His Heir, Her Secret - Chapter 56: Chapter 56
You are reading His Heir, Her Secret, Chapter 56: Chapter 56. Read more chapters of His Heir, Her Secret.
Lucien
The city never really slept, but from the 47th floor of Wolfe Holdings, it at least seemed like it did. Manhattan’s lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my private office—cold, clean, distant. The kind of view meant to inspire power.
Tonight, it felt like a war map.
I stood with my back to the room, fingers clutched around a glass of bourbon I hadn’t touched. My mind wasn’t on the deal closing in Tokyo or the last-minute shakeup on the board after my announcement about Isla and Leo. It was on the message she forwarded. Damon’s threat.
It hadn’t been vague. It hadn’t been cautious. It had been direct and deliberate.
“You think he can protect you now? He’s just a distraction. I’m coming for what’s mine.”
Mine.
The audacity of it made my jaw tighten, my fingers curl around the glass until the cut crystal left an imprint in my palm. I hadn’t wanted to go nuclear. I’d hoped that by stepping into the light with Isla and Leo, Damon would back off—understanding that I wasn’t just a name now. I was a shield. A weapon.
But predators didn’t retreat. They circled. They stalked. And Damon, apparently, preferred the long game.
“Lucien.”
I turned as Asher entered. My legal head of strategy. Precise, sharp, the kind of man who used words like scalpels. He was already on his second espresso and looked like he hadn’t blinked in an hour.
“What have we got?” I asked.
“Damon’s lawyer filed a motion to amend his original custody petition. He’s pushing for full visitation rights… and temporary guardianship pending a paternity resolution.”
My blood went cold.
“He wants custody?” I said slowly.
“He wants a foothold,” Asher corrected. “A way to establish presence, create the illusion that Isla kept Leo from him out of spite—not protection.”
“And paternity?”
“He’s betting on chaos. That the scandal of you only recently stepping forward as Leo’s father will muddy timelines. He’s building a narrative that Isla didn’t know who the father was and manipulated both of you.”
“She didn’t.” My voice was low, sharp.
“I know,” Asher said, calm and unshaken. “But perception is his weapon. We need to move faster.”
“How fast?”
“I’ve already filed for emergency injunctions to block his contact attempts. And we’re expediting the DNA test, just to erase even the shadow of doubt. Isla’s already signed off. We’ll need Leo to complete the triad.”
My chest tightened. The idea of swabbing my son like a legal exhibit in a courtroom drama made my stomach turn.
I’d never wanted Leo in this mess. He was innocent. Soft. Smarter than he should’ve had to be at that age. The world should’ve been playgrounds and picture books—not security details and courtroom affidavits.
“Do it,” I said. “Book the earliest slot. Quietly.”
Asher nodded, pausing as he reached into his folder. “Also… this arrived thirty minutes ago.”
He handed me a manila envelope.
Inside were stills—security footage pulled from the school. Damon, standing across the street. Hands in his pockets. Watching Leo.
My jaw clenched.
“I want him nowhere near that school again.”
“He technically hasn’t breached the restraining parameters yet. He’s skirting the edges.”
“Then redraw the damn edges.”
Asher gave a rare smirk. “Already done.”
I turned back to the window. The city pulsed in front of me. The empire I’d built—ruthlessly, meticulously—felt suddenly insignificant compared to the fragile life sleeping across town in a two-bedroom apartment with the woman I had never stopped loving.
I’d let her walk away five years ago because I thought I had time. I thought I was doing the noble thing—protecting her from the media, the legacy, my father’s manipulation. I hadn’t realized what she’d really needed was for me to choose her, unequivocally and without delay.
Now, I was choosing her with everything I had. And it still didn’t feel like enough.
I pulled out my phone and opened the camera roll.
A photo from earlier tonight. Isla, blurry in the background, smiling softly as Leo posed with the plush tiger, nose wrinkled, eyes alight with something that looked suspiciously like joy.
I stared at it for a long time before typing out a message.
Lucien: He’s my whole world now. You both are.
I didn’t send it.
Instead, I pocketed the phone and walked to the wall safe behind my desk. The biometric scan blinked once, then opened. Inside, among corporate contracts and irreplaceable documents, was a small black box.
I took it out.
Opened it.
Stared at the ring.
It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t even newly bought. I’d chosen it the week I first realized I loved Isla—when she was still just the brilliant intern with ink on her hands and fire in her eyes. I’d hidden it away after she left, telling myself it was foolish sentiment. That the time had passed.
But it hadn’t.
Not for me.
And now… maybe it was the only thing I had left to promise her. That even amid the chaos, the war, the vultures… I was still choosing her. Not because of the child, or the scandal, or the need to fix what had been broken—but because she had always been it.
There was a knock at the door.
“Sir?” It was Marco, his voice calm but alert. “She’s safe. The guards are in place. No sign of him tonight.”
I nodded once. “Good.”
“Should I stay on location?”
“Rotate shifts. Nobody leaves that building unless it’s me or her giving the order. Understood?”
“Crystal clear.”
The door closed again.
And I stood there, alone, the ring in my hand, and the weight of everything we’d survived pressing into my chest.
Damon wanted war?
