brain’s subconscious way of protecting me, giving me more time to process and think before signing away my baby. Or if not my brain, whatever

nothing to do with my joy over being pregnant, or my grief about everything I’m losing. These tears are nothing but pure, righteous anger over everything that’s happened to me over

he could fix it with the snap of his fingers. The amount of money it will take to repay my debts isn’t even a drop in the bucket to him, and I’m pregnant with his child.

until I finally find my way out of the maze of a house. Only once does a servant try to stop me. I’m almost to the front door when a guard steps in front of me, “Miss, you don’t

chin up and glare at

though he wants to do just that. He frowns deeply, eyeing me closely. I can almost see the thoughts. scrolling through his head. Yes he has orders not to let

little while later, I head straight for my computer, pulling up the internet browser and typing in Dominic Sinclair’s name. He might have fancy investigators to look into my past, but I’ m no

find only fawning business articles about his genius intellect and cunning as a negotiator and investor. It seems like everyone who’s ever decided to look into the man has fallen in love with

childhood growing up without a mother, and a number of interviews actually detail how deeply this affected him. The way they tell it, being raised by a single parent is the worst upbringing a

dig deeper, looking into his philanthropic record and secret identity. I’m mildly dismayed to find all his charitable efforts are completely legitimate and he actually does donate half his revenues to those in need (of course, half a colossal fortune still

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