At my company physical, when I was nineteen, I found out I was pregnant. With triplets. A coworker made a hundred copies of my ultrasound report and scattered them all over the golf course. “You little tramp! Became a caddy just to snag a rich guy! You really think a baby is your golden ticket into high society?” “Girls like you are just toys for the wealthy. No one’s going to take responsibility for you!” The wealthy wives on the course descended on me like vultures, treating me as if I was the homewrecker who had seduced their husbands. Just as they were dragging me away, planning to force me to get an abortion, the city’s most powerful heir appeared. “The babies are mine,” he said. I smiled. Not long ago, blessed with a naturally fertile body, I was handpicked by the wealthiest family in the country. My job? To have a baby for the “barren” heir. 1 I was collecting balls on the golf course when a nouveau riche client groped me. A wave of nausea hit me, and I gagged. He stormed off in disgust, but then my brother’s voice came from behind me. “Mia… are you pregnant?” His words were like a splash of cold water. I realized I hadn’t had my period in over a month. The look on my face was all the answer he needed. “I’m such a burden!” he cried, pounding his chest in self-loathing. “If it wasn’t for my kidney failure, you never would have gone down this path!” He didn’t want to be a burden. But all I wanted was for him to live. That was why I’d taken the job as a caddy at this exclusive golf club. I had one goal: Sleep with Julian Gunn, the city’s most eligible and powerful heir, and get the money for my brother’s kidney transplant. But when I actually became Julian’s caddy, I discovered he was fiercely loyal to an old flame, practically a monk. Just when I thought I was at a dead end, Julian’s grandfather found me. “I’ve had a full background check done on you,” the old Mr. Gunn began, blunt and to the point. “You and your brother grew up in an orphanage. He has renal failure, which is why you’re here, trying to ‘earn’ money.” He put a heavy emphasis on the word ‘earn.’ My little scheme was transparent to him. But he seemed unfazed, continuing in his cold, measured tone. “You’re intelligent, attractive, and healthy. No promiscuous history. And most importantly, you’re naturally fertile. You are a perfect candidate to carry on the Gunn family line.” At the words “carry on the family line,” my head snapped up. My foggy brain cleared in an instant. Julian was the ninth-generation sole heir to the Gunn fortune. But because of his old love, Grace, he was still single at thirty. It was clear the old man was running out of patience. The Gunns knew so much about my physical condition because of the extensive medical exam I’d had to take for this job. No wonder it had been so thorough. This golf club wasn’t just a club; it was a screening ground for the Gunn family’s surrogate. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to hide the wild joy erupting inside me. But when the butler handed me the “Procreation KPI Agreement,” the strings of zeros—tens of millions of dollars—blinded me. Clause 1: A three-month probationary period. Successful conception within this period will result in a bonus of ten million dollars. Clause 2: Successful delivery of a female child will result in a bonus of eighty million dollars. Clause 3: Successful delivery of a male child will result in a bonus of one hundred million dollars. Clause 4: Successful delivery of two or more children, regardless of gender, will result in an additional bonus of ten million dollars. Clause 5: For exceeding KPIs, each additional child will result in an extra ten million dollars. The final clause: The more you produce, the more you earn. No upper limit. Suddenly, I saw a constellation of zeros floating before my eyes. It wasn’t just money. It was my brother’s life, and the future we had only ever dreamed of. “If you find the terms agreeable, you may sign,” the old man said. “Agreeable! Yes, it’s all agreeable!” I snatched the pen from the butler, terrified that if I waited a second longer, Mr. Gunn would change his mind. My unabashed greed seemed to please him. Of course. I was his employee now, and what boss doesn’t want an employee motivated by money? How else would I be driven to meet my KPIs? 2 With the contract signed, the only thing left was the ‘how.’ How was I going to sleep with Julian Gunn? The old man knew his grandson was practically immune to women, so he took matters into his own hands. He drugged him. He patted my shoulder, his voice grave. “Mia, I’m only helping you this once. The rest is up to you.” I knew what he wasn’t saying: If you’re not pregnant in three months, you’re out. Desperate for money, I seized the opportunity my ‘boss’ had created for me. That night, after Julian had drunk the tainted water, I just happened to be “passing by.” Dazed and consumed by a drug-induced lust, he pulled me into his car, tearing at my clothes, murmuring promises that he would take responsibility. A thrill shot through me. But I played my part, feigning innocence, struggling just enough to be convincing. The thought of my brother waiting for a life-saving transplant pushed all pain and shame from my mind. Perhaps the old man had used a potent dose. That night, Julian’s stamina was incredible. He took me again and again. To maintain my “innocent victim” persona, I waited until he was asleep, then, despite the searing pain in my body, I quietly slipped away. The next time I saw him was the following day. He tossed a black credit card at me. “No limit. Spend whatever you want.” So, this was what he meant by taking responsibility. As tempting as it was, I had principles. I had a contract with his grandfather; I wasn’t going to double-dip. “Thank you, Mr. Gunn,” I said, pushing the card back into his hand. “But last night was just an accident. We should both just forget it.” I turned and walked away, leaving him with the image of a fragile, vulnerable girl. A flash of surprise crossed his face. In that moment, I knew I had piqued his curiosity. 3 In the days that followed, I continued to be Julian’s caddy, but I was careful to maintain a professional distance. I could feel his unspoken questions hanging in the air. In truth, I wasn’t as composed as I appeared. Every day, I prayed that I had gotten pregnant on that one night. But I had a backup plan. Even if I hadn’t, I had at least established a certain persona in his mind. Creating another “opportunity” within the three-month window wasn’t impossible. A good employee always has a contingency plan. Perhaps fate was on my side. I had hit the jackpot. Not only was I pregnant, I was pregnant with triplets. I had exceeded my KPIs in a single month. When the doctor announced the news, old Mr. Gunn was so thrilled he slapped his thigh in delight. He immediately transferred ten million dollars to my account, and from then on, even the way he looked at me softened. I was already doing the math. If all three were boys, I’d get three hundred million. Ten million for the pregnancy, another ten for having more than one child, and ten more for exceeding the quota. The grand total could be three hundred and thirty million dollars. Oh, my God. I thought I was going to faint from sheer happiness. This money wouldn't just pay for my brother’s transplant; it would allow him to pursue his dream of becoming a concert pianist. “Ahem.” My excitement must have been too obvious. Mr. Gunn cleared his throat, pulling me back to reality. “Mia, you just focus on a healthy pregnancy. I’ll make sure Julian gives you and the children a proper name.” A name? His words stunned me for a moment. I had assumed the plan was to take the babies and discard the mother. High-society families were all about pedigree. But it seemed that for the sake of his great-grandchildren, the Gunn family was willing to accept me. So, under Mr. Gunn’s direction, my pregnancy report was slipped into the file with the other employee health records at the club. I deliberately let a jealous coworker find it. I deliberately set the stage for Julian to “rescue” me, the poor, innocent victim. Which brings us back to the beginning, to the scene of the powerful heir playing the hero. 4 What I didn’t expect was that Julian would drive me straight to a hospital. He was stone-faced the entire way. “You’re getting an abortion. You can’t have these babies right now.” “Okay.” I ignored the second half of his sentence and only answered the first. My calm, tearless agreement seemed to throw him off. I’m sure he thought I would try to use the pregnancy to trap him into marriage. My quick compliance was the last thing he expected. The truth was, I did want to marry into the Gunn family. Agreeing to the abortion was just part of the act. “Don’t worry, Mr. Gunn. I grew up an orphan. I would never let my children be illegitimate. If you can’t give me a commitment, I won’t have them.” With that, I got out of the car and strode purposefully toward the hospital entrance. One step, two steps, three… Just as I was about to walk through the doors, Mr. Gunn arrived, right on cue. One command—the babies must be kept—and one Rolls-Royce later, Julian and I were on our way to the city hall. To my surprise, Julian didn’t protest at all. I’d heard his parents had died when he was young and that his grandfather had raised him. I figured he was going along with it out of concern for the old man’s health. He was marrying me and keeping the babies just to avoid upsetting his grandfather. But as we stood there, marriage certificate in hand, Julian leaned in and whispered, “You’re too young. Giving birth is risky for you.” “Huh?” I didn’t understand why he would say that. But then it clicked. He was explaining why he had taken me to get an abortion. