His Heir, Her Secret - Chapter 32: Chapter 32

Lucien
There are moments in a man’s life that sharpen him into something unrecognizable.
Watching Isla shrink back from Damon’s grip—that was mine.
I had known rage before. In boardrooms. In betrayal. In loss. But this—this was something far more primal. It hit me in the gut, then flared through my chest like fire licking bone.
He touched her.
He threatened my son.
And he smiled while doing it.
I didn’t wait for him to reach the end of the driveway before I turned to Marco. “I want him followed. Twenty-four-seven. I want to know where he eats, who he calls, what his lawyer had for breakfast. If he so much as breathes in Leo’s direction again—”
“He’ll choke on it,” Marco finished, already dialing.
I looked back at Isla. Her eyes were wide, her posture taut. But she hadn’t crumbled—not even when Damon made that disgusting claim about custody. She stood there like a lioness guarding her cub, and I swear I fell harder in that moment than I did when I first saw her again in Venice.
I stepped toward her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, slowly. “No. But I will be.”
I brushed a hand down her arm. “You don’t have to be strong for me. You can break if you need to.”
She looked up at me then, those eyes like glass over stormwater. “I can’t afford to break. Not when he’s coming after Leo.”
My jaw flexed. “He won’t get the chance.”
We stepped back inside, and Leo looked up from the kitchen stool with a big, messy grin. “Daddy! Strawberries!”
That single word. Daddy. That’s what Damon was trying to use like a weapon. He thought he could twist it, lay legal claim to what was never his.
But I wouldn’t let him.
Isla and I put Leo to bed early that night. He was all giggles and bedtime stories, blissfully unaware that the world outside his window had changed. That a man like Damon had resurfaced with darkness in his veins and a smile made of venom.
Once Leo was asleep, Isla curled up on the edge of my bed, arms wrapped tightly around her knees.
I brought her a glass of water and sat beside her. “I’ve already made calls.”
She looked at me warily. “What kind of calls?”
“The kind that remind people who I am,” I said. “And what happens when someone threatens my family.”
“Lucien…”
“I’m not going to let him take this to court,” I continued. “I’ve called Katherine—my top attorney in New York. She’s already building a case. Not just for custody—but for a restraining order. I’ve got private investigators pulling up Damon’s records, financials, associates. We’ll find something.”
She leaned her head against my shoulder. “And if we don’t?”
“Then I’ll buy every judge between here and the Supreme Court if I have to.”
She laughed softly, but there was no joy in it. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not. But nothing that matters ever is.”
We sat in silence for a long time, just listening to the faint hum of the city beyond the glass.
Then she said something that hollowed me out.
“I spent years afraid of him. Not because of what he’d do to me—but because I thought no one would ever believe me.”
I looked at her, feeling something fracture inside me.
“But I believe you,” I said.
She nodded, slowly. “I know. And that’s what terrifies him.”
A knock sounded on the bedroom door. It was Marco.
“Sir,” he said carefully. “We’ve got something.”
I stood. “What is it?”
“Damon’s legal team filed a motion. He’s pushing for an emergency hearing. Two days from now. He’s trying to force your hand before you can retaliate.”
Isla’s face went pale.
“Noted,” I said tightly. “Double our security. No one gets within twenty feet of the house without clearance.”
Marco nodded and left.
When I turned back to Isla, I saw the same fire in her I felt in myself.
“He’s playing with fire,” she whispered.
I reached for her hand. “And he’s about to get burned.”