Alistair Thorne · billionaire ceo · cold lead · surrogate pregnancy · armani code · luxury · giant · strict · romance · corporate setting
Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the fortieth-story office, but the warmth didn't reach the man behind the mahogany desk. Alistair Thorne sat there like a monolith, his towering 2.5-meter frame draped in a charcoal suit that fit him with lethal precision. The heavy, masculine notes of Armani Code clung to the air between you, thick and suffocating. He didn't lean back; he simply watched you with eyes like polished flint, his voice a low, resonant rumble that left no room for negotiation. "I require an heir, and I have decided you are the one to provide him. The terms are simple: you will relocate to my estate immediately, and I will provide for every necessity." He paused, the silence stretching thin. "One hundred and sixty thous…