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to take responsibility; it was because he was worried about me. I’ll admit, in that moment, I was touched. Other than my brother, Julian was the first man who had ever shown any concern for my well-being. Perhaps sensing my insecurity, he added, “But Grandpa was right. An abortion would be even worse for your health at your age.” “Just focus on having the babies. I said I would take responsibility, and I will. For you and for them.” A man who was rich, responsible, and caring… it was a dangerously attractive combination. But my rational mind reminded me: this is a job. Do not get emotionally involved. I immediately puffed out my chest and made a promise. “Don’t worry, Mr. Gunn! The day your old flame comes back, I’ll be out of your hair in a flash. We’ll get a divorce, no problem.” The air between us froze. The warm, gentle expression on Julian’s face vanished, replaced by a thunderous scowl. Right. The old flame. His one weak spot. I really shouldn’t have brought her up. 5 On the way back from the city hall to the Gunn estate, I sent a picture of the marriage certificate to my brother. After he’d found out I was pregnant, he had tried to kill himself, not wanting to be a burden on me any longer. Thankfully, he had been saved in time. When Mr. Gunn learned I was pregnant, he was worried my brother’s condition would cause me stress. He had a long talk with him privately. I don’t know what they discussed, but after that, my brother agreed to go abroad for the transplant surgery. Ping. A message from him came through almost immediately. [Congratulations, Mia! I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.] [Focus on your health! I’m going to work hard and get strong, so I can be there to support you and the babies.] The short message was filled with love and longing. Tears streamed down my face. As I wiped them away, I met Julian’s searching gaze. A pang of guilt hit me, and I couldn’t hold his eye. I quickly turned away, but a sudden stop sent me tumbling into his arms. His chest was surprisingly solid. Suddenly, flashes of our night together filled my mind, and my face burned hot. Thankfully, we arrived at the Gunn estate just then, and I was relieved to escape the confines of the car. The opulence of the Gunn home was beyond anything I could have imagined. The guest bathroom alone was larger than the entire space I had occupied for the first nineteen years of my life. In that moment, I truly understood the chasm that the word ‘class’ represented. And it only strengthened my resolve to climb out of the world I had been born into. I was nervous walking into the house, but the staff all treated me with the utmost respect, addressing me as “Mrs. Gunn.” A team of over a hundred people—doctors, nutritionists, chefs—was assigned to my care. Of course, I wasn’t naive enough to think that Mr. Gunn had truly accepted me as his granddaughter-in-law. This was a classic case of my value being tied to my womb. Still, it all felt so surreal that I got a little carried away. I found myself sitting at a grand piano, my fingers hovering over the keys. My brother and I had been briefly fostered by a concert pianist. He had said my brother had the hands of a musician. While he taught my brother, I would sit beside them, my chin resting on my hands, watching. For a little while, I had thought we had finally found a home… “Don’t touch that.” A sharp voice cut through my memories. I flinched, snatching my hand back as if burned. Julian strode toward me, his grip on my wrist painfully tight. “Who gave you permission to touch it?” he demanded, his eyes boring into me. “I… I’m sorry… I was just…” I was terrified, stammering to explain. “I was just thinking about my brother…” “Your brother?” Julian sneered, his eyes turning colder. “Is it a habit for both of you to touch things that don’t belong to you? No wonder you were given up so many times.” My mind went blank. So, he had investigated me too. He knew about my history of being returned to the orphanage. But his taunt didn't hurt. I had heard worse. I was immune. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gunn,” I said softly, gently pulling my hand from his grasp. I managed a perfectly tragic smile. “I promise it won’t happen again.” Even though I didn’t care, I still had to play the victim. Julian seemed to realize he had gone too far. His tone softened. “That piano belonged to Grace. She doesn’t like other people touching it.” “I understand,” I said, forcing another smile as I gracefully retreated. His guilt was exactly what I wanted.
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