His Heir, Her Secret - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

Lucien
I’ve fought wars in boardrooms, waged battles over billion-dollar mergers, and taken down entire empires with a signature and a steel gaze.
But nothing—nothing—has ever felt as high-stakes as this.
The morning sun filters through the penthouse windows, casting golden lines across the marble floors. It should feel like power. Like control. But all I feel is the weight of what’s coming. The clock is ticking, and the man who tried to haunt Isla’s past is trying to claim a place in my son’s future.
Over my dead body.
I button my shirt, ignoring the untouched espresso on the sideboard. My phone buzzes again—another message from Evan, my chief legal strategist, waiting downstairs with a full team. We’ve already prepped for the possibility of Damon making a legal move, and now that he’s gone through with it, we’re out of the hypothetical.
It’s war.
But first, I walk back into the guest room—our room now, though neither of us has said it out loud—and pause in the doorway. Isla’s curled up on the bed with Leo nestled into her side, both of them still fast asleep.
My family.
The two people I never thought I’d deserve, never thought I’d find, and now—there isn’t a force in the universe that will take them from me.
Leo shifts in his sleep, his tiny hand reaching instinctively for Isla’s. My chest tightens. He’s a part of me, but even more, he’s a part of her—the best part. And I’ve made them targets just by being who I am. The name Lucien Wolfe draws blood and whispers; it turns heads in rooms with gold ceilings, and now it draws enemies from both my world and hers.
I won’t let him grow up with that shadow.
I walk out quietly, grab my jacket, and head downstairs.
Evan’s already spread out at the long glass table in my private conference suite, laptop open, notes color-coded, and files stacked in grim little towers.
“Good morning,” he says, though nothing about his tone sounds like it. “Damon Cross’s legal team filed for emergency custody recognition this morning. It’s not going to stick—we’ve got grounds to contest—but he’s playing fast and dirty.”
“Let him,” I say, taking a seat. “I don’t want him just blocked. I want him discredited. I want every judge to see him for what he is before he even opens his mouth.”
Evan taps a key and pulls up an evidence board projected onto the screen. “We’re compiling a list of prior complaints and documented threats. Isla already has a statement on file, and with your backing—”
“No,” I cut in. “It’s not my backing. She’s not a pawn in this. She’s the one he hurt. Let’s make that clear.”
He nods. “Understood. We’ve got character witnesses lining up. Isla’s neighbors, coworkers from before she moved, even her OB-GYN from Leo’s birth is willing to testify that Damon was never listed as the father.”
I lean back, tension crackling behind my eyes. “What about the media response?”
“We’ve kept most of it quiet, but after your statement yesterday, there’s going to be noise. You publicly named Leo as your son. The tabloids are circling. Some are painting this as a custody tug-of-war between two alphas.”
I let out a sharp breath. “Then we set the record straight. Isla isn’t a prize. She’s Leo’s mother. She’s the one who’s protected him while I was blind to the truth.”
I pause, jaw tight. “It’s time we shift the narrative.”
Evan raises an eyebrow. “You mean… go fully public?”
“I mean we don’t let Damon control the conversation. I want a sit-down interview. Controlled setting. One camera. One truth.”
He blinks. “That’s bold. Especially for you.”
“I’m done hiding. Isla and Leo are mine. And I’m not afraid of the world knowing that anymore.”
He starts typing again. “I’ll schedule it.”
Later that afternoon, after half a dozen more calls with the legal team and two more press inquiries I ignored, I step out onto the terrace and find Isla watching the city below, her hair swept back by the breeze.
She turns when she hears me. Her eyes are wary, like she’s bracing herself.
“Did you know he’d do this?” she asks quietly.
I don’t lie. “I knew it was possible. That’s why I’ve been preparing behind the scenes. I didn’t want to burden you until I had something concrete to protect us with.”
Her shoulders drop, a bitter laugh escaping her. “He’s trying to rewrite history.”
“He won’t succeed,” I say, moving beside her. “You raised Leo alone for five years. You kept him safe. That matters more than any blood claim Damon can wave around.”
She’s quiet for a beat, then asks, “And you? What happens if this fight gets ugly? If they drag your name through the mud?”
“They already do,” I murmur. “But this…this is different. I’d walk through fire to keep Leo out of his reach. And I’ll walk through worse to protect you.”
She looks at me then, really looks—like she’s trying to see the man behind the suits, behind the power.
“Are you sure?” she whispers.
I step closer, brushing my fingers against hers. “Isla. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
She leans into me slowly, letting her head rest against my chest, and for a long moment, we just stand there—two broken people building something unbreakable.
And when she finally speaks again, her voice is soft but resolute.
“Then let’s finish this.”