Three Years Behind Bars The Billionaire's Surrogate SecretChapter 1

I loved Hudson Farley for ten years.

At eighteen, Hudson sponsored my way through college. I gave him my first time.

At twenty, I hid in the crowd and watched Hudson and Aria Fox's engagement ceremony.

That night, Hudson climbed into my bed and held me from behind. "Thelma Pruitt, once I take control of the Farley family, I'll call off the engagement and marry you."

At twenty-three, I gave birth to twins and handed them over to Aria to raise.

The first time I heard my own children—the babies I'd carried for nine months—call Aria "Mama," I cried the entire night.

At twenty-eight, Aria killed someone in a hit-and-run.

Hudson came to me, his expression strained. "Thelma, Colton and Willa can't grow up without a mother."

"Aria's already agreed. You take her place in prison, and she'll annul the marriage."

"The kids and I will be waiting for you when you get out."

I stared at the man I'd loved for a decade and realized, with a jolt of clarity, that this was the closest Hudson Farley had ever come to making me a promise.

I nodded. Said one word.

"Okay."

...

"Tomorrow I'll drive you to turn yourself in. Don't worry, I've already taken care of everything."

Hudson exhaled with visible relief, stood, and hurried toward the door.

"Colton's been fussing for his mom and dad to eat dinner with him. I need to get back."

"Thelma, I love you."

I sat where I was, watching his retreating figure until it disappeared, and sank into thought.

I'd walked out of a small mountain town on my own. Earned my way into Weston University on merit alone.

I was supposed to have a bright future. Instead, I'd become Hudson Farley's caged bird.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in years.

"That promise you made ten years ago—does it still stand?"

"Of course."

A deep voice came through the line. "Three days from now, no matter where you are, I'll come for you."

After I hung up, my first instinct was to pack.

But then it hit me: I was about to go to prison. What was there to pack?

I sat motionless on the couch all night. When dawn came, I picked up a pair of scissors and cut my waist-length hair short.

Hudson had once mentioned, offhand, that he loved my long hair. So I'd kept it that way for ten years.

Now, that love fell away with every strand.