Page 1 of The Bratva Bosses' Surrogate

Chapter 1

Sofia

I’m perched in this cozy café, fidgeting in anticipation. Finally, the moment to meet Jason, the man I agreed to be a surrogate for, has arrived. Our chats were online. He sounded like a sweet person, and if everything goes right, I’ll be signing the contract today. He’s also paying a decent amount.

Everything seems legit. I mean, I didn’t exactly comb through every word of that contract, but hey, my agency’s solid, right? They must’ve checked it out.

Jason. That’s his name. I glance at my watch. 3 pm was the time we agreed to meet. He’s running late, fifteen minutes and counting. I can’t just sit here, twiddling my thumbs. It’s freezing outside, the kind of New Jersey winter which chills you to the bone. I need something warm.

“Hi, can I have the winter special, please? Thank you.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. If I were still slinging coffee as a barista, that drink wouldn’t be on my menu. That job... it was a grind, not for everyone. Like me. Which is exactly why I’m here, ready to be a surrogate. A new chapter, a new hope. Just waiting for Jason to turn the page.

I cradle my toffee nut coffee, retreating to a cozy corner. The cafe’s quiet, with folks buried in their laptops, either lost in work or deep in study. It’s warm, a contrast to the biting chill outside. I’m starting to relax, the aroma of my drink comforting.

Just then, the door swings open. In strides a woman, all black hair and confidence, her heels clicking against the floor. She’s braving the cold in a skirt, which I can’t help but admire. She scans the cafe, and her gaze locks onto mine.

She beelines towards me, a practiced smile on her lips. “Hi, I’m Stacey. You must be Sofia, the surrogate?”

Just who might this be? Jason never mentioned a woman.

I extend my hand, mirroring her smile. “Nice to meet you, Stacey. Are you the donor, perhaps?”

Her smile widens, but she shakes her head. “Oh no.”

We sit, and I’m even more curious now.

“So, who are you, then?” I ask. “Jason never mentioned anyone named Stacey.”

Stacey’s smile is patient as she reaches into her bag, pulling out a sleek, professional card. “Stacey Jones, Manager of Bright Futures Surrogacy Agency,” it reads.

My eyes widen in recognition. Of course! Stacey Jones, the name I’ve seen in emails and heard in hushed conversations at the agency. How did I not put it together sooner?

“Oh, Ms. Stacey!” I exclaim, a mix of embarrassment and surprise coloring my voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”

“It’s alright. I should have mentioned who I was as soon as I introduced myself, I just thought you’d recognized me.”

I’m embarrassed. Of course, I should have. “So, where’s Jason?”

Stacey leans in, “Jason won’t be joining us. He’s... out of the picture.”

I frown. “What do you mean? Is he sick? Did he send you instead?”

She shakes her head. “No. He’s pulled out of the contract.”

My heart sinks. “What? But he told me...”

Stacey interrupts gently, “We compensated him. He’s likely to look elsewhere now. But don’t worry, you have a new client, Sofia.”

I pause, processing this. A new client? “So, where is this client you mentioned?”

Stacey’s eyes hold mine, unwavering. “They won’t make it today. They’re quite… busy.” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

This feels sketchy, a tangle of questions swirling in my head.

I probe further. “Did you say ‘they’? Are we talking about a couple here?”

“No, not a couple,” Stacey clarifies. “Three prestigious businessmen.”

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