2. First Meeting
Sophia's POV
My heart skips a beat as I read the email notifying me of my acceptance into the first round of the surrogacy program. The timing can't be more perfect, given my recent job loss and my father's mounting medical expenses. Hope surges within me, overpowering the sting of the slap I received at work.
I quickly compose myself, wiping away the tears that gather in my eyes, and hail a cab to embark on my journey to the luxurious estate.
As the cab pulls up to the imposing gate, I can't help but marvel at the grandeur before me. The estate is like something out of a fairytale—a sprawling mansion surrounded by manicured gardens, tall hedges, and glistening fountains. It exudes an air of elegance and privilege that I have never experienced before.
Exiting the cab, I smooth my clothes, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. This is uncharted territory for me, and I can't help but wonder what lies beyond those gates. Will I be able to fulfill the expectations of the clients? What kind of people are they?
Taking a deep breath, I approach the guard stationed at the gate. He stands tall, clad in a crisp uniform, his gaze sharp and observant. I greet him politely, hoping he can provide me with the necessary directions to meet the clients.
"Excuse me, sir," I begin, my voice filled with a touch of anxiety. "I have an appointment with a client here."
"Hello, miss," the guard responds, his attention now on me. "May I have your pass?"
"A pass?" I am surprised as I have not received any pass, and the email only contains the address of the house. "I understand, but I don't have a pass. Is there any way I can gain entry?"
The guard eyes me for a moment, his expression stern. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't allow anyone without a pass onto the premises. It's a matter of security and privacy."
My heart sinks, the weight of disappointment settling upon my shoulders. I have come so far, only to be stopped at the gate. But I can't let this setback deter me. I have to find a solution.
In a last-ditch effort, I decide to give the phone number I have been provided a call. Perhaps there has been a mistake, or someone will be able to assist me in gaining entry. I dial the number, my hopes flickering as I wait for a response.
To my dismay, the call goes unanswered. I sigh, feeling a pang of worry. It seems as though luck is not on my side today.
Just as I am about to give up and consider my next move, a sleek, black car pulls up to the gate, capturing both my attention and that of the guard. The window glides down, revealing the occupant inside, and my eyes widen in surprise.
The guard immediately straightens up, his demeanor transforming from stern to one of utmost respect. With a salute, he greets the person in the car. "Welcome, Mr. Williams."
I instinctively turn my gaze toward the car, curiosity and intrigue taking hold of me. Who is this Mr. Williams, and why does the guard's demeanor change so drastically in his presence?
As the car window lowers, my eyes lock with those of the person inside. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. I find myself captivated by the piercing gaze that meets mine, a gaze that holds a hint of recognition.
In that instant, I notice a subtle pause in the person's expression before the driver accelerates and the car glides away, disappearing within the estate's grounds.
Confusion swirls within my mind. There is something familiar about the
gaze that met mine, something that stirs a sense of curiosity and intrigue. Who is that person?
But it is the least of my concerns at this moment as I try to call the number again to no avail.
My heart sinks as the guard, seemingly unmoved by my plight, steps forward and requests me to leave the premises. Disappointment and frustration well up within me, but I know causing a scene will only worsen the situation. Reluctantly, I turn to leave, my dreams of a new opportunity slipping away.
However, just as I reach the gate, a sleek car emerges from the estate, its windows rolling down to reveal a young man inside. He has a friendly smile and an air of confidence as he steps out of the vehicle and approaches me.
With a mix of surprise and cautious hope, I watch as he comes closer and speaks in a warm voice. "Are you Sophia? I'm here to pick you up."
My eyes widen, and a rush of excitement floods my veins. This turn of events is unexpected, but it offers a glimmer of hope. I can't help but wonder who this young man is and why he was sent to find me. Is he connected to the surrogacy program?
"Yes, I'm Sophia," I reply, a mixture of curiosity and happiness lacing my words. "But who are you? And why are you here to pick me up?"
The young man's smile widens as he extends a hand in greeting. "I apologize for the confusion. My name is Ethan. I'm the assistant to the client you're here to meet."
My surprise grows, but a sense of relief washes over me. It seems that fate has intervened to provide me with an unexpected ally. I shake Ethan's hand, a grateful smile on my face. "Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate your help. I wasn't expecting this, but I'm glad you're here."
Ethan nods and opens the door of the car for me. "Please, come in. Let's get you inside the estate."
Eagerly, I step into the car, the soft leather seats embracing me. As the vehicle makes its way through the estate's grounds, I can't help but feel nervous about what I am about to do.
The car pulls up to the entrance of a magnificent mansion, its grandeur rivaling the estates I have seen before. I take a moment to absorb my surroundings, feeling a mixture of awe and nervous anticipation.
Ethan leads me up the sweeping staircase, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. The marble beneath our feet is cool and polished, reflecting the soft glow of the crystal chandeliers above. The walls are adorned with exquisite paintings, their vibrant colors adding a touch of life to the opulent surroundings.
As we ascend, the sound of our footsteps echoes through the vast hallway. My eyes dart from one detail to another, marveling at the intricate architecture and the sense of history that lingers in every corner.
At the top of the staircase, we are greeted by a middle-aged woman, the housekeeper. Her warm smile and gentle demeanor immediately put me at ease.
"Welcome, dear. I've been informed of your arrival," the housekeeper says kindly, her voice carrying a soothing tone. "Please, have a seat."
I nod, taking a seat on a plush chair near the staircase. Ethan gives me an assuring smile before excusing himself, promising to relay my presence to his boss.
Left alone with the housekeeper, I can't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. The housekeeper seems to notice this too as she says, "Don't be nervous, miss. You can relax."
"Ah... I'm not..."
The housekeeper, however
, smiles knowingly and asks, "What would you like me to serve you with?"
I am taken aback but instantly shake my head. "No need, ma'am. Thank you."
The woman, however, shakes her head and says, "You can't not have anything. Let me get you a glass of water at least."
I try to decline the offer, not wanting to trouble the housekeeper further, but her persuasive tone and warm smile convince me otherwise. "Thank you, that would be very kind."
The housekeeper nods and excuses herself, disappearing down the hallway to fetch the water. Left alone once again, I take the opportunity to survey my surroundings. The grand mansion exudes an air of old-world charm, with its antique furniture, intricate tapestries, and polished hardwood floors. Each room seems to have its own story to tell, and I find myself captivated by the tales that resonate within the walls.
A moment later, a servant about my age steps out with a tray and a glass of water in her hand. She walks to me and hands it to me, saying, "Have some water, miss."
"Thank you," I reply with a smile as the servant turns and leaves.
Caught up in staring around the lounge, I don't immediately notice the pair of eyes staring at me from the staircase. When I finally do, I look in that direction and see a tall masculine figure standing there.
I am instantly taken aback the moment my gaze falls on that face. A myriad of emotions pass through my face at that moment. It is the man I saw earlier at the gate, the one the guard called Mr. Williams.