I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 10

I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 10

The restaurant sat on the third floor of an old brownstone.

It had no sign at the door, required a keycode to enter, and booked out three months in advance.

I looked up the place earlier, and my jaw dropped when I saw the price.

Two thousand seven hundred dollars per person.

That was basically my half of the procedure.

A single dinner here cost everything I was asking for.

I took a deep breath.

Don’t let the numbers mess with your head, Josie.

I was here for a free meal-no, to collect a debt.

When I entered the private room, Grant Vance was already waiting.

He wasn’t in uniform today. He wore a dark grey button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

Okay, fine. He looked good.

But looking good didn’t change the $2,800 he owed me.

He stood up when he saw me.

“Sit.”

I sat.

The food was pre-ordered, and the waiter brought out dish after dish in a smooth, silent line.

I glanced at the spread-A5 Wagyu, truffle risotto, foie gras mousse, and molecular gastronomy desserts.

I’d only ever seen this stuff on TikTok.

I didn’t play shy. I picked up my fork and dug in.

God, it was delicious.

Grant didn’t touch his food. He just watched me eat.

His look was… hard to place.

Not disgust. Not judgment.

More like… study.

I chewed on a piece of Wagyu and mumbled, “You’re not eating?”

“In a moment,” he said. “Let’s talk business first.”

I put my fork down and wiped my mouth with a napkin.

“Go ahead.”

Grant fell silent for a few seconds before speaking.

“I want you to keep the baby.”

Expected. The bullet chat had already spoiled that one.

“Can’t,” I said. “I can’t afford them.”

“I’ll cover every expense,” he cut in.

“It’s not just about money, Mr. Vance.” I looked him in the eye. “I’m twenty-four. I’m unemployed, broke, and I don’t own a place. My parents work on a farm back in the Midwest. I can barely feed myself, and you want

me to raise twins?”

“You won’t have to raise them,” his voice stayed flat and even. “I’ll handle every cost from prenatal care to delivery. I’ll take full responsibility for their raising and education after they’re born.”

I frowned slightly.

“And what about me? I just turn into an incubator?”

I sounded harsh, but I needed absolute clarity.

Grant’s brow twitched.

“Not an incubator. You can set your terms.”

“Any terms?”

“Any.”

I stared at him.

His expression was dead serious. He wasn’t playing games.

Any terms. Fine.

I ran the numbers in my head.

“First. You cover my living expenses, rent, and medical bills for the entire pregnancy.”

He nodded.

“Second. A lump-sum settlement after delivery. Nothing crazy, just enough for me to get back on my feet and land a job.”

Another nod.

“Third-” I paused. “The kids are yours. I won’t fight for custody. But I want visitation rights whenever I want

to see them.”

Grant hesitated for a fraction of a second.

“Agreed.”

“And one more thing.” I held up a fourth finger. “Keep your mother away from me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“I’ll handle her.”

I thought for a second. That seemed to cover it.

“That’s about it. Get your lawyer to draft a contract-”

“Josie Miller.”

He used my full name.

I looked up.

“You don’t want a piece of the Vance estate?”