His Heir, Her Secret - Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Lucien
“Run it again. From the top.”
I stood at the head of the long conference table, the windows behind me flooding the room with pale morning light. The skyline was a sharp line of glass and ambition—unforgiving, unrelenting. Just like the war I was about to wage.
My legal team—five of the sharpest attorneys in New York, each of them handpicked by me—flipped through the dossiers and documents spread across the table. Every page had Damon’s name on it. Every page was a brick in the wall I was building to keep him far away from Isla and Leo.
A junior associate cleared her throat and began again. “Damon Creed has no record of legal infractions—”
“Public ones,” I corrected coldly. “Let’s not pretend the absence of evidence is the evidence of absence.”
She flinched but nodded.
Another lawyer, Myra—older, sharper, and too seasoned to be intimidated by my interruptions—tapped a file. “But this,” she said, “is our strongest angle. The old restraining order Isla filed back in college. It was dismissed due to lack of cooperation, but if we can prove coercion or fear at the time—”
“We can establish a pattern,” I said. “And credibility.”
“Yes.” She met my gaze evenly. “But it hinges on Isla’s testimony. If she’s not willing to go there—”
“She will,” I said quietly. “She already has.”
There was a flicker of surprise around the table. Good. Let them be surprised. Let them understand that this isn’t just a custody case. This is a man fighting for his family. My son. The woman I should’ve never let go. And I wasn’t going to play nice.
“Have we tracked the woman he dated after Isla? The one who vanished off the radar two years ago?”
My head of security, Grant, nodded. “Still digging. She changed her name. Moved to New Hampshire. But we have a line on her. Quiet settlement, possibly under duress. If she talks…”
“If she talks,” I repeated, “we bury him.”
It wasn’t just strategy anymore. This was personal.
Myra sighed and closed her folder. “You understand, Lucien, this could get messy. This could mean press. Headlines. You coming forward now, claiming paternity—there will be backlash. From investors, from partners, from the board—”
“Let them talk,” I said. “Let them speculate.”
“Some may say this is emotional. That you’re being reckless.”
“I am emotional.” I looked around the table. “That boy is my son. I didn’t know for four years, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that. If any of you think this is about ego or optics, you can walk out now.”
No one moved.
“Good,” I muttered. “Because I’m not fighting just to win. I’m fighting to end this.”
There was a pause. Then Myra leaned forward.
“We’ll start drafting a petition for emergency custody based on the threat Damon poses to Leo’s safety. We’ll need Isla’s sworn affidavit detailing past abuse and threats. If she’s willing to testify, it’ll bolster our motion. I suggest filing within forty-eight hours. The sooner we strike, the less time he has to build a counter-narrative.”
I nodded. “Do it.”
As they started collecting papers and exiting in small groups, I stayed behind, staring at the city below like it owed me something.
Because in a way, it did.
This city had taken so much from me. My peace. My youth. Isla. And now, years later, it tried to take my son before I ever had a chance to be his father.
Not this time.
“You okay?”
I turned. Grant had lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, watching me.
“Do I look okay?”
“No,” he said bluntly. “You look like a man holding back fire.”
I gave a short laugh. “Probably because I am.”
He walked in, lowered his voice. “There’s something else. Damon’s lawyer sent over a request. He’s demanding visitation. Temporary access until the hearing.”
My hands clenched into fists.
“He thinks he can take him,” I said under my breath. “He thinks Leo’s just another pawn.”
“You want me to handle it?”
“No.” I looked him in the eye. “Tell them if Damon gets within one hundred feet of Isla or Leo, I’ll take legal action and personal action.”
Grant smirked. “Understood.”
He left, and I sank into the leather chair at the head of the table, exhaustion creeping in at the edges. I hadn’t slept in two days. Not properly. Not since that night Isla told me everything.
Everything I should’ve known years ago.
I hated that I wasn’t there. Hated that she faced Damon alone. That she ran with our child and lived in the shadows while I sat in boardrooms pretending I had nothing left to lose.
But I did.
I lost them once. I wasn’t going to do it again.
My phone buzzed. A message from Isla.
Leo’s asking if you’re coming back tonight.
I stared at the screen, heart twisting.
I typed back: Tell him yes. And tell him I love him.
She replied a minute later.
He says he loves you too. And so do I.
I leaned back, my throat tight.
She said it like it wasn’t a big deal. Like we hadn’t both been to hell and back. Like love wasn’t the most dangerous and beautiful thing either of us had ever touched.
And still—she said it.
And still—I believed her.
Because no matter how this ended, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
I would fight for my family.
And I would burn the world down before I let Damon take them from me.