Page 54 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

“Yes.”

“And you were told this pregnancy was the result of a surrogacy arrangement through a fertility clinic?”

“New Beginnings Fertility Center,” I said quietly. “It’s owned by the Landry family.”

Dr. Broussard’s expression didn’t change, but I saw something flicker in her eyes. Recognition, maybe. Or concern.

“And you’ve since discovered that the circumstances surrounding the implantation were… unusual?”

“That’s putting it lightly.” My voice cracked, and I hated how weak I sounded. “I found out that two different men’s sperm were used. Without my knowledge. Without my consent.”

Dr. Broussard’s jaw tightened. “That’s a serious violation, Ms. Renois. Both medically and legally.”

“I know.”

“Have you contacted an attorney?”

“Yes. She’s the one who got me the fertility records.” I pulled the thick manila envelope from my purse and handed it to her. “Everything’s in there. The contract. The procedure notes. The lab reports.”

Dr. Broussard took the envelope and opened it, her eyes scanning the documents with the precision of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for.

After a long moment, she looked up.

“This is highly irregular,” she said carefully. “Dual implantation with separate specimens is not standard practice. And the fact that it was done without your explicit, informed consent…” She shook her head. “This clinic should be investigated.”

“I just want to know if my babies are okay,” I said, my voice breaking. “That’s all I care about right now.”

Dr. Broussard’s expression softened. “Then let’s find out.”

She stood and moved to the ultrasound machine, powering it on. The screen flickered to life, casting a soft blue glow across the room.

“Go ahead and lie back,” she said gently. “This won’t take long.”

I shifted on the table, the paper crinkling again, and lay back. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Dr. Broussard lifted my shirt, exposing my stomach, and squeezed a generous amount of gel onto my skin. It was cold, and I flinched.

“Sorry about that,” she murmured.

She pressed the transducer against my abdomen and moved it slowly, her eyes fixed on the screen.

I turned my head to look.

And there they were.

Two tiny shapes, curled together in the darkness of my womb. Two flickering heartbeats, strong and steady.

My breath caught.

“There’s Baby A,” Dr. Broussard said, pointing to the screen. “And there’s Baby B. Both are measuring appropriately for gestational age. Heartbeats are strong—160 and 158 beats per minute. Placental positioning looks good. No signs of distress.”

Tears blurred my vision.

They were okay.

They were real.

“They’re healthy?” I whispered.