The Billionaire's Price For My Baby

The interior of the Lincoln was silent, insulated from the chaotic noise of Manhattan traffic. The air conditioning was set to a chill that made goosebumps rise on Elaina's arms. She pressed herself into the corner of the leather seat, clutching her purse to her chest as if it could shield her from the woman sitting opposite.

Constance Conway held the pregnancy test stick in a tissue, examining it like a jeweler inspecting a diamond for flaws.

"Adrian's," she stated. It wasn't a question. "Six weeks. The timing aligns perfectly with the gala."

"It could be anyone's," Elaina lied, her voice trembling.

Constance reached into the seat pocket and pulled out a manila envelope. She tossed it onto Elaina's lap.

Elaina opened it. Photographs spilled out. Grainy, black-and-white images taken from security footage. Elaina and Adrian entering the private elevator at the hotel. Elaina leaving the next morning, disheveled, wearing the same dress.

"I keep tabs on my son's investments," Constance said smoothly. "And his liabilities. You, Miss Carroll, have just become a significant liability."

Elaina shoved the photos back into the envelope, feeling violated. "I didn't plan this. It was an accident."

"Accidents are for poor people," Constance sneered. "In this family, we have consequences." She leaned forward. "Here is the deal. You carry the child to term. You hand it over to the Conway family immediately after birth. You sign away your parental rights. In exchange, you receive one million dollars and a nondisclosure agreement that will bury this secret forever."

Elaina's stomach lurched. "I'm not a surrogate," she said, her voice gaining a fraction of strength. "I'm not selling my baby."

Constance laughed, a dry, brittle sound. "Don't be sentimental. Look at your bank account. You can barely afford your rent in Queens. How do you plan to raise a Conway heir? On food stamps?"

The car slowed and pulled over to the curb in front of a private members' club. Constance tapped on the partition glass.

"Get out," she commanded. "Think about it. You have twenty-four hours before I destroy you."

The door opened. Elaina stumbled out onto the sidewalk, dazed. The Lincoln pulled away, disappearing into the stream of yellow taxis.

She stood there, shivering in the afternoon breeze. Her phone vibrated in her hand. She looked down at the screen. St. Louis General Hospital.

Her heart stopped. She answered immediately. "Hello? Is it Mom?"

"Miss Carroll," the doctor's voice was grave. "I'm afraid I have bad news. Your mother's condition has deteriorated rapidly in the last twelve hours. The experimental trial is her only option now."

"Okay," Elaina said, tears springing to her eyes. "Okay, put her on it. Please."

"We can't," the doctor said. "The insurance company denied the claim this morning. They consider it elective. We need a down payment of two hundred thousand dollars to begin the protocol. Without it, we have to transfer her to hospice care. You have until tomorrow morning."

Elaina felt the blood drain from her face. "Two hundred thousand? I don't... I can't..."

"I'm sorry, Miss Carroll. We need the funds." The line went dead.

Elaina dropped the phone to her side. The city sounds-horns, sirens, chatter-faded into a dull roar. She sank down onto a bench, burying her face in her hands. Her mother was dying. She was pregnant. And she had nothing.

Desperate, she dialed the only other number she knew by heart.

"Mitch," she whispered when the call connected.

"Elaina!" Her father's voice was boisterous, underscored by the unmistakable chime of slot machines. "My lucky charm! Listen, I'm up a grand, but I need a little float to keep the streak going. Can you wire me five hundred?"

"Dad, Mom is dying," Elaina sobbed into the phone. "The hospital needs money. Do you have anything? Anything at all?"

There was a pause on the line. Then Mitch's tone shifted, becoming whiny and defensive. "Dying? She's always dying. Look, I'm in a hole here, Elaina. Some bad guys are looking for me. I was hoping you could help me out."

"You don't care," she whispered, the realization hitting her like a stone. "You never cared."

"Don't give me that high-and-mighty attitude," Mitch snapped. "You owe me. I raised you."

Elaina ended the call. She stared at the screen saver-a photo of her mother, smiling, before the cancer took her hair and her light.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand. She stood up. She looked in the direction the Lincoln had gone.

She didn't have a choice. She never had a choice.

Thirty minutes later, Elaina was escorted into the boardroom on the top floor of Conway Enterprises. The room was vast, dominated by a long glass table. Constance sat at the head. A lawyer sat to her right.

"I see you've come to your senses," Constance said, not looking up from her papers.

"I have a condition," Elaina said, her voice steady despite the trembling of her hands. "I need full medical coverage for my mother. Including transfer to the specialist clinic in Switzerland. And the cash upfront."

Constance looked at the lawyer, who nodded slightly. "Done," Constance said. "But the terms have changed."

"Changed?"

"The board is restless," Constance said, standing up and walking to the window. "Rumors of Adrian's bachelor lifestyle are affecting stock stability. They want a family man. A stable legacy." She turned to Elaina. "You won't just be giving up the baby. You will marry Adrian."

Elaina took a step back. "Marriage? He hates me. He'll never agree to that."

"He will do what is necessary for the company," Constance said coldly. "And you will do what is necessary for your mother."

The lawyer slid a contract across the table. Prenuptial Agreement. Medical Trust Fund Addendum.

Elaina read the lines. Immediate transfer of funds to St. Louis General. It was her mother's life, written in legal jargon.

The heavy double doors crashed open. Adrian strode in, his face a mask of fury.

"Mother, what the hell is this meeting?" He stopped when he saw Elaina. His eyes narrowed. "What is she doing here?"

Constance didn't flinch. She picked up the ultrasound receipt from the table and slammed it down in front of him.

"She is here because of this."

Adrian looked down. He read the receipt. The color drained from his face, leaving him gray. He looked at Elaina, then back at the paper. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek.

"You told her?" Adrian hissed at Elaina. "You came running to her for a payout?"

"I didn't-" Elaina started.

"Monday morning," Constance announced, drowning her out. "City Hall. It's already arranged. The press release goes out at noon."

Adrian stared at Elaina. The look in his eyes wasn't just anger anymore. It was betrayal. It was loathing. He thought she had planned this. He thought she had trapped him.

"Come with me," Adrian said, his voice low and dangerous. He didn't wait for an answer. He turned and stormed out of the boardroom.

Elaina looked at the contract, then at Constance's smug face. She grabbed the pen, signed her name in a jagged scrawl, and ran after the father of her child.