His Heir, Her Secret - Chapter 33: Chapter 33
You are reading His Heir, Her Secret, Chapter 33: Chapter 33. Read more chapters of His Heir, Her Secret.
Isla
I couldn’t sleep.
Lucien’s apartment was too quiet, too pristine—like the calm before a storm. I lay on my side in the dark, watching the outline of Leo’s tiny body as he breathed steadily beside me. He’d insisted on sleeping in my bed tonight, his fingers curled tightly into my t-shirt, like he knew, somehow, that the world outside wasn’t safe.
I stroked his curls gently and closed my eyes.
But every time I tried to drift off, Damon’s voice echoed through my head. “He’s mine too, Isla.”
My stomach turned. I hated how the words sounded coming from his mouth. Twisted. Possessive. Like Leo was a thing—something he could lay claim to just because of DNA. He wasn’t a father. Not in any way that mattered. But the law? The law might see it differently. And that’s what scared me most.
I sat up, quietly slipped out of bed, and padded into the kitchen. The city lights cast a soft glow across Lucien’s marble countertops, and the clock on the stove blinked 2:14 a.m.
I poured myself a glass of water and stared out the massive window that overlooked Manhattan. From up here, the world looked manageable. Clean. But that was an illusion.
My hands trembled as I set the glass down. I didn’t know how to do this. I had spent so many years running—from my mistakes, from the guilt, from Damon—and now I had nowhere left to hide.
And yet… I wasn’t alone anymore.
The thought brought me back to earlier tonight. The look in Lucien’s eyes when I told him what Damon had done. Not just the threats, but the fear I’d carried for years. The way he’d listened. Not interrupted. Not judged. Just listened.
Then he acted.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. He moved like a man who’d been waiting his whole life to protect something—or someone—and now that he had a reason, he was unstoppable.
I leaned against the counter and let the weight of everything settle into me.
This wasn’t just about Leo anymore.
It was about me. About standing up to the version of myself I used to be—the girl who stayed silent, who swallowed pain, who let people like Damon write her story. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I couldn’t afford to be. Not when my son’s future was hanging in the balance.
I turned at the sound of soft footsteps.
Lucien stood in the hallway, barefoot, his dark hair tousled from sleep. He wore only a pair of sweatpants, and in the dim light, he looked more like a man than a mogul. Just a man. Tired. Protective. Mine—at least for now.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, even though it wasn’t true. “Just… thinking.”
He walked over to me, his movements slow, careful. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” I whispered. “But I probably should.”
He leaned against the counter beside me and waited. Just waited. No pressure, no expectations.
“I used to have this fantasy,” I said quietly. “That one day, Damon would just disappear. Like—poof—vanish off the face of the earth. And I’d never have to tell Leo about him. Never have to say his name. He’d just be a bad dream I eventually forgot.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
“But now he’s here,” I continued. “And I’m scared, Lucien. I’m scared I waited too long. That because I kept Leo hidden… I gave Damon room to swoop in and twist the story in his favor.”
“You protected Leo,” Lucien said firmly. “You did what you had to do. Don’t rewrite the past just because he’s trying to weaponize it.”
“But what if the court doesn’t see it that way? What if—”
“Then we fight harder.” He turned to face me fully, reaching for my hand. “I’m not going to let him touch our son. And I won’t let you go through this alone.”
Our son.
The words struck deep. A month ago, I hadn’t even told Lucien he had a child. And now here he was—calling Leo ours, and fighting like a man with everything to lose.
“I wish I was more like you,” I said.
He smiled faintly. “You mean powerful? Obsessive? Ruthless?”
I chuckled. “I meant brave.”
Lucien’s smile faded, replaced with something softer. “You left a man who scared you. You raised Leo on your own. You told me the truth even though you thought it would cost you everything. If that’s not brave, I don’t know what is.”
The tears I’d been holding back all night finally broke through. I hated crying. It made me feel exposed, like everything I worked to contain was suddenly spilling into the open. But Lucien didn’t flinch. He just pulled me into his arms and let me fall apart.
We stayed like that for a long time—his arms around me, my face pressed to his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding me.
Eventually, I pulled back and wiped my eyes. “What if the hearing goes badly?”
“Then we appeal. We bring in every lawyer money can buy. We drag Damon’s skeletons into the light until there’s nothing left of his story but dust.”
I stared at him. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
There was a fire in his eyes now. Not rage. Resolve.
And for the first time in days, I felt something close to hope.
