The Surrogate He Discarded

Mary swept toward the entrance of the ballroom wearing the kind of smile perfected by women who had spent their entire lives moving through aristocratic circles.

It was warm enough to be polite.

Elegant enough to be convincing.

And carefully controlled enough to reveal nothing.

The moment she reached Julian and Leanne Foster, she opened her arms slightly.

”Julian and Leanne Foster.”

A dramatic pause.

”What an honor to have the two of you grace our gala with your presence.”

She leaned forward and offered her cheek to Leanne.

Leanne returned the greeting with equal elegance.

Mary then extended her hand toward Julian.

Julian took it and pressed a light kiss against the back of her fingers.

”Sorry, we are late. We have a prior commitment.”

It was the customary greeting among their circle—refined, effortless, and steeped in generations of wealth.

But tonight, Mary’s smile faltered slightly.

”Yes, it is a pity that the gala is nearly over,” she remarked. ”I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Julian merely smiled.

”It’s all right.”

His answer was casual.

”We’re here for someone.”

Mary’s eyebrows lifted.

”Someone?”

She glanced past them and discreetly scanned the ballroom.

The enormous chandelier overhead cast a golden glow over the guests; some were dancing, while others were discussing serious business matters.

Waiters were already clearing half-empty champagne glasses, while servants quietly collected abandoned plates from the tables. The orchestra had softened its music, signaling that the evening was drawing to a close.

Yet the arrival of the Fosters had suddenly made Mary feel as though the gala had only just begun.

Someone important enough to bring Julian and Leanne Foster here at this hour?

That was very interesting.

For generations, the Foster and Dalton families had been locked in one of the fiercest business rivalries among the country’s elite.

Their feud was older than most of the people standing in the ballroom tonight.

Two generations ago, the two families had been mortal enemies—not in the literal sense, but close enough that their boardrooms had sometimes felt like battlefields.

Every major acquisition became a contest.

Every lucrative contract became a war.

If the Daltons entered a market, the Fosters were never far behind.

If the Fosters announced a new project, the Daltons would find a way to challenge it.

Their rivalry had become legendary among the wealthy.

People whispered about it over champagne.

Executives joked about it behind closed doors.

And wives like Mary had learned long ago that when a Foster and a Dalton appeared in the same room, it was wise to keep their champagne glasses full and their mouths shut.

Even during the generation of Henry Dalton and Julian Foster, the rivalry had remained vicious.

Neither man liked losing.

Neither tolerated being outmaneuvered.

And neither had ever been particularly willing to forget an old score.

Then Morgan Foster and Kristoff Dalton inherited the battlefield.

For a while, everyone expected the feud between the two families to become even uglier.

And it nearly did.

Their family names already carried enough weight to make heads turn wherever they went. They were born into wealth, privilege, and power—yet neither Morgan nor Kristoff was satisfied with simply being known as the second-generation heir.

The rivalry had begun long before either man ever sat in a boardroom.

Long before they became powerful businessmen battling over billion-peso deals, they were two young heirs locked in a relentless game of one-upmanship.

Even back in school, they were in different year levels, but they had been constantly pitted against each other.

Academically, they battled for the highest scores.

If Morgan took first place, Kristoff would find a way to take the next one.

On the sports field, neither was willing to give the other an inch.

If Kristoff came out on top in a championship, Morgan would find another arena where he could reclaim the advantage.

Each wanted to be the one standing at the top.

Losing to each other?

That was something neither of them could accept.

Neither boy could stand the thought of being second to the other.

What had started as a rivalry between two privileged young men gradually became something far more personal.

And when they finally left school, the battlefield simply changed.

The campus gave way to the boardroom.

The trophies became billion-peso contracts.

...

When Kristoff was still at the helm of Dalton Technologies, he and Morgan had practically turned corporate competition into an art form.

Whenever the two companies went after the same project, executives on both sides knew exactly what it meant.

The Fosters and Daltons were going to war again.

And neither Morgan nor Kristoff had ever been particularly fond of losing.

A single billion-peso deal could have both men on opposite sides of the negotiation table, staring each other down while their executives waited nervously behind them.

There were even times when companies quietly joked that if Morgan and Kristoff were both bidding for the same project, the client should simply prepare for war.

But then Kristoff left Dalton Technologies.

He entered real estate.

And unexpectedly, the man who had once been Morgan Foster’s most troublesome rival became one of his most valuable allies.

It was one of the strangest twists in their family’s history.

The irony was almost laughable.

The two men who had once fought over everything had discovered that they could work remarkably well together.

But that did not mean the old rivalry had disappeared.

Not completely.

Old grudges had a way of surviving even after the people who created them were gone.

The Fosters and Daltons could shake hands.

They could sit at the same table.

They could even call each other friends.

But everyone from their circle knew there was still an invisible line between them.

A line neither family crossed lightly.

...

Back to the present, Mary was still wondering what brought the Fosters to the gala, when Leanne suddenly looked toward the far end of the ballroom.

”Oh.”

Her voice was soft.

”There she is.”

Mary followed her gaze.

Leanne pointed toward the entrance just as Isobel stepped out of the ballroom with Kristoff.

Mary’s eyes immediately narrowed.

Isobel and Kristoff, together.

Her gaze flickered between the two of them.

At that exact moment, Selene returned from the restroom, adjusting the bracelet around her wrist as she approached the ballroom.

Mary’s attention shifted to her.

Her eyes widened slightly.

Selene?