His Heir, Her Secret - Chapter 37: Chapter 37
You are reading His Heir, Her Secret, Chapter 37: Chapter 37. Read more chapters of His Heir, Her Secret.
Isla
The world changed overnight.
One moment, we were shadows moving quietly, surviving. The next, we were everywhere.
Lucien’s press release dropped at 7:00 a.m. sharp. It was simple, elegant, and explosive.
Lucien Wolfe, CEO of Wolfe International, confirms paternity of his son, Leo Monroe, and rekindled relationship with former partner Isla Monroe. In a statement, Mr. Wolfe shared, “My family is no longer a secret. They are the best part of my life—and I intend to protect and love them, publicly and permanently.”
Within minutes, my phone lit up like a Christmas tree. Missed calls. Messages. Emails. I hadn’t seen this much digital chaos since Leo was born.
I turned off the ringer.
And still, the noise seeped in.
News alerts buzzed across every major network. My old friends from college—people I hadn’t spoken to in years—were suddenly texting me with wide-eyed emojis and “OMG is this YOU?” messages. A girl I barely remembered from a yoga class once commented on one of my ancient Instagram posts with: “Wait. Is your son THE Wolfe heir?”
I stood in Lucien’s penthouse kitchen in one of his oversized T-shirts, barefoot and completely overwhelmed.
Leo, on the other hand, sat at the island with a banana pancake and a crown made of napkins he’d proudly taped together. Completely unbothered.
“Mommy,” he said between bites, “what does ‘heir’ mean?”
I blinked. “Where did you hear that?”
“On TV.” He shrugged. “Some lady with a lot of makeup said I’m the Wolfe heir. Do I have to wear a crown now? Is it heavy?”
I choked on my coffee.
Lucien appeared then, dressed in a navy-blue suit that somehow made him look more powerful and more approachable at the same time. He walked behind Leo and gently fixed the lopsided napkin crown on his head.
“You can wear whatever you like,” he said, his tone warm. “Crown or no crown.”
Leo beamed. “Then I want a cape next.”
Lucien smirked at me. “Noted.”
When Leo turned his attention back to his pancakes, Lucien leaned in closer, voice low. “How are you holding up?”
I exhaled. “Like I’m inside a blender. But a fancy one.”
“I’ll take that as a win.”
We moved into the living room, and he poured me another cup of coffee. It was quiet for a few moments—just the background hum of Leo humming to himself in the kitchen.
Then I said what I’d been holding in all morning.
“Lucien… you didn’t have to do that. The press release. Going public like that.”
“Yes, I did.”
His voice was calm but firm, and when he looked at me, I saw no hesitation in his eyes.
“He’s my son,” he said. “You’re the woman I love. And Damon needed to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you’re not alone. That Leo’s not a secret anymore. That he won’t get near either of you again.”
Something in me softened and tightened all at once.
“But it puts a target on us,” I whispered. “Your world—it’s not quiet. And now people are watching. They’ll dig. They’ll judge. Some of them won’t understand why I didn’t tell you about Leo sooner.”
Lucien set his mug down, his jaw tightening.
“If anyone questions that,” he said, “they can deal with me.”
He sat beside me, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“I know I missed the first four years of his life, Isla. I’ll never stop regretting that. But now that I have both of you, I’m not backing down. Let the world watch. They’ll see the truth.”
I blinked fast, trying to keep my emotions in check.
“And what about the board?” I asked. “Your investors? You went from a no-scandal, no-family billionaire to—”
“To a father,” he interrupted. “And if they can’t handle that, they’re free to walk. I’ve built empires from less.”
I was still wrapping my head around this new Lucien. Fierce. Unapologetic. Fiercely protective of a little boy who looked at him like he’d hung the stars.
And of me.
“Okay,” I finally said. “Let them watch.”
He smiled then. The kind that made my heart skip.
Before we could say anything else, Leo came running in, his napkin crown flapping.
“Mom! Dad! There’s a big car outside! And a camera!”
I stiffened.
Lucien rose immediately, already pulling out his phone.
I moved to the window.
Below, a black SUV sat parked across the street. The back window was cracked, and a long-lens camera was pointed directly at the penthouse. The kind they used in tabloids. Or worse.
Lucien swore under his breath and began barking instructions to his security team.
“Tell them no pictures. No statements. And if they follow Leo to school, they’ll deal with me personally.”
He turned to me.
“We can leave. Go somewhere quieter for a while. Somewhere safe.”
But I shook my head.
“No more running,” I said. “They’ll chase us anyway. Might as well hold our ground.”
For a long beat, he just looked at me.
Then he reached for my hand. “Together?”
“Always.”
Later that day
We took Leo to the zoo.
Not the private VIP tour Lucien’s assistant tried to arrange, but the regular entrance. The kind with sticky handrails and popcorn stands and children yelling about penguins.
Lucien wore sunglasses and a baseball cap. I did the same. But Leo didn’t care about disguises—he only cared about feeding the giraffes.
I watched as Lucien hoisted our son up to the feeding platform. Leo’s giggles echoed through the air, the sound pure and unfiltered. For a moment, the world shrank down to just us. No cameras. No headlines. No past mistakes.
Just a man, a woman, and the child that tethered them together.
Lucien looked over at me then, one arm wrapped around Leo, the other hand resting on the railing. His eyes were soft, but there was something determined in them too. Like he knew this peace wouldn’t last long—but he’d fight to preserve it anyway.
And for the first time since everything began, I didn’t feel afraid.