I nodded, slowly. “Then let’s win this.”
I couldn’t sleep.
Lucien’s apartment was too quiet, too pristine—like the calm before a storm. I lay on my side in the dark, watching the outline of Leo’s tiny body as he breathed steadily beside me. He’d insisted on sleeping in my bed tonight, his fingers curled tightly into my t-shirt, like he knew, somehow, that the world outside wasn’t safe.
I stroked his curls gently and closed my eyes.
But every time I tried to drift off, Damon’s voice echoed through my head. “He’s mine too, Isla.”
My stomach turned. I hated how the words sounded coming from his mouth. Twisted. Possessive. Like Leo was a thing—something he could lay claim to just because of DNA. He wasn’t a father. Not in any way that mattered. But the law? The law might see it differently. And that’s what scared me most.
I sat up, quietly slipped out of bed, and padded into the kitchen. The city lights cast a soft glow across Lucien’s marble countertops, and the clock on the stove blinked 2:14 a.m.
I poured myself a glass of water and stared out the massive window that overlooked Manhattan. From up here, the world looked manageable. Clean. But that was an illusion.
My hands trembled as I set the glass down. I didn’t know how to do this. I had spent so many years running—from my mistakes, from the guilt, from Damon—and now I had nowhere left to hide.
And yet… I wasn’t alone anymore.
The thought brought me back to earlier tonight. The look in Lucien’s eyes when I told him what Damon had done. Not just the threats, but the fear I’d carried for years. The way he’d listened. Not interrupted. Not judged. Just listened.
Then he acted.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. He moved like a man who’d been waiting his whole life to protect something—or someone—and now that he had a reason, he was unstoppable.
I leaned against the counter and let the weight of everything settle into me.
This wasn’t just about Leo anymore.
It was about me. About standing up to the version of myself I used to be—the girl who stayed silent, who swallowed pain, who let people like Damon write her story. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I couldn’t afford to be. Not when my son’s future was hanging in the balance.
I turned at the sound of soft footsteps.
Lucien stood in the hallway, barefoot, his dark hair tousled from sleep. He wore only a pair of sweatpants, and in the dim light, he looked more like a man than a mogul. Just a man. Tired. Protective. Mine—at least for now.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, even though it wasn’t true. “Just… thinking.”
He walked over to me, his movements slow, careful. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” I whispered. “But I probably should.”
He leaned against the counter beside me and waited. Just waited. No pressure, no expectations.
“I used to have this fantasy,” I said quietly. “That one day, Damon would just disappear. Like—poof—vanish off the face of the earth. And I’d never have to tell Leo about him. Never have to say his name. He’d just be a bad dream I eventually forgot.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
“But now he’s here,” I continued. “And I’m scared, Lucien. I’m scared I waited too long. That because I kept Leo hidden… I gave Damon room to swoop in and twist the story in his favor.”
“You protected Leo,” Lucien said firmly. “You did what you had to do. Don’t rewrite the past just because he’s trying to weaponize it.”
“But what if the court doesn’t see it that way? What if—”
“Then we fight harder.” He turned to face me fully, reaching for my hand. “I’m not going to let him touch our son. And I won’t let you go through this alone.”
Our son.
The words struck deep. A month ago, I hadn’t even told Lucien he had a child. And now here he was—calling Leo ours, and fighting like a man with everything to lose.
“I wish I was more like you,” I said.
He smiled faintly. “You mean powerful? Obsessive? Ruthless?”
I chuckled. “I meant brave.”
Lucien’s smile faded, replaced with something softer. “You left a man who scared you. You raised Leo on your own. You told me the truth even though you thought it would cost you everything. If that’s not brave, I don’t know what is.”
The tears I’d been holding back all night finally broke through. I hated crying. It made me feel exposed, like everything I worked to contain was suddenly spilling into the open. But Lucien didn’t flinch. He just pulled me into his arms and let me fall apart.
We stayed like that for a long time—his arms around me, my face pressed to his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding me.
Eventually, I pulled back and wiped my eyes. “What if the hearing goes badly?”
“Then we appeal. We bring in every lawyer money can buy. We drag Damon’s skeletons into the light until there’s nothing left of his story but dust.”
I stared at him. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
There was a fire in his eyes now. Not rage. Resolve.
And for the first time in days, I felt something close to hope.
I nodded, slowly. “Then let’s win this.”
End of His Heir, Her Secret Chapter 33. Continue reading Chapter 34 or return to His Heir, Her Secret book page.