Page 5 of Quadruplets for the Vipers

“Our son, Levi, and his wife, April, were killed in a motorcycle accident six months ago. When they died, they had been trying for a baby. It was all they wanted, a little boy or girl of their own. But they were having problems, and they struggled to conceive. Before they died, they decided to undergo IVF treatment. The embryos were created, but they never got to the final stage. My husband and I have thought long andhard about this, and we want to honor their last wish and raise our grandchild. We want to bring the life they so desperately wanted into this world. Even if our son is gone, we can have our grandbaby.”

I look at them, perplexed, wondering what this could possibly have to do with me.

“We have a contract here that details everything,” Zeus says, slipping the paper across the table to me.

I read through it, noting the eyewatering sum of money they’re offering as well as board, protection, medical care, expenses, as well as an NDA to not share information with outsiders, and that I agree to grant full custody of the child following its birth to Donna and Zeus. It takes me a moment to comprehend what they’re asking of me.

“Wait… I’m sorry you want me to…”

“We want you to be the surrogate mother for our grandchild.”

Chapter 3

Leah

Six Weeks Later

It took me only three days of deliberation to agree to their offer. My initial reaction was no way. I’ve never been pregnant or had a child. Heck, motherhood isn’t something that I envisioned happening any time soon in my life. Normally, you need a partner for that, and I am painfully single. I told them that there are surrogate services out there with plenty of women who would happily carry the baby for them. But they were adamant they wanted me.

When asked why, they said there was no way they could use traditional methods. Given their criminal ties and the fact that it isn’t even their child, I suppose it makes sense. They also replied that I met their criteria: I was young, healthy, with no family history of poor health, and I reminded them a little of their daughter-in-law. For whatever reason, they’d decided I was the perfect person to do this for them.

I suppose, given the fact that I agreed, they weren’t totally wrong.

I’m probably certifiably insane to agree to carry the grandchild of a notorious gang leader. I also wonder if I could give up a child that I’ve carried for nine months. But the overwhelming reality is that I need money and protection, and I’ve got no other choice.

I’ve been homeless for six months, ever since I left my ex. At first, I lived in flea-ridden motels. For a brief time, I had a small apartment, but when he found me, I had to leave. Sincethen, the motel money has dried up, and I’ve been living in my truck. I barely make enough money to live, let alone afford the deposit for an apartment. Even if I did find a place, it’s only a matter of time before my ex shows up at my door.

With the offer of accommodation and protection, as well as enough money to finally escape this city and his clutches, I couldn’t resist. Being a surrogate for the Steel Vipers seems like my only chance. After several meetings, the contract signing, and an initial doctor’s appointment to ensure I am healthy and able to carry a child safely, as well as to work out the best time for implantation. That day has finally come.

I was surprised by the reaction when I handed in my notice at the Sugar Shack. I didn’t think I’d made much of an impression, but everyone wished me well and said they’d miss working with me. Big John told me, “You always were too good for this place, girl. Take care of yourself,” before pulling me into a bear hug.

Today, the IVF specialist will insert the embryo. I’ve been taking special medication for weeks to prepare my uterus for implantation to give us the highest chance of success. After this, I’ll move into the Steel Vipers’ clubhouse. Ostensibly to keep things secret, I’ll be there under the guise of working as the new waitress. Once my pregnancy is confirmed, only a few trusted members will know the truth to protect me.

The clinic where I am being treated is a little shady, to say the least. They pride themselves on discretion and are willing to overlook certain things for the right price. This means they don’t mind that Zeus and Donna are paying me to carry their dead son’s child, something that probably breaks multiple laws. Despite this, the doctors are competent and reassuring.

For every other appointment, Donna and Zeus have remained in the room, and this time is no exception, though at least they stay outside of the curtain so I can retain some privacy.

“How’s it going in there?” Donna calls out anxiously while the doctor fiddles around, inserting things into me.

“Everything’s fine, we’re almost done,” the doctor replies.

“We are?” I say, surprised at how quick and painless such a life-altering procedure is.

“Yep, all of the embryos have been successfully implanted. When you come back in two weeks, we’ll know for sure if you’re pregnant, but I’m confident of success.”

“Allthe embryos? I’m sorry, what do you mean, all of them?” I ask, confused.

“As we discussed in your last appointment, we’ve elected to implant multiple embryos to increase your chances of conception,” he explains.

Although I don’t recall this taking place, I suppose it’s likely I wasn’t listening properly or misunderstood the medical jargon.

“So I won’t give birth to a litter of children?” I ask, only half-joking.

He chuckles. “You have nothing to worry about; that’s very unlikely. Besides, that will be the parents’ problem,” he replies with a wink.

I want to yell that just because I won’t be raising the baby doesn’t mean I want to carry multiple babies around in my belly for nine months like a prize sow, but I keep quiet. Donna and Zeus have been good to me, I wouldn’t want to upset them bysaying the wrong thing or making them worry that I won’t hold up my end of the bargain and will want to keep the baby when it arrives.

The doctor fiddles around for a moment before declaring that we’re finished and that he will see me in two weeks for the blood test that will let us know if I’m pregnant or not. When I see Zeus and Donna’s hopeful faces as I emerge from behind the curtain, I send out a silent prayer to the universe that this works. As kind as they’ve been, I don’t know how they’d react if their one chance at a grandchild is ruined because of my inadequate uterus.

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