His Heir, Her Secret - Chapter 28: Chapter 28
You are reading His Heir, Her Secret, Chapter 28: Chapter 28. Read more chapters of His Heir, Her Secret.
Isla
For a brief, golden moment, I thought we were finally safe.
Leo was asleep in his new room, his little hand curled around the sleeve of his favorite dinosaur pajamas. Lucien stood in the doorway watching him, his expression soft in a way that made my chest ache. He’d been different since the gala—more open, more reckless with his heart. And somehow, impossibly, that made me love him more and trust him less at the same time.
I wasn’t used to peace. It always meant something was about to break.
By morning, I was right.
It started with a letter. A plain white envelope slid under the front door, addressed only to me.
No postage. No return address.
Just my name, in handwriting I hadn’t seen in years.
I stared at it for a full minute, heartbeat skittering like a bird trapped in my ribs. I didn’t touch it—not at first. Instead, I sat on the edge of the couch and reminded myself of the life I had now. The son sleeping down the hall. The man who had finally stepped into fatherhood with both feet. The woman I’d fought to become.
And then I opened it.
No greeting. No signature. Just one sentence scrawled across the center of the page in that same cruel script.
“You think he can protect you now?”
I read it three times before I let myself react.
The tremble started in my fingers, traveled up my arms, and settled deep in my chest. My vision blurred. Not from tears—there weren’t any. Not yet. Just that old familiar haze of fear I thought I’d left behind the night I ran from all of it.
But fear like that never truly dies. It waits.
Lucien found me minutes later, still clutching the letter like a lifeline and a curse. He took one look at my face and crossed the room in seconds.
“What happened?” he asked, voice low and sharp.
I handed him the note without speaking. Watched his expression darken as he read it.
“Who sent this?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” I lied. But I did. God help me, I did.
He turned the envelope over, checking for prints, traces—anything. “It wasn’t mailed. Someone hand-delivered it. Here. Inside this building.”
The implication sank like a stone.
Whoever had written it had gotten past security. Past our doorman. Past everything Lucien had put in place to keep us safe.
“I’ll review the cameras,” he muttered, already pulling out his phone. “No one gets near this place without me knowing who they are.”
“Lucien,” I said quietly, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
He looked up, eyes sharp. “What is it?”
I hesitated. My mouth opened and closed. The words jammed in my throat like thorns.
Because how do you explain that your past isn’t just a story—it’s a threat still alive and walking?
“Back in Chicago,” I began, “before Leo… there was someone. Someone I got involved with. Not romantically, not really. He said he was helping me. Said he cared. But it was all a game to him. Control. Power.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened.
“He started with small things,” I continued. “Helping me with rent. Offering to ‘manage’ my money. I was young and desperate, and he made it easy to lean on him. But when I tried to leave—tried to cut ties—he didn’t take it well.”
Lucien stepped closer. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not physically. Not then. But he threatened me. Said if I ever turned my back on him, I’d regret it. That no one would believe me if I said he was dangerous.”
“And now he’s found you again,” Lucien said coldly.
“I don’t know how,” I whispered. “I changed everything. My name. My number. I moved cities. I built a life from the ground up.”
“And he still got to you.”
I nodded.
Lucien’s hands curled into fists. “He won’t again.”
“I don’t want Leo near this,” I said. “Whatever happens, he can’t be involved. I won’t let him be afraid.”
Lucien looked me dead in the eye. “Then we fight this. Together.”
For once, I didn’t flinch. I didn’t argue. I just nodded.
Because somewhere deep down, I knew this wasn’t just about a man from my past coming back to scare me.
It was about testing what Lucien and I had become. Testing whether the fragile bridge we’d built could survive something real. Something dangerous.
That night, we doubled security. Lucien had two of his men posted on every exit, installed motion sensors on the balcony, and insisted I carry a panic button wherever I went.
“I’m not letting you or Leo out of my sight,” he said as we crawled into bed. “Not until I know who this is and what they want.”
But I already knew what he wanted.
Power. Control. Fear.
He wanted me afraid again.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Because for the first time in a long, long time, I had something to lose.
