The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs - Chapter 68: Chapter 68
You are reading The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs, Chapter 68: Chapter 68. Read more chapters of The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs.
~HUNTER~
I was already on my third cup of coffee when the sun rose. Sleep had been impossible after leaving Celine in the hallway last night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her….flushed skin in candlelight, soft gasps against my ear, the way she'd whispered my name like a prayer.
The memory of her body against mine, under mine, was burned into my skin.
What the hell had I done?
My office felt like a sanctuary as dawn broke. I'd come here at four a.m., unable to lie in bed with thoughts of her any longer. Work was my refuge—always had been.
Spreadsheets didn't ask for things I couldn't give. Contracts didn't make me feel things I didn't want to feel.
Baron had delivered a stack of reports at six, his expression neutral as always, though I caught the slight raise of his eyebrow at finding me already working.
"The staff are aware the power outage trapped you and Ms. Brown in the cellar last night," he said, his tone even. "Should I address any... rumors that might arise?"
I looked up sharply. "What rumors?"
"None yet, sir. Just being proactive."
I nodded, dismissing him with a wave. Baron knew me too well—knew when to speak and when to stay silent. Right now, his knowing gaze was the last thing I needed.
I buried myself in work for the next two hours, forcing thoughts of soft skin and whispered confessions from my mind. The Reid Hotel Group wouldn't run itself.
A crisis with a supplier in Singapore needed my attention. The board expected quarterly projections by end of week.
Yet all I could think about was the taste of wine on Celine's lips.
A soft knock on my door made my heart race. I knew that knock, had memorized its rhythm without meaning to.
"Come in," I called, steeling myself.
Celine stepped into my office, closing the door quietly behind her. She wore a simple navy dress, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. Beautiful without trying.
The sight of her hit me like a physical blow.
"Good morning," she said, her voice tentative.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Instead, I shuffled papers on my desk, creating distance through meaningless activity.
"I thought we should talk," she continued when I remained silent. "About last night."
I forced myself to meet her eyes, immediately regretting it. The hope I saw there made my chest tighten painfully. Hope I couldn't fulfill.
"Last night was..." she began.
"A mistake," I cut in, the words tasting bitter. "One that won't happen again."
Her face fell, the light in her eyes dimming. It was like watching the sun disappear behind clouds. I hated myself for being the cause.
"I see," she said quietly. "So we're back to this again."
I stood, needing to move, to put the desk between us as a barrier. "I'm your employer, Celine. We need to maintain professional boundaries."
"Professional boundaries," she repeated, a hollow laugh escaping her. "Is that what you were thinking about in the wine cellar? Professional boundaries?"
"I wasn't thinking at all," I snapped, frustration making my voice harder than intended. "That's the problem."
She flinched slightly, and I immediately regretted my tone. This wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. She'd walked into my life and turned everything upside down simply by existing.
"So that's it?" she asked, voice steady despite the hurt evident in her eyes. "Back to boss and maid?"
"It's for the best," I said, not meeting her gaze. "For both of us."
My phone rang, the screen lighting up with my CFO's name. Perfect timing. An escape.
"I need to take this," I said, gesturing to the phone.
Celine nodded, turning toward the door. "Of course. Don't let me keep you from what's important."
The barb found its mark. I deserved it.
"Celine," I called as she reached for the door handle.
She paused but didn't turn around. "Yes, Mr. Reid?"
The formality stung—another wall between us I'd put there myself.
"Caesar," I said, grasping for something, anything to say that wasn't about us. "How is he feeling?"
"Much better," she said, her voice softening slightly at the mention of her son. "No fever since yesterday. Thank you for asking."
I nodded, though she couldn't see me with her back still turned. "Good. That's good."
The phone continued ringing. The moment stretched between us, heavy with all the things I couldn't say.
"Goodbye, Hunter," she finally said, so quietly I almost missed it. Then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
I stared at the closed door for a long moment before answering the phone. "Reid speaking."
As I discussed profit margins and expansion plans, my mind kept drifting to the hurt in Celine's eyes. I told myself it was necessary—this distance, this coldness.
I had responsibilities, expectations. A family name to uphold. I couldn't afford distractions.
And Celine Brown was the most dangerous distraction I'd ever met.
The call ended, and I sank back into my chair, rubbing my temples where a headache was forming. The truth was, last night hadn't been a mistake at all.
