Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 25

Aria's POV

"I have a proposition for you," Damian said.

"I'm not interested in whatever sick game you're—"

"Two million euros."

The number hit me like a physical blow. My mouth went dry, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. Two million euros was more money than I could comprehend, more than I could earn in ten lifetimes of scraping by.

"I'm sorry, what?" The words barely escaped my throat.

"Two million euros. Plus complete medical care for your sister—dialysis, transplant surgery, all post-operative treatment, the finest physicians in Europe." His voice remained conversational, as if he were discussing dinner plans rather than a sum that could transform my entire existence. "Interested now?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. This had to be some kind of cruel joke. Men like Damian Cavalieri didn't just offer life-changing amounts of money to desperate girls like me without wanting something terrible in return.

"What..." I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. "What would you want for that kind of money?"

He reached into his jacket and withdrew a folded document, placing it on the leather seat between us.

"I need an heir," he said simply.

The words didn't compute at first. I stared at him blankly, waiting for clarification that would make sense of what he'd just said.

"A what?"

"An heir. A child. Specifically, a son to secure my position within the Cavalieri family." His tone was matter-of-fact, clinical, as if he were ordering office supplies rather than discussing creating human life. "The family legacy requires legitimate succession, and I find myself in need of... genetic contribution from an appropriate candidate."

"You want me to have your baby," I said, the words feeling foreign and terrible on my tongue.

"I want you to carry my child, yes. For the compensation I mentioned, plus every comfort and advantage money can provide." He gestured toward the document with casual indifference. "The terms are quite generous."

I stared at him in absolute shock, my mind refusing to process what I was hearing. "You're insane. You're completely insane if you think I would ever—"

"During the pregnancy, you would live at my estate under the care of the finest physicians in Italy," he continued, completely ignoring my protest. "Every need would be anticipated, every comfort provided. Your sister would receive the absolute best medical treatment available—the transplant she needs, full recovery care, anything required to ensure her complete health."

"Stop." The word came out strangled. "Just stop talking."

But he didn't stop. His voice remained calm, controlled, as if my obvious distress meant nothing to him.

"After the child is born, you would receive your compensation and disappear from our lives entirely. The child would be raised as my heir, with all the advantages that position provides. You would have no parental rights or responsibilities."

The casual cruelty of it made something snap inside me. "You want me to give birth to your child and then just... walk away? Never see them again?"

"That's exactly what I want. A clean transaction with no emotional complications, no ongoing entanglements, no messy custody disputes." His voice was devoid of any recognition that we were discussing a human being. "The child would have the Cavalieri name, the Cavalieri fortune, and all the protection that comes with both."

I felt like I was drowning, gasping for air in a world that had suddenly become unrecognizable. "This is monstrous. What you're suggesting is absolutely monstrous."

"Is it?" Damian's eyebrows rose slightly. "I'm offering to solve every problem you've ever had. Your sister's medical bills, your financial insecurity, your complete lack of prospects. In exchange, you would carry my child for nine months. Nine months of luxury, security, the finest care money can buy."

"You're talking about a human being!" My voice cracked with emotion. "A baby! My baby! And you want me to just... hand them over like some kind of commodity?"

"Your baby?" His laugh was cold, cutting. "What exactly would make it yours beyond biological contribution? The poverty you'd raise them in? The insecurity? The constant struggle for basic necessities?"

"Love," I said fiercely, tears starting to blur my vision. "I could give them love."

"Love." He repeated the word like it was something distasteful. "Love doesn't pay for education, piccola. Love doesn't provide security or opportunity. Love doesn't open doors or create futures."

"Love matters more than money."

"Does it? Tell me, would your sister prefer your love or the kidney transplant that would save her life?" His eyes were merciless, stripping away every romantic notion I'd ever held. "Would you rather cling to your principles and watch her die, or swallow your pride and give her a chance to live?"

The question hit like a dagger to my heart. Because wasn't that exactly the choice I was facing? Jessica's life hung in the balance, and I was powerless to save her through conventional means.

"That's not fair," I whispered.

"Fair?" Damian leaned forward, his presence overwhelming in the confined space. "Nothing about your situation is fair. Your sister is dying because you can't afford to save her. You're working degrading jobs for scraps while men like your ex-boyfriend dismiss you as worthless. Where's the fairness in that?"

"This is different. This is..." I struggled to find words for the magnitude of what he was asking. "This is selling my soul."

"This is accepting reality. Your sister needs medical treatment that costs more money than you'll see in your lifetime. I need an heir to secure my family's position. We can solve each other's problems."

"By creating a child and then ripping them away from their mother?"

"By giving a child every advantage wealth and power can provide. Tell me, what's more important—your emotional attachment to a hypothetical child, or your sister's very real, immediate need for life-saving treatment?"

I pressed my hands against my face, trying to block out his words, but they echoed in my mind anyway. Two million euros. Jessica's transplant. A future free from the constant terror of watching her slip away.

But at what cost?

"The child would want for nothing," Damian continued relentlessly. "The best education money can buy, connections that would open any door, protection that would shield them from every hardship you've ever endured. What could you possibly offer that would compare to that?"

"I could offer them a mother who actually wanted them!" The words exploded out of me, raw with pain and fury. "I could offer them love and warmth and someone who would put their needs before everything else!"

"Could you? When you can't even afford basic medical care? When you're working in clubs and groveling for servant positions just to survive?" His voice was brutal in its honesty. "What kind of life would that be for a child?"

"This is wrong. What you're proposing... it goes against everything human and decent."

"What's wrong is watching the people you love suffer because you're too proud to accept practical solutions." His voice followed me as I opened the door. "When you're ready to put your sister's life above your moral objections, you know how to reach me."

"I won't do it," I said, my voice stronger than I felt. "I won't sell my baby to you, no matter how much money you offer."

"Won't you?" His smile was knowing, terrible in its confidence. "We'll see."

I slammed the car door with every ounce of strength I possessed, the sound echoing through the quiet street like a gunshot.