"What are your plans now?" Patrick asked me. We were having drinks in his bar tonight. 

Patrick and I have been friends since college. We were classmates at Harvard. He was in the food and service business. He owned different bars and restaurants across the state. 

I poured some alcohol into my empty glass. 

"I won't allow my grandfather's assets to slip from my hands. Especially the company."

I'm Duke Everett Harding. I'm the rightful heir of Alexander Harding. Everything that he had left on this planet should just be rightfully passed down to me. No one deserved them but only me. 

Patrick raised his eyebrows at me. "So... you're really going to have a kid?" 

At the age of twenty-eight, I hadn't had any steady relationships. Women come and go in my life. 

Well, I don't believe in marriage, long-term relationships, and more so, in love. 

For me, love is just a piece of bullshit invented by people for capitalism. 

"I don't have a fucking choice," I muttered as I downed my third drink for tonight. Dammit. Just the thought of having my own kid was enough to give me goosebumps. 

I knew that fatherhood was not for me. I wanted to stay single for the rest of my life. But now... it was out of the equation.

Damn you, grandpa! 

"Well... you gotta move fast. You're given only fifteen months to procreate and bring your 'little Duke' to this world," Patrick said, grinning at my demise. 

I muttered another curse. And that's my problem now. I couldn't magically create a kid on my own, can I? 

And I only wanted a child, not a wife or a girlfriend. damn If only adopting a child could be an option. But it was clearly stated in my grandfather's will that the child must be carrying my blood. 

"How do you think I could do that, Patrick?" I sighed. 

Patrick gave me a weird look. "What the hell, Duke? Don't tell me you need a biology lesson on reproduction?" he joked. 

"Come on, you have lots of women who are at your disposal."

I shook my head. "Nah. That would only bring complications, Patrick. I only want a child. Not a wife. Not a relationship." 

Besides, most of the women I hooked up with were just like me. They didn't want serious relationships. I'm sure none of them wanted a child at this moment. 

"Oh, well... we are already in the technology age," Patrick said as he put dry ice on his drink. "You can opt for artificial insemination."

I winced. Artificial insemination? "I won't put my sperm in a fucking laboratory. I want my child to conceive in the natural way."

Patrick slightly raised the glass he was holding. "If that's what you want, then hire a baby maker!" 

My forehead creased. "Babymaker?" 

"You said you wanted your baby to produce naturally, right? Well, it's just like surrogate mothers; the only difference is that they agree to conceive the child in a natural way."

I looked at him with full interest. "And where could I find one?" 

"WHAT'S this?" I was browsing the latest Vogue magazine on my lap when Aunt Marina handed me her iPad. 

"Take a look," she said, picking up the magazine from my lap and tossing it on the center table. 

It's been a week since we arrived here in New York. We were staying at Aunt Marina's apartment in Manhattan. 

Brows furrowed, my eyes went to the iPad. My forehead creased in confusion when I saw what was on the screen. "Makemebabies.com?" I read aloud. 

"Duke Harding was looking for a babymaker."

"Babymaker?" I asked, even more confused. 

"He's looking for a woman who's willing to get laid on and bear his child." Aunt Marina explained as she took the single seater couch across from me. 

"Huh?" My frown deepened. "Duke Harding? Alexander's grandson?" 

"Read this, Olivia." 

Now, she handed me a white folder. I took it from her and opened it. It was a copy of Alexander Harding's last will and testament.

My eyes widened as they drifted back to her. "How did you get this?" I stared at her. "Where have you been?" 

She was wearing her favorite black dress and red heels. Aunt Marina was always dressed to kill. She was already in her mid-forties, but she didn't look like her age. In fact, people who didn't know us always mistook her as my elder sister. 

I thought she went shopping, but judging from what she handed me, it seemed like she went somewhere else. 

Aunt Marina smirked. "Connections, dear. I have a mole in the Harding Group of Companies."

Well, I knew she had been following Alexander Harding for years. That's how obsessed she is with the old man. 

My eyes went back to the document in the folder. It says there that Alexander Harding left all his assets to his grandson, Duke Everett Harding. But there was a catch. Duke would only get his inheritance if he managed to produce an heir within fifteen months since Alexander's death. 

If he fails to fulfill Alexander's provision, all of the old man's assets will go to the government. 

"What the..." My lips parted. "How could that old man do that to his only grandson?" 

"And that's how we're going to take everything from him."

I looked at my aunt Marina. A smirk was playing on her lips. 

My brows furrowed. "What do you mean, Aunt Marina?" 

"Like I said, Duke Harding is currently looking for a woman who would bear his child. In short, a babymaker."

She got the iPad from me. She manipulated the screen before showing it to me again. 

List of our agency's babymakers 

On the screen were different pictures of women. They all looked like they were in their early twenties to early thirties. 

"I said I'll be needing your help, right?" Aunt Marina turned to me. "I want you to make a profile there and apply to be Duke's babymaker."

"What the fuck, Aunt Marina?" I stood up from the couch. "Babymaker? You wanted that man to impregnate me?" 

"Sit down, Olivia. Listen first." 

She went to me and asked me to sit again. This time, she took the space beside me. 

"You'll apply as his babymaker, yes. It will involve sex with him. But you're not going to bear his baby, okay? You're going to fake your pregnancy."