It had been inevitable….from the moment I'd first seen her, we'd been moving toward that moment in the wine cellar. Like gravity, like fate.
That was what terrified me.
I didn't do relationships. Didn't do feelings. My parents' marriage had taught me everything I needed to know about love….it was a business arrangement at best, a prison at worst.
My father had built an empire while my mother maintained the perfect appearance of a devoted wife, both of them living separate lives under the same roof.
I'd sworn I'd never trap myself in that kind of emptiness. Yet with Celine... it was different. Dangerous. Real.
I pulled out my phone, scrolling to a name I rarely contacted.
"Dr. Mercer's office," a professional voice answered.
"This is Hunter Reid. I need to speak with Dr. Mercer as soon as possible."
"Mr. Reid, Dr. Mercer is fully booked this week. Would next Monday work?"
"Make time today," I said, my tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Tell him it's urgent."
"I'll see what I can do, sir."
I hung up, staring out the window at the perfectly manicured grounds of my estate. Everything in its place, controlled, managed.
Except for the chaos Celine had introduced into my carefully ordered life.
My therapist had warned me about this—my need for control, the walls I'd built, the fear of vulnerability that defined me.
Years of therapy had helped me understand my issues, but understanding and changing were different beasts entirely.
A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. Head maid sally entered, her expression serious.
"Sir, your mother called. She's arriving this afternoon. Says it's an urgent family business."
Perfect. Just what I needed today. My mother's visits always came with expectations and judgments thinly veiled as concern.
"Thank you, Sally. Have her usual room prepared."
As She left, I glanced at my watch. Only 9:30 a.m., and already the day was spiraling beyond my control. I needed to focus, to regain my peace before facing my mother.
I pulled up the security feeds on my tablet—a habit I'd developed since Celine and Caesar moved in.
I told myself it was for their protection, but the truth was simpler: I couldn't stay away from them.
The kitchen camera showed Celine making breakfast for Caesar, her smile bright as she helped him pour juice. No sign of the hurt I'd caused just minutes ago.
She was strong that way—putting on a brave face for her son.
Caesar said something that made her laugh, and the sound carried through the feed. My chest tightened again.
He looked so much like photos of me at that age—the same serious expressions broken by sudden, brilliant smiles. The same cowlick at the crown of his head.
I'd never wanted children. Never thought I had it in me to be a father. I'd seen what kind of father Reid men made…distant, demanding, cold.
Yet watching Caesar, I felt something shift inside me. A possibility I'd never considered before.
My phone buzzed with a text from Dr. Mercer: "3pm today. Don't be late."
I closed the security feed, unable to watch Celine's forced happiness any longer.
I had six hours to pull myself together before meeting with my therapist, and another challenge after that when my mother arrived.
But first, I needed to do something about the ache in my chest—the one that had appeared the moment Celine walked out my door, taking something vital with her.
I was Hunter Reid. I controlled everything in my world with precision and purpose.
Except, it seemed, my own heart.
I was already on my third cup of coffee when the sun rose. Sleep had been impossible after leaving Celine in the hallway last night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her….flushed skin in candlelight, soft gasps against my ear, the way she'd whispered my name like a prayer.
The memory of her body against mine, under mine, was burned into my skin.
What the hell had I done?
My office felt like a sanctuary as dawn broke. I'd come here at four a.m., unable to lie in bed with thoughts of her any longer. Work was my refuge—always had been.
Spreadsheets didn't ask for things I couldn't give. Contracts didn't make me feel things I didn't want to feel.
Baron had delivered a stack of reports at six, his expression neutral as always, though I caught the slight raise of his eyebrow at finding me already working.
"The staff are aware the power outage trapped you and Ms. Brown in the cellar last night," he said, his tone even. "Should I address any... rumors that might arise?"
I looked up sharply. "What rumors?"
"None yet, sir. Just being proactive."
I nodded, dismissing him with a wave. Baron knew me too well—knew when to speak and when to stay silent. Right now, his knowing gaze was the last thing I needed.
I buried myself in work for the next two hours, forcing thoughts of soft skin and whispered confessions from my mind. The Reid Hotel Group wouldn't run itself.
A crisis with a supplier in Singapore needed my attention. The board expected quarterly projections by end of week.
Yet all I could think about was the taste of wine on Celine's lips.
A soft knock on my door made my heart race. I knew that knock, had memorized its rhythm without meaning to.
