Just a woman who’d been destroyed by a man who didn’t deserve her.
A woman who’d kept going anyway.
I knew what it took to survive when the world tried to break you. I knew what it took to keep moving when everything you’d built got ripped away.
Truth Renois had that in her.
I could see it in the way she’d sat across from me, nervous but unbroken.
In the way she’d filled the silence because she couldn’t help it.
In the way she’d walked out of my office with her head high, even though I’d just told her I was infertile and needed her body to carry my legacy.
She hadn’t flinched.
She hadn’t judged.
She’d just asked if I wanted a child or an heir.
And when I told her I needed both—and somebody brave enough to know the difference—she’d looked at me like she understood exactly what I meant.
Because she did.
Truth Renois knew what it meant to fight for something that mattered.
She knew what it meant to survive.
And that made her exactly what I needed.
At 3:15 AM, I called Raymond.
He answered on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep. “This better be important.”
“Finalize the contract,” I said.
Silence.
Then, “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Truth Renois?”
“Truth Renois.”
I heard him moving, probably sitting up in bed, reaching for the lamp on his nightstand.
“I’ll have it ready by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll let you see it before I send it off. If you want anything specifically added, email or text me,” Raymond said. “Standard terms otherwise?”
“Standard terms. Two hundred fifty thousand. Fifty on confirmed pregnancy, fifty second trimester, fifty third trimester, one hundred on delivery. All medical covered. Security provided. Confidentiality absolute.”
“And if she wants to negotiate?”
“She won’t.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