For a brief, golden moment, I thought we were finally safe.
Leo was asleep in his new room, his little hand curled around the sleeve of his favorite dinosaur pajamas. Lucien stood in the doorway watching him, his expression soft in a way that made my chest ache. He’d been different since the gala—more open, more reckless with his heart. And somehow, impossibly, that made me love him more and trust him less at the same time.
I wasn’t used to peace. It always meant something was about to break.
By morning, I was right.
It started with a letter. A plain white envelope slid under the front door, addressed only to me.
No postage. No return address.
Just my name, in handwriting I hadn’t seen in years.
I stared at it for a full minute, heartbeat skittering like a bird trapped in my ribs. I didn’t touch it—not at first. Instead, I sat on the edge of the couch and reminded myself of the life I had now. The son sleeping down the hall. The man who had finally stepped into fatherhood with both feet. The woman I’d fought to become.
And then I opened it.
No greeting. No signature. Just one sentence scrawled across the center of the page in that same cruel script.
“You think he can protect you now?”
I read it three times before I let myself react.
The tremble started in my fingers, traveled up my arms, and settled deep in my chest. My vision blurred. Not from tears—there weren’t any. Not yet. Just that old familiar haze of fear I thought I’d left behind the night I ran from all of it.
But fear like that never truly dies. It waits.
Lucien found me minutes later, still clutching the letter like a lifeline and a curse. He took one look at my face and crossed the room in seconds.
“What happened?” he asked, voice low and sharp.
I handed him the note without speaking. Watched his expression darken as he read it.
“Who sent this?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” I lied. But I did. God help me, I did.
He turned the envelope over, checking for prints, traces—anything. “It wasn’t mailed. Someone hand-delivered it. Here. Inside this building.”
The implication sank like a stone.
Whoever had written it had gotten past security. Past our doorman. Past everything Lucien had put in place to keep us safe.
“I’ll review the cameras,” he muttered, already pulling out his phone. “No one gets near this place without me knowing who they are.”
“Lucien,” I said quietly, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
He looked up, eyes sharp. “What is it?”
I hesitated. My mouth opened and closed. The words jammed in my throat like thorns.
Because how do you explain that your past isn’t just a story—it’s a threat still alive and walking?
“Back in Chicago,” I began, “before Leo… there was someone. Someone I got involved with. Not romantically, not really. He said he was helping me. Said he cared. But it was all a game to him. Control. Power.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened.
“He started with small things,” I continued. “Helping me with rent. Offering to ‘manage’ my money. I was young and desperate, and he made it easy to lean on him. But when I tried to leave—tried to cut ties—he didn’t take it well.”
Lucien stepped closer. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not physically. Not then. But he threatened me. Said if I ever turned my back on him, I’d regret it. That no one would believe me if I said he was dangerous.”
“And now he’s found you again,” Lucien said coldly.
“I don’t know how,” I whispered. “I changed everything. My name. My number. I moved cities. I built a life from the ground up.”
“And he still got to you.”
I nodded.
Lucien’s hands curled into fists. “He won’t again.”
“I don’t want Leo near this,” I said. “Whatever happens, he can’t be involved. I won’t let him be afraid.”
Lucien looked me dead in the eye. “Then we fight this. Together.”
For once, I didn’t flinch. I didn’t argue. I just nodded.
Because somewhere deep down, I knew this wasn’t just about a man from my past coming back to scare me.
It was about testing what Lucien and I had become. Testing whether the fragile bridge we’d built could survive something real. Something dangerous.
That night, we doubled security. Lucien had two of his men posted on every exit, installed motion sensors on the balcony, and insisted I carry a panic button wherever I went.
“I’m not letting you or Leo out of my sight,” he said as we crawled into bed. “Not until I know who this is and what they want.”
But I already knew what he wanted.
Power. Control. Fear.
He wanted me afraid again.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Because for the first time in a long, long time, I had something to lose.
End of His Heir, Her Secret Chapter 28. Continue reading Chapter 29 or return to His Heir, Her Secret book page.