Because we weren’t a secret anymore.
We were a family.
The world changed overnight.
One moment, we were shadows moving quietly, surviving. The next, we were everywhere.
Lucien’s press release dropped at 7:00 a.m. sharp. It was simple, elegant, and explosive.
Lucien Wolfe, CEO of Wolfe International, confirms paternity of his son, Leo Monroe, and rekindled relationship with former partner Isla Monroe. In a statement, Mr. Wolfe shared, “My family is no longer a secret. They are the best part of my life—and I intend to protect and love them, publicly and permanently.”
Within minutes, my phone lit up like a Christmas tree. Missed calls. Messages. Emails. I hadn’t seen this much digital chaos since Leo was born.
I turned off the ringer.
And still, the noise seeped in.
News alerts buzzed across every major network. My old friends from college—people I hadn’t spoken to in years—were suddenly texting me with wide-eyed emojis and “OMG is this YOU?” messages. A girl I barely remembered from a yoga class once commented on one of my ancient Instagram posts with: “Wait. Is your son THE Wolfe heir?”
I stood in Lucien’s penthouse kitchen in one of his oversized T-shirts, barefoot and completely overwhelmed.
Leo, on the other hand, sat at the island with a banana pancake and a crown made of napkins he’d proudly taped together. Completely unbothered.
“Mommy,” he said between bites, “what does ‘heir’ mean?”
I blinked. “Where did you hear that?”
“On TV.” He shrugged. “Some lady with a lot of makeup said I’m the Wolfe heir. Do I have to wear a crown now? Is it heavy?”
I choked on my coffee.
Lucien appeared then, dressed in a navy-blue suit that somehow made him look more powerful and more approachable at the same time. He walked behind Leo and gently fixed the lopsided napkin crown on his head.
“You can wear whatever you like,” he said, his tone warm. “Crown or no crown.”
Leo beamed. “Then I want a cape next.”
Lucien smirked at me. “Noted.”
When Leo turned his attention back to his pancakes, Lucien leaned in closer, voice low. “How are you holding up?”
I exhaled. “Like I’m inside a blender. But a fancy one.”
“I’ll take that as a win.”
We moved into the living room, and he poured me another cup of coffee. It was quiet for a few moments—just the background hum of Leo humming to himself in the kitchen.
Then I said what I’d been holding in all morning.
“Lucien… you didn’t have to do that. The press release. Going public like that.”
“Yes, I did.”
His voice was calm but firm, and when he looked at me, I saw no hesitation in his eyes.
“He’s my son,” he said. “You’re the woman I love. And Damon needed to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you’re not alone. That Leo’s not a secret anymore. That he won’t get near either of you again.”
Something in me softened and tightened all at once.
“But it puts a target on us,” I whispered. “Your world—it’s not quiet. And now people are watching. They’ll dig. They’ll judge. Some of them won’t understand why I didn’t tell you about Leo sooner.”
Lucien set his mug down, his jaw tightening.
“If anyone questions that,” he said, “they can deal with me.”
He sat beside me, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“I know I missed the first four years of his life, Isla. I’ll never stop regretting that. But now that I have both of you, I’m not backing down. Let the world watch. They’ll see the truth.”
I blinked fast, trying to keep my emotions in check.
“And what about the board?” I asked. “Your investors? You went from a no-scandal, no-family billionaire to—”
“To a father,” he interrupted. “And if they can’t handle that, they’re free to walk. I’ve built empires from less.”
I was still wrapping my head around this new Lucien. Fierce. Unapologetic. Fiercely protective of a little boy who looked at him like he’d hung the stars.
And of me.
“Okay,” I finally said. “Let them watch.”
He smiled then. The kind that made my heart skip.
Before we could say anything else, Leo came running in, his napkin crown flapping.
“Mom! Dad! There’s a big car outside! And a camera!”
I stiffened.
Lucien rose immediately, already pulling out his phone.
I moved to the window.
Below, a black SUV sat parked across the street. The back window was cracked, and a long-lens camera was pointed directly at the penthouse. The kind they used in tabloids. Or worse.
Lucien swore under his breath and began barking instructions to his security team.
“Tell them no pictures. No statements. And if they follow Leo to school, they’ll deal with me personally.”
He turned to me.
“We can leave. Go somewhere quieter for a while. Somewhere safe.”
But I shook my head.
“No more running,” I said. “They’ll chase us anyway. Might as well hold our ground.”
For a long beat, he just looked at me.
Then he reached for my hand. “Together?”
“Always.”
Later that day
We took Leo to the zoo.
Not the private VIP tour Lucien’s assistant tried to arrange, but the regular entrance. The kind with sticky handrails and popcorn stands and children yelling about penguins.
Lucien wore sunglasses and a baseball cap. I did the same. But Leo didn’t care about disguises—he only cared about feeding the giraffes.
I watched as Lucien hoisted our son up to the feeding platform. Leo’s giggles echoed through the air, the sound pure and unfiltered. For a moment, the world shrank down to just us. No cameras. No headlines. No past mistakes.
Just a man, a woman, and the child that tethered them together.
Lucien looked over at me then, one arm wrapped around Leo, the other hand resting on the railing. His eyes were soft, but there was something determined in them too. Like he knew this peace wouldn’t last long—but he’d fight to preserve it anyway.
And for the first time since everything began, I didn’t feel afraid.
Because we weren’t a secret anymore.
We were a family.
End of His Heir, Her Secret Chapter 37. Continue reading Chapter 38 or return to His Heir, Her Secret book page.