The Surrogate He Discarded

The boardroom door swung open, and Cindy stepped inside, slightly out of breath.

”Sorry, Isobel. I completely forgot I left you here.” She offered an apologetic smile. ”Something urgent came up. Can you make your way to the sixtieth floor by yourself?”

”Don’t worry about me, Cindy. I’ll be fine.” Isobel’s reply was soft and reassuring.

As Cindy turned to leave, her gaze suddenly dropped to Isobel’s chest. Her expression changed instantly.

”Look for Stacey when you get upstairs,” she said. ”Tell her you need access to the lactation room.”

Heat rushed to Isobel’s cheeks. Looking down, she realized with horror that a damp patch had begun to show through her white blouse beneath her blazer.

”I’ll take her,” Claire volunteered smoothly before Isobel could respond. ”Come on.”

With no choice but to follow, Isobel rose from her seat and trailed after Claire out of the boardroom.

”It’ll be quicker if we take the stairs,” Claire said as she strode down the hallway. ”It’s only one floor up.”

Isobel hesitated. She glanced at the elevator display. Every car was still far below, somewhere in the lower levels of the building.

Reluctantly, she followed Claire.

The director moved with effortless confidence, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor as she sauntered down the corridor. Isobel stayed a few paces behind, distracted by the growing ache in her chest.

They had almost reached the end of the hallway when Claire suddenly stopped.

Her face lit up.

”Oh my gosh, Fennick! You’re back!”

Her excited shriek echoed through the corridor as she hurried toward a tall man emerging from a nearby office.

He was strikingly handsome, with ash-gray hair, piercing blue eyes, and the kind of commanding presence that made people instinctively notice him.

Fennick smiled and opened his arms. Claire slipped into a hug that seemed entirely natural between them.

Meanwhile, Isobel’s discomfort intensified.

The pressure in her chest had become nearly unbearable. She could feel another warm leak soaking through the fabric of her bra, and panic twisted in her stomach.

”Isobel, come here,” Claire called.

Isobel remained frozen where she stood.

Claire’s smile faded.

”Don’t tell me,” she said slowly, emphasizing every word, ”that you expect me—a director—and him—a vice president—to walk over to you.”

The color drained from Isobel’s face.

She was a brand-new employee on her very first day. Not even a manager. Certainly not someone important enough to offend two senior executives.

Swallowing her embarrassment and discomfort, she forced herself forward.

By the time she reached them, she wished she could disappear.

”Fennick, this is the new executive assistant Morgan hired.” Claire’s voice turned unusually sweet. ”Her name is Isobel. Isobel Lancey.”

Isobel wasn’t nearly as naive as she had once been.

The way Claire looked at him. The softness in her voice. The subtle shift in her posture.

Claire was flirting.

Fennick’s attention settled on Isobel. For a moment, he simply looked at her.

Then he extended his hand and Isobel accepted it.

”It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Isobel said politely as she accepted it.

His fingers closed gently around hers.

”The pleasure is mine.”

His voice was low and smooth, carrying an effortless charm that made the simple words sound far more intimate than they should have.

His gaze lingered on her face.

Something flickered in his blue eyes—surprise, perhaps, or admiration.

Before she could react, he lifted her hand and brushed a brief kiss across her knuckles.

Isobel stiffened.

Then his eyes drifted downward.

At that exact moment, she felt another telltale warmth spread across her chest.

Her breath caught.

Mortified, she immediately pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over herself.

A look of realization flashed across Fennick’s face.

His gaze remained fixed on her chest for a second too long.

”You... you’re...”

The sentence died unfinished.

”Excuse me.” The words escaped before she could think.

Turning sharply, Isobel hurried away.

She reached the elevator just as the doors began to close.

”Hey, wait up!” Claire called after her.

But Isobel stepped inside without looking back.

The doors slid shut.

She didn’t even consider pressing the open button.

Outside, Claire stared at the closed elevator doors.

Claire’s jaw clenched.

How dare she?

A newcomer. On her first day.

And she had just left a director standing behind.

Claire stared at the closed elevator doors, her expression hardening.

Slowly, the anger drained from her face. In its place came something far more dangerous—a calm, calculating stillness.

She waited for the next elevator in silence.

When it arrived, she stepped inside and watched the number climb.

By the time the doors slid open on the sixtieth floor, the transformation was complete.

The coldness had disappeared. The sharp lines of irritation had softened. Warmth returned to her features, along with a bright, effortless smile.

It was the face she showed the world.

The face that hid everything underneath.

The moment the elevator doors opened, Claire stepped out wearing a radiant smile.

Gone was the cold calculation that had occupied her moments earlier.

In its place was the sweet, approachable charm that had won over countless people before.

She walked confidently across the executive floor, her gaze sweeping over the rows of secretaries’ desks. She was searching for Isobel.

But there was no sign of her.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Claire’s eyes before she quickly smoothed it away.

Without hesitation, she headed for the CEO’s office.

She paused briefly outside the door, straightened her posture, and drew in a quiet breath.

Then she stepped inside. A soft smile curved her lips.

Tilting her head ever so slightly, she adopted the expression she had perfected over the years—gentle, innocent, almost vulnerable.

It had taken countless hours in front of a mirror to master every detail.

The angle of her chin.

The softness in her eyes.

The faint uncertainty in her smile.

Men found it irresistible. Some wanted to protect her. Others wanted to please her.

Most simply found it impossible to refuse her.

Confident in the effect she would have, Claire opened her mouth to speak.

”Get out.”

The words struck like a slap.

Her smile froze.

For a brief second, she wondered if she had heard correctly.

Across the room, the Morgan didn’t even look up from the documents on his desk.

His expression remained cold and unreadable.

”I said. Get. Out.”

The warmth drained from Claire’s face.

No one had ever dismissed her so bluntly before.