Chapter 51 51.
Chapter 51 51.
Chapter 51: Ashley’s POV
Marcus’s security team was already outside, the media was sniffing around, and Mia was looking at me like I was the target of a high-profile manhunt.
But as I stood in the middle of my living room, watching the minutes tick down before Marcus arrived, the initial panic about paparazzi mutated into a much colder, much more paralyzing terror.
Nash and Simone.
My stomach violently lurched.
The horror I had allowed to happen—what I had let Marcus set into motion—finally hit me with the force of a freight train.
"Ash? You're turning white," Mia said, stepping closer and grabbing my ice-cold hands. "What is it?"
"The Orwells," I choked out, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Mia... what are the Orwells going to do when they see the news?"
The excitement that had lingered in Mia’s eyes earlier completely vanished. She swallowed hard, realizing exactly what I was realizing.
They were not going to like it. In fact, "not liking it" was a massive, dangerous understatement.
Nash Orwell was a man who fiercely guarded his family, his privacy, and his business.
Simone was fighting for her life while clinging to the hope of this child.
They had handed me a blank check, trusted me with their absolute most vulnerable secret, and expected total, unshakeable discretion.
And what had I done?
In less than twenty-four hours, I had allowed the most powerful family in the country to claim their baby as a Bryson heir.
"If Nash sees my name tied to Marcus in the society pages, he will destroy the contract," I whispered, the room spinning around me. "He’ll think I betrayed them, or worse, that I'm trying to steal their son and give him to the Brysons."
"Hey, look at me," Mia commanded, squeezing my hands tightly. "You didn't plan this. Marcus’s grandfather ambushed you. You were trapped."
"It doesn't matter!" I cried out, tearing my hands away to run them through my hair. "In the corporate world, perception is reality. To Nash, it’s going to look like a massive breach of trust. And Simone..."
A tear finally spilled over, hot and bitter against my cheek.
Simone was so happy when I told her it was a boy.
She was resting, feeling a little lighter, trusting that her baby was safe.
How could I look her in the eye and tell her that Marcus Bryson—the man she playfully teased me about—was currently building a fortress around her son because his grandfather wanted an heir?
If the public started tracking my every move, the secret of the surrogacy would be under a microscope.
Investigative journalists would dig into my medical records. They would look into the IVF clinic.
The beautiful, quiet arrangement we had built to protect Simone’s peace was about to be blown entirely to pieces.
Right on cue, a heavy, commanding knock echoed through my front door.
I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. Mia and I both shot a look toward the hallway. It wasn't the polite, tentative knock of a neighbor. It was exact same demanding energy as the man who owned it.
Marcus was here.
"Do you want me to stay?" Mia whispered urgently, already looking around for her purse.
"No," I said, wiping the tear from my cheek and forcing a cold, hard resolve into my chest. The confusion from the parking lot was completely gone, burned away by pure survival instinct. "Go out through the back exit. I need to handle this billionaire before he ruins my life completely."
Mia gave my shoulder one last supportive squeeze before slipping out through the kitchen’s service door.
The apartment fell dead silent.
A demanding knock came a second time.
I took a deep breath, smoothed down the front of my emerald sundress, and marched. When I pulled the door open, Marcus was standing there.
His navy suit jacket was unbuttoned, his jaw was visibly clenched, and his dark eyes swept over me instantly, checking for any sign of distress before settling into a look of tense determination.
Behind him, two imposing men in dark gray suits stood like gargoyles at the end of my narrow apartment corridor.
"Ashley," he said, stepping past me into the living room without waiting for an invitation.
"Don't 'Ashley' me," I snapped, slamming the door shut and turning on him. "Your security detail just called my phone. They're talking about perimeters, logging my travel, and media leaks. What the hell did your grandfather do, Marcus?"
Marcus turned around, running a frustrated hand through his perfectly styled hair—the first real sign of agitation I had ever seen from him.
"He called the editor-in-chief of the Manila Chronicle from his car. He tried to kill a story about a corporate merger just to clear the front page for a 'family announcement.' My PR team managed to intercept it and enforce a strict non-disclosure agreement, but the rumor is already circulating among the elite."
"A family announcement?" My voice cracked, the cold dread in my veins turning to pure fire. "He’s going to tell everyone! Marcus, you have to stop this. You have to call your grandfather right now and tell him you lied!"
"I can’t do that," Marcus said as he stepped closer to me. "If I backpedal now, it looks like a scandal. It looks like I’m trying to hide an illegitimate child, which will only make the press dig five times harder into your background. The only way to keep them back is to maintain a united, impenetrable front."
"An impenetrable front?" I scoffed. I put my hands on my hips, staring up at him. "You think you're protecting me? Marcus, you are throwing me directly into a den of lions! You don't understand the scope of what you're doing. This isn't your empire to manage. This isn't your story to write."
I dropped my hands and looked at him, my heart aching with a truth I couldn't possibly voice. "Please. Just let me go. Find another way to get your grandfather off your back, because I cannot be your shield."
Marcus stared at me for a long, agonizing moment.
The silence between us stretched tight, filled with all the things we were both desperately hiding from each other.
Slowly, he reached out, his warm, large hand hovering near my shoulder for a split second before gently resting against my arm.
The heat of his touch cut right through my panic.
"It's too late for that, Ashley," he murmured, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an unshakeable, terrifying permanence. "The wheels are already in motion. Like it or not, as far as the world is concerned... you're with me now."