Selene's POV
I followed him into the helicopter without hesitation,besides I was now as good as a slave. The helicopter lifted off the private airstrip with a deep, throbbing roar that vibrated through my bones and drowned out every thought.
Carlos sat opposite me, legs crossed, hands resting loosely on his thighs. He hadn't spoken since "Get in." He hadn't even looked at me properly. Just stared out his window.
The silence stretched so long it felt like a physical weight pressing on my chest.
After about twenty-five minutes, the helicopter began its descent. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass and watched the landscape change. We were flying over dark cliffs now, the Pacific Ocean a vast black mirror below, broken only by the white foam of waves crashing against rocks. Then I saw it, a sprawling estate perched on the edge of the world.
We touched down with a gentle thud that still rattled my teeth.
Carlos unbuckled without a glance in my direction and stepped out first. I followed, wind whipping my tangled hair across my face. Two security men in black suits materialized from the shadows near the helipad, nodding once at Carlos but saying nothing.
He led the way across the smooth tarmac, through massive sliding glass doors that parted silently, into a foyer so vast it stole the breath from my lungs.
Everything was pristine. Cold. Beautiful in the way a museum exhibit is beautiful and meant to be looked at, not lived in.
Carlos stopped in the center of the foyer and turned to face me.
"A wire transfer has already been made to St. Augustine Medical Center," he said, voice flat and matter-of-fact. "Eighty thousand dollars for the emergency surgery, plus an additional two hundred thousand for full ongoing care,private specialists, the best nephrologist in the state, a VIP recovery suite and any post-operative therapy required. Your mother will be moved by morning."
My knees nearly buckled.
The relief hit so hard it felt like pain. Tears welled up again, hot and sudden. I opened my mouth, closed it and opened it again.
"Thank you," I whispered. The words tasted like ash and gratitude at the same time.
He gave a single curt nod. "You're welcome. Now go shower. You still smell like last night. Be in the dining room in twenty minutes ,we have details to discuss."
He pointed toward a hallway on the right. "Your suite is the last door on the left. Clothes are in the closet. Don't be late."
I hesitated for a second. "You… you really did it? The money is there?"
Carlos's eyes met mine for the first time since the airstrip. "I don't make promises I don't keep, Selene. The funds cleared thirty minutes ago. Check the hospital app if you need proof."
I swallowed hard. "I believe you."
"Good. Twenty minutes."
I turned and walked down the corridor on numb legs, past abstract paintings that probably cost more than my entire life savings, past doors that led to rooms I didn't dare look into, until I reached the suite.
It was obscene.
A king-sized bed dominated the space, draped in silk sheets the color of moonlight. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the endless black ocean. A walk-in closet was already filled with dresses, blouses, jeans, lingerie all in my exact size, tags still attached.
The bathroom was bigger than my entire Echo Park apartment.I stripped the red dress off like it was contaminated and let it fall to the floor in a heap.
The mirror caught me for a second but I turned away quickly and stepped under the shower,I couldn't look at the image that stood before me.
When I stepped out with steam fogging the mirrors, I chose the plainest things I could find,a soft gray cashmere sweater that felt too luxurious against my skin paired with a simple black leggings.
Twenty minutes later I walked into the dining room with the help of the butler who stood by the bedroom door.
Carlos was already seated at the head of a long ebony table that could have seated twenty people comfortably. One place was set opposite him. A single glass of water waited.
He looked up as I entered. His expression didn't change.
"Sit."
I did.
He pushed a thin folder toward me.The same contract, now with fresh pages stapled to the back.
"Read the addendum," he said.
I opened it with trembling fingers.
- Full medical coverage for Elena Hayes commenced immediately (wire confirmation attached).
- Monthly allowance of $10,000 for personal expenses during pregnancy (deposited to a new account in your name; card in the envelope).
- Mandatory fertility evaluation and prenatal baseline appointment tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. at Rodriguez Private Clinic.
- Marriage registration to be filed within 48 hours. A civil ceremony with no guests nor the media. Public announcement as "engaged" at the Rodriguez Foundation gala in three days (dress and stylist will be provided).
- Conception timeline: natural attempts preferred; assisted reproduction only if no progress after three months of regular attempts.
- Post-birth: primary custody to Carlos Rodriguez. Selene retains court-approved visitation rights if mutually agreed upon. Final payment of $2.5 million upon live birth of a male child and legal transfer of parental rights to Carlos Rodriguez.
- House rules: separate bedrooms unless conception is scheduled; no unauthorized guests and definitely no media contact; full access to the estate but restricted areas marked.
I read it twice. My throat closed tighter with every line.
"You're moving fast," I said quietly, barely above a whisper.
"I don't have the luxury of time." He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
I looked up at him, eyes burning. "So what does this make me then,a slave?"
He didn't flinch. "You're the woman who signed the contract. That makes you the mother of my child. Nothing more."
I swallowed hard. "And the marriage? The public announcement? Why not just… keep it private?"
"Because appearances matter in my world. It protects the child. It protects his inheritance."
I stared at the folder. "And me? What does it protect for me?"
He met my gaze steadily. "Your mother's life and your financial security. A future without debt or fear. That's more than most people get from a contract like this."
I laughed "You make it sound noble."
"It isn't noble and necessary." He paused. "You signed because you had no choice. I'm not pretending otherwise. But now that you're here, you will follow the terms without drama."
I looked down at my hands. "And if I can't? If I break?"
His voice softened "Then the payments stop. The medical coverage ends. And you go back to scraping together twenty thousand dollars at a time while your mother waits for the next crisis."
The threat hung between us like smoke.
I closed the folder. "Fine. I understand."
"Good." He stood. "We retire at ten. Your suite is yours. Breakfast at seven. I'll see you then."
He turned toward the doorway leading to the main hall.
Just as he reached the threshold, a voice called out from behind him.The voice was almost identical to Carlos's but laced with a sharper, more playful edge.
"Hey, Carlos."
I turned instinctively.
A man stood in the archway.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Same sharp jawline, same dark eyes, same height. An exact replica of the man I had just signed his contract offer.
A smirk played on his lips, casual and dangerous. He wore a black shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing forearms corded with muscle.
Carlos stopped dead. His shoulders stiffened.
The man stepped fully into the light, hands in his pockets, smile widening as his gaze flicked from Carlos to me.
A quiet moment stretched.Then he spoke again.
"Who's the Lady, baby brother?"