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Forced surrogate mother

Max was devastated when his wife left him for someone else, and his hatred for women only intensified. His ex-wife asked him to find a surrogate for the child she was carrying after the divorce. On his quest, he encountered Priscilla , a young woman living on the streets with her mother . Despite her unkempt appearance, Max offered her a contract to become the mother of his child. Desperate to save her ailing mother , she accepted the offer. As they began living together, Max realized how beautiful Priscilla was and was drawn to her. How could he turn a street girl into a proper wife and lover? How would he battle his ex-wife, who wanted him back after she was jilted by her lover? Follow the story of a powerful billionaire and a street kid girl as they journey through love, betrayal, and redemption. ......... All Right Reserved. This book is owned by me, and no one is allowed to use or adapt it in any way without my permission. My........ WARNING THE COVER OF THE BOOK IS NOT MiNE CREDIT GOING TO Al generator. .......... I like communicating with my readers. My Whatsapp number is 081 420 4300. My Facebook account is@ Nancy Micheal.

Edith_Skosana · Urban
Not enough ratings
90 Chs

Chapter 1

I was absolutely thrilled when I parked my car in my garage., I had just received the most wonderful news from my family doctor - my wife is pregnant! Although Nelly hadn't mentioned anything to me yet, I suspect she was planning to surprise me. With a spring in my step, I exited the car and headed towards my magnificent two-story mansion. However, my excitement was slightly dampened when I noticed the absence of guards at the door and maids in the house. Nevertheless, I made my way upstairs to my room, feeling overjoyed about the news I had just received.

As I approached my room, my heart began to race at the sound of moans emanating from within. The voices were unmistakably those of my wife and another man. The lumps in my throat were palpable, but I swallowed them down. Was Nelly cheating on me? Or was I simply hearing things? I didn't know what to think, but the only way to find out was to enter the room. As I reached for the door, I hesitated for a moment before flinging it open. What I saw before me was nothing short of a nightmare. Nelly was naked, straddling a man whose face I couldn't see. He held her waist as she rode him, thrusting in and out of her with abandon. I couldn't believe my eyes. How could Nelly do this to me? We had been together for nearly five years, and I had given her everything: money, love, time, attention, and anything else she could possibly need. And yet, here she was, betraying me in the most intimate way possible. The two of them stopped when they sensed my presence, but Nelly merely glanced at me and smirked before continuing as if I weren't even there. The sheer audacity of her actions left me feeling utterly hopeless and filled with despair.

"You're back early," she said, panting heavily. "You can join us here. We're having so much fun. Your uncle knows how to pleasure a woman, and the bed is big enough for two men. Come and join us. You might learn something new from him."

My knees buckled, and I nearly fell. Thankfully, I was close to the door, so I used it for support. Was Nelly really saying this to me, her husband? Did she have no shame in continuing to sleep with my uncle, even after I caught her? Why? Did I love her so much that she felt she could hurt me like this? To make matters worse, she moaned even louder as she picked up the pace. I was sure she was about to climax, and my stomach hardened at the thought. I couldn't take it anymore. My heart was shattered and aching at the same time. I pulled myself together and walked out of the room, heading to the study.

This situation was beyond unacceptable. It was downright despicable. How could Nelly do this to me? I had given her everything, and this was how she repaid me? With infidelity and betrayal? I couldn't fathom it. My mind was consumed with thoughts of her and my uncle, and I couldn't shake the image from my head. It was a nightmare, and I was living it.

I arrived at the destination in a few minutes, and with a heavy heart, I slumped onto my chair. I reluctantly reached for the jug of whisky and poured it into a glass. I downed it in one gulp, feeling the bitterness of the alcohol as it burned down my throat. With a deep sigh, I retrieved my phone from my pocket and dialled my assistant's number. After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked up.

"Contact my lawyer immediately. I demand that he prepares the divorce papers by this evening. Furthermore, I require you to locate a flawless, healthy woman who can bear my child," I barked into the phone before abruptly ending the call. I poured myself another glass of whisky and downed it in one gulp. Rising from my chair, I made my way to the bar to numb the pain in my heart. The woman I loved with every fibre of my being had caused me immense pain, far beyond what I had anticipated. The worst part was that she showed no remorse for her actions. It seemed as though I was not meant to experience love or be loved. My childhood sweetheart, Gucci, had betrayed me by cheating on me with my own uncle. I couldn't fathom why he felt the need to sleep with every woman I loved. Was he envious of my success and believed that taking my woman was the best way to get back at me? The pain I felt was indescribable. I contemplated calling my grandmother to inform her of the situation, but I didn't want to burden her. Drinking seemed like the only viable option to cope with my heartache.