He’d just declared it against the wrong man.
The city never really slept, but from the 47th floor of Wolfe Holdings, it at least seemed like it did. Manhattan’s lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my private office—cold, clean, distant. The kind of view meant to inspire power.
Tonight, it felt like a war map.
I stood with my back to the room, fingers clutched around a glass of bourbon I hadn’t touched. My mind wasn’t on the deal closing in Tokyo or the last-minute shakeup on the board after my announcement about Isla and Leo. It was on the message she forwarded. Damon’s threat.
It hadn’t been vague. It hadn’t been cautious. It had been direct and deliberate.
“You think he can protect you now? He’s just a distraction. I’m coming for what’s mine.”
Mine.
The audacity of it made my jaw tighten, my fingers curl around the glass until the cut crystal left an imprint in my palm. I hadn’t wanted to go nuclear. I’d hoped that by stepping into the light with Isla and Leo, Damon would back off—understanding that I wasn’t just a name now. I was a shield. A weapon.
But predators didn’t retreat. They circled. They stalked. And Damon, apparently, preferred the long game.
“Lucien.”
I turned as Asher entered. My legal head of strategy. Precise, sharp, the kind of man who used words like scalpels. He was already on his second espresso and looked like he hadn’t blinked in an hour.
“What have we got?” I asked.
“Damon’s lawyer filed a motion to amend his original custody petition. He’s pushing for full visitation rights… and temporary guardianship pending a paternity resolution.”
My blood went cold.
“He wants custody?” I said slowly.
“He wants a foothold,” Asher corrected. “A way to establish presence, create the illusion that Isla kept Leo from him out of spite—not protection.”
“And paternity?”
“He’s betting on chaos. That the scandal of you only recently stepping forward as Leo’s father will muddy timelines. He’s building a narrative that Isla didn’t know who the father was and manipulated both of you.”
“She didn’t.” My voice was low, sharp.
“I know,” Asher said, calm and unshaken. “But perception is his weapon. We need to move faster.”
“How fast?”
“I’ve already filed for emergency injunctions to block his contact attempts. And we’re expediting the DNA test, just to erase even the shadow of doubt. Isla’s already signed off. We’ll need Leo to complete the triad.”
My chest tightened. The idea of swabbing my son like a legal exhibit in a courtroom drama made my stomach turn.
I’d never wanted Leo in this mess. He was innocent. Soft. Smarter than he should’ve had to be at that age. The world should’ve been playgrounds and picture books—not security details and courtroom affidavits.
“Do it,” I said. “Book the earliest slot. Quietly.”
Asher nodded, pausing as he reached into his folder. “Also… this arrived thirty minutes ago.”
He handed me a manila envelope.
Inside were stills—security footage pulled from the school. Damon, standing across the street. Hands in his pockets. Watching Leo.
My jaw clenched.
“I want him nowhere near that school again.”
“He technically hasn’t breached the restraining parameters yet. He’s skirting the edges.”
“Then redraw the damn edges.”
Asher gave a rare smirk. “Already done.”
I turned back to the window. The city pulsed in front of me. The empire I’d built—ruthlessly, meticulously—felt suddenly insignificant compared to the fragile life sleeping across town in a two-bedroom apartment with the woman I had never stopped loving.
I’d let her walk away five years ago because I thought I had time. I thought I was doing the noble thing—protecting her from the media, the legacy, my father’s manipulation. I hadn’t realized what she’d really needed was for me to choose her, unequivocally and without delay.
Now, I was choosing her with everything I had. And it still didn’t feel like enough.
I pulled out my phone and opened the camera roll.
A photo from earlier tonight. Isla, blurry in the background, smiling softly as Leo posed with the plush tiger, nose wrinkled, eyes alight with something that looked suspiciously like joy.
I stared at it for a long time before typing out a message.
Lucien: He’s my whole world now. You both are.
I didn’t send it.
Instead, I pocketed the phone and walked to the wall safe behind my desk. The biometric scan blinked once, then opened. Inside, among corporate contracts and irreplaceable documents, was a small black box.
I took it out.
Opened it.
Stared at the ring.
It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t even newly bought. I’d chosen it the week I first realized I loved Isla—when she was still just the brilliant intern with ink on her hands and fire in her eyes. I’d hidden it away after she left, telling myself it was foolish sentiment. That the time had passed.
But it hadn’t.
Not for me.
And now… maybe it was the only thing I had left to promise her. That even amid the chaos, the war, the vultures… I was still choosing her. Not because of the child, or the scandal, or the need to fix what had been broken—but because she had always been it.
There was a knock at the door.
“Sir?” It was Marco, his voice calm but alert. “She’s safe. The guards are in place. No sign of him tonight.”
I nodded once. “Good.”
“Should I stay on location?”
“Rotate shifts. Nobody leaves that building unless it’s me or her giving the order. Understood?”
“Crystal clear.”
The door closed again.
And I stood there, alone, the ring in my hand, and the weight of everything we’d survived pressing into my chest.
Damon wanted war?
He’d just declared it against the wrong man.
End of His Heir, Her Secret Chapter 56. Continue reading Chapter 57 or return to His Heir, Her Secret book page.