The Surrogate He Discarded

On the grand stage, beneath a canopy of crystal lights and cascading red roses, Kristoff gently took Charlotte’s hand.

The ballroom fell silent.

Hundreds of guests watched as an attendant presented a velvet box.

Inside rested a breathtaking ring. A 40-carat emerald-cut white diamond from Cartier.

The price was more than ten million.

The gemstone sparkled beneath the chandeliers, scattering fragments of light across the ballroom like tiny stars.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Even among the wealthy elite gathered that evening, the ring was extraordinary.

Kristoff slid it onto Charlotte’s finger with deliberate care. The diamond settled perfectly against her skin.

Charlotte stared at it for a moment. Then she looked up at him. Tears immediately welled in her eyes.

One escaped. Then another.

She smiled through them.

To the guests, they were tears of joy. And perhaps they were. After all these years, Kristoff would finally become hers.

Officially and publicly.

The engagement ring wasn’t merely jewelry. It was a declaration. A promise. A symbol that the man she had spent years pursuing in her younger years was now her fiancé.

Soon, he would become her husband.

Yes, she schemed and guilt tripped him about the accident back then, but it was only because she loved him so much.

The guests erupted into applause. Crystal glasses were raised into the air.

A chorus of congratulatory toasts echoed throughout the ballroom.

The soft clinking of champagne flutes filled the room.

Yet at that exact moment, separated by a lounge and a few walls, baby Alex was crying his little heart out in the other ballroom.

A strange contrast.

One room celebrated the beginning of a marriage. The other housed the child whose existence had made that marriage possible.

At VIP Table Number One, Henry and Mary Dalton watched the engagement ceremony unfold.

Neither joined the enthusiastic applause immediately. Their expressions remained thoughtful.

Truthfully, they had never approved of Charlotte. Not at the beginning. They had known from the start that she was unable to bear children.

For a family like the Daltons, where lineage and heirs carried enormous importance, that fact alone had been difficult to accept.

Still, there was only so much they could do.

Their son loved her. For reasons neither of them had ever fully understood.

Mary often wondered what it was about Charlotte that had captivated Kristoff so completely.

Certainly, Charlotte was beautiful. No one could deny that. She possessed the kind of beauty that drew attention whenever she entered a room.

But beautiful women were hardly rare in their social circle.

There were noble ladies, heiresses, and socialites who were just as attractive—if not more so.

As for her profession...Mary had never been particularly impressed.

The modeling industry seemed superficial to her. An environment filled with gossip, scandals, and fleeting fame.

Yet despite their reservations, they eventually stopped opposing the relationship.

Because Kristoff had given them something they desperately wanted. An heir...their grandson.

Mary’s expression softened as she remembered a conversation she’d had with her husband few weeks earlier.

She was sitting in the nursery, cradling baby Alex in her arms. The little boy had been only a few weeks old then.

His tiny fingers had wrapped around hers while she gently rocked him.

”Just let them be, dear,” Mary had said.

A smile spread across her face as she poked Alex’s chubby cheek. The baby responded with a sleepy yawn.

”Next year, we’ll start pestering Kristoff for another child.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

”A granddaughter this time.”

Henry had nearly choked on his coffee.

”A granddaughter?”

He looked at her as though she had gone mad. Who could control the gender during pregnancy?

”Wouldn’t that hurt Charlotte?”

Mary glanced up.

”What do you mean?”

”Think about it.” Henry set down his cup. ”The reason Kristoff agreed to have Alex before marrying Charlotte was because it would be easier for her to accept. Once she’s married into the family, asking him to have another child with someone else could create problems.”

He shook his head.

”It could damage their marriage.”

Mary pursed her lips. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she looked down at Alex sleeping peacefully in her arms.

Her expression hardened.

”It isn’t my fault she’s barren. It’s hers.”

Her voice was calm but firm.

”Nor is it Alex’s fault. What happened back then was an accident.”

She gently stroked the baby’s hair.

”Our family needs heirs.” A faint smile returned to her face. ”And I want a granddaughter.”

Her gaze softened as she imagined a little girl running through the Dalton estate alongside Alex.

”A beautiful little granddaughter.”

At the time, Henry had merely sighed. He knew his wife well.

Once Mary Dalton decided she wanted something, she rarely gave up on the idea.

Especially when it involved her grandchildren.

...

Back in the present, Mary fixed her gaze on the radiant couple standing at the center of the stage. Charlotte’s hand rested lightly on Kristoff’s arm as they smiled for their guests, looking every bit the picture of happiness.

For the first time in months, a flicker of doubt crept into Mary’s mind. Perhaps she had been too forceful about pushing Kristoff to have another child.

No. There were other ways.

IVF.

With IVF, Kristoff wouldn’t even need to know who the surrogate was. The arrangement could be handled discreetly. That should solve everything.

”By the way,” Mary asked, turning to Kristoff’s assistant, ”why isn’t baby Alex here?”

The assistant immediately straightened.

”Ma’am,” he replied respectfully, ”he was crying quite hard earlier. The nannies took him to the other ballroom so he could calm down.”

Mary frowned.

”And he still hasn’t been brought back? The engagement ceremony is over. He should be here with the rest of the guests.”

Across the room, Kristoff and Charlotte stepped down from the stage and began making their rounds, greeting friends, relatives, and business associates.

At that moment, one of Alex’s nannies slipped through a side door.

She looked nervous. After hesitating for several seconds, she hurried toward the couple. When she reached them, she leaned close and whispered something into Kristoff’s ear.

Kristoff’s expression darkened instantly. A crease formed between his brows.

Without a word, he followed the nanny toward the exit. Charlotte exchanged a puzzled glance with him before falling into step beside him.

As they approached the adjoining ballroom, something caught Kristoff’s attention.

A familiar figure.

Even from a distance, he recognized the back of the woman immediately.

The loose, messy bun. The champagne-colored dress.

His steps slowed.

Then he noticed something else. The second nanny standing nearby had empty arms.

Alex was nowhere in sight. A surge of alarm shot through him. He quickened his pace and as he drew closer, he froze.

The woman seated inside, her back to the opening of the teepee, cradled a baby against her chest.

Not just any baby. It was Alexander.

His son.

Something inside Kristoff snapped. Possessiveness and anger all at once.

He strode forward, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.

”What the hell are you doing? Who allowed you to hold my baby?”