Upon attempting to enter my vehicle, I retrieved my cellular device and proceeded to contact my acquaintance, Nicolas, who promptly answered my call.

"Nicolas, I require your presence today," I expressed through the phone, struggling to contain my emotions. It appears that my assumption that women possess any degree of differentiation was a foolish one, as they all seem to be ungrateful and petulant.

"Max, you sound quite distressed. What has occurred?" Nicolas inquired, to which I let out a sigh.

"Where are you located?" I inquired.

"Allow me to forward the address of my current location. Please exercise caution during your commute, as I can sense that you are not in a stable state," Nicolas advised, as he was well aware of my disposition, having been my childhood friend since infancy.

Upon receiving the address from Nicolas, I proceeded to the restaurant in question. As I exited my vehicle and began to make my way inside, I was suddenly met with the sound of a female voice screaming from behind me.

..

"Sir, please, please stop," she yelled. I looked back, only to see a young girl in dirty clothes, her face covered in mud, not to mention her dirty shoes. I wanted to walk away, but the desperation in her voice made me stop.

She ran towards me when I stopped, but she stood a few steps away from me. "Sir, please don't walk away. I know that you have so much money. Please help me save my mom. She is dying. Please, I beg you, to help me pay her hospital bill. I will be forever grateful to you if you can help a poor girl like me. I can wash your cars every day without even asking for payment, please sir." She went on her knees and folded her hands together.

Of all the people present, she had to choose me. What did she want? Did she want me to shout at her or something? How could I even be sure that she wasn't faking it? But, judging from the tone of her voice, I knew that she wouldn't lie about her mother. I know the agony of losing a mother due to insufficient funds to pay for hospital bills. I reluctantly decided to soften my heart and listen to her plea.

"How much do you need?" I asked her. She hastily wiped away her tears and pulled out some papers from her pocket. She quickly rose from the ground and handed me the papers, which had mud stains from her hand. Yuck! I loathed dirty things, but I took the papers from her anyway.

"Sir, I don't know how to read. Please see them yourself," she said. I perused the papers and realized that she was telling the truth. I walked back to my car, leaving her in the same spot. I opened my car and retrieved a pen. I signed the papers and deposited R10,000 to the hospital using my phone. When I finished, I walked back to her.

"I do not trust girls like you with the money. Therefore, I have deposited the funds to the hospital. Please take this form and deliver it to them," I handed the paper to her. "Next time, kindly take a bath before stopping me. I truly detest uncleanliness, especially when it comes to a girl. Your odour is quite unpleasant, and it is not suitable for a lady." I expressed my dissatisfaction and walked inside the restaurant.

   Priscilla's POV. 

After being informed by that man that he had deposited the money to the hospital, I couldn't care less about his impolite remarks. I had been imploring people for money to fund my mother's surgery, but no one was willing to lend a hand. I had lost all hope of saving my mother when I saw him stepping out of his car. I assumed he would berate me like everyone else, but to my surprise, he offered assistance. I sprinted to the hospital without wasting any time, as I had to ensure my mother's survival. I couldn't bear the thought of living without her. After running for 20 minutes, I stopped to catch my breath, my hands on my knees to prevent myself from collapsing. I had to keep running without wasting another moment, so I started running again. Finally, I arrived at the hospital, a 20-story building, the largest hospital in the area, where only the poor were admitted. I hurried to the reception.

"Hello Mrs.," I gasped, "I have deposited the money at the hospital. Has my mom's surgery started yet?"

"Your mom passed away 2 hours ago," the receptionist said, her voice heavy with sorrow. My lungs seized up, making it difficult to breathe. It felt as though time had come to a standstill. How could my mother leave me like this? How could I possibly go on living without her? This was impossible. I stumbled back a step, my hands covering my ears. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. My mother couldn't be gone. It just couldn't be.

"Please, get a hold of yourself, Mrs.," the receptionist said, her tone sympathetic. "I'm truly sorry that your mom is no more. Would you like for us to burn your mother or will you conduct a funeral for your mom?"

I realized then that she wasn't lying to me. My mom was gone. She was gone, and I was alone. My throat went dry. I couldn't cry or say anything. I felt so numb. This was the worst thing that could have happened.