The Surrogate He Discarded

Meanwhile, after feeding the twins and playing with them until they drifted off to sleep, Isobel returned to her room.

She changed into her nightclothes and sat on the edge of the bed, but sleep refused to come.

Her mind replayed every word spoken in Julian’s study.

She had a father, and it was Julian Foster, the well-respected tycoon who brought the Fosters to new heights.

The man she had respected from afar all these years...

...was her father.

And Morgan—

A small smile tugged at her lips.

He wasn’t just her employer anymore.

He was her brother.

A brother who had helped her a lot.

Her eyes gradually turned misty.

For as long as she could remember, she had envied children who had families waiting for them after school, parents who celebrated their birthdays, siblings who argued over the television remote.

She had convinced herself she didn’t need any of those things.

She had survived alone.

No, not alone. She had brothers and sisters in the orphanage.

But tonight...she found out she had a real brother and sister.

For the first time in her life...she felt that she belonged somewhere.

She curled onto her side, hugging the blanket against her chest.

Please don’t let this be a dream, she silently prayed.

If it is... I don’t ever want to wake up.

She tossed and turned, unable to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside her. Every time she closed her eyes, Julian’s tear-filled gaze and Morgan’s reassuring smile flashed before her.

Minutes crawled by.

The room was cloaked in silence.

Then—

BZZT!

Her smartwatch vibrated violently against her wrist.

A split second later—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Her cellphone erupted with a piercing alarm.

”CODE RED!”

”CODE RED!”

”CODE RED!”

Isobel bolted upright, her heart lurching into her throat.

For a brief, disoriented moment, she stared blankly at the flashing screen, her mind still trapped between dream and reality.

Then her instinct took over. She grabbed her phone.

The color drained from her face.

Subject: Alexander Dalton

Status: No respiration detected.

Immediate intervention required.

Estimated time before irreversible damage: 5 minutes.

”No...”

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

Alexander wasn’t breathing.

Every second mattered.

Without wasting another moment, Isobel slammed her thumb onto the emergency response button on her phone as she sprinted toward the table.

She needed her laptop to have more control.

Alexander couldn’t die.

...

At the Dalton mansion, the night was eerily quiet.

Kristoff slept soundly, his breathing slow and even, seemingly oblivious to the woman lying beside him.

Charlotte, however, remained wide awake.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Earlier that evening, she had casually instructed Alexander’s nanny to place the oversized stuffed toy she had brought inside the crib beside Alexander. She insisted it would make him feel more secure while he slept.

The nanny had complied without question.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at Charlotte’s lips.

The plush toy was unusually large and deceptively heavy. It wouldn’t take much for it to topple into the slipping baby.

And once that happened...

All it would take was a few precious minutes before an innocent accident become a tragedy.

She stared at the dark ceiling, and her thought drifted to the man beside her, resentment and frustration churning inside her.

She had gone to great lengths to prepare for her sleepover with him. She had chosen a figure-hugging silk nightgown, applied his favorite perfume, and even lit scented candles to create a romantic atmosphere.

She had hoped they could finally bridge the growing distance between them.

Instead...

Kristoff had merely glanced at her before saying in a weary voice,

”Let’s just get some sleep.”

Then he had turned off the bedside lamp, lay down, and within minutes had fallen asleep.

That was all.

There was no kiss. Not an embrace and not even a lingering look.

Charlotte bit her lower lip.

This wasn’t the first time.

For months, Kristoff had kept her at arm’s length, always finding an excuse. Work. Fatigue. Meetings. Stress.

At first, she had convinced herself he was simply overwhelmed by the responsibilities of running the Dalton Group.

But now...

Doubt had begun to consume her.

Could there be something wrong with him?

She had heard whispers of powerful men struggling with intimacy because of stress, while others suffered from conditions they were too proud to admit.

A ridiculous thought crossed her mind.

Was Kristoff... incapable?

If that were true...then perhaps Isobel hadn’t conceived Alexander naturally at all.

Perhaps the surrogacy had relied on in vitro fertilization from the very beginning.

Otherwise...why did he keep rejecting her?

Charlotte slowly turned her head toward the sleeping man beside her. His handsome face remained calm, almost detached.

She searched for even the slightest sign that he desired her. There was none. An ache spread through her chest.

Or...

Was the problem never him?

Was it...

her?

The thought pierced far deeper than she wanted to admit.

...

A shrill alarm shattered the silence of the night.

Kristoff’s eyes flew open.

The moment he recognized the distinctive sound, every trace of sleep vanished.

”Alex!”

He sprang from the bed and bolted for the door.

The nursery was only a few steps from his bedroom.

But in an emergency like this...

A few steps could mean the difference between life and death.

If he arrived even a minute too late...

His son would die.

He thought that the alarm had been triggered by Kitkat, Aoiryx’s AI-powered robotic puppy. The device was programmed with multiple emergency alerts, each assigned a different tone depending on the severity of the situation.

This one...

...was the highest-level warning.

Code Red.

Alexander was in critical danger.

Kristoff burst into the nursery.

The sight before him made his blood run cold.

A massive stuffed teddy bear had toppled into the crib, completely covering the spot where Alexander should have been.

”No!”

Adrenaline surged through his body.

Without a second thought, he lunged forward, seized the heavy bear with both hands, and hurled it across the room. It crashed violently against the wall before collapsing onto the floor.

Kristoff’s gaze immediately dropped to his son.

His heart nearly stopped.

Alexander’s tiny face had turned a frightening shade of bluish-purple.

His eyes were tightly shut.

His little chest...

...wasn’t moving.