"Come in," I called, steeling myself.
Celine stepped into my office, closing the door quietly behind her. She wore a simple navy dress, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. Beautiful without trying.
The sight of her hit me like a physical blow.
"Good morning," she said, her voice tentative.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Instead, I shuffled papers on my desk, creating distance through meaningless activity.
"I thought we should talk," she continued when I remained silent. "About last night."
I forced myself to meet her eyes, immediately regretting it. The hope I saw there made my chest tighten painfully. Hope I couldn't fulfill.
"Last night was..." she began.
"A mistake," I cut in, the words tasting bitter. "One that won't happen again."
Her face fell, the light in her eyes dimming. It was like watching the sun disappear behind clouds. I hated myself for being the cause.
"I see," she said quietly. "So we're back to this again."
I stood, needing to move, to put the desk between us as a barrier. "I'm your employer, Celine. We need to maintain professional boundaries."
"Professional boundaries," she repeated, a hollow laugh escaping her. "Is that what you were thinking about in the wine cellar? Professional boundaries?"
"I wasn't thinking at all," I snapped, frustration making my voice harder than intended. "That's the problem."
She flinched slightly, and I immediately regretted my tone. This wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. She'd walked into my life and turned everything upside down simply by existing.
"So that's it?" she asked, voice steady despite the hurt evident in her eyes. "Back to boss and maid?"
"It's for the best," I said, not meeting her gaze. "For both of us."
My phone rang, the screen lighting up with my CFO's name. Perfect timing. An escape.
"I need to take this," I said, gesturing to the phone.
Celine nodded, turning toward the door. "Of course. Don't let me keep you from what's important."
The barb found its mark. I deserved it.
"Celine," I called as she reached for the door handle.
She paused but didn't turn around. "Yes, Mr. Reid?"
The formality stung—another wall between us I'd put there myself.
"Caesar," I said, grasping for something, anything to say that wasn't about us. "How is he feeling?"
"Much better," she said, her voice softening slightly at the mention of her son. "No fever since yesterday. Thank you for asking."
I nodded, though she couldn't see me with her back still turned. "Good. That's good."
The phone continued ringing. The moment stretched between us, heavy with all the things I couldn't say.
"Goodbye, Hunter," she finally said, so quietly I almost missed it. Then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
I stared at the closed door for a long moment before answering the phone. "Reid speaking."
As I discussed profit margins and expansion plans, my mind kept drifting to the hurt in Celine's eyes. I told myself it was necessary—this distance, this coldness.
I had responsibilities, expectations. A family name to uphold. I couldn't afford distractions.
And Celine Brown was the most dangerous distraction I'd ever met.
The call ended, and I sank back into my chair, rubbing my temples where a headache was forming. The truth was, last night hadn't been a mistake at all.
It had been inevitable….from the moment I'd first seen her, we'd been moving toward that moment in the wine cellar. Like gravity, like fate.
That was what terrified me.
I didn't do relationships. Didn't do feelings. My parents' marriage had taught me everything I needed to know about love….it was a business arrangement at best, a prison at worst.
My father had built an empire while my mother maintained the perfect appearance of a devoted wife, both of them living separate lives under the same roof.
I'd sworn I'd never trap myself in that kind of emptiness. Yet with Celine... it was different. Dangerous. Real.
I pulled out my phone, scrolling to a name I rarely contacted.
"Dr. Mercer's office," a professional voice answered.
"This is Hunter Reid. I need to speak with Dr. Mercer as soon as possible."
"Mr. Reid, Dr. Mercer is fully booked this week. Would next Monday work?"
"Make time today," I said, my tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Tell him it's urgent."
"I'll see what I can do, sir."
I hung up, staring out the window at the perfectly manicured grounds of my estate. Everything in its place, controlled, managed.
Except for the chaos Celine had introduced into my carefully ordered life.
My therapist had warned me about this—my need for control, the walls I'd built, the fear of vulnerability that defined me.
Years of therapy had helped me understand my issues, but understanding and changing were different beasts entirely.
A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. Head maid sally entered, her expression serious.
"Sir, your mother called. She's arriving this afternoon. Says it's an urgent family business."
Perfect. Just what I needed today. My mother's visits always came with expectations and judgments thinly veiled as concern.
"Thank you, Sally. Have her usual room prepared."
As She left, I glanced at my watch. Only 9:30 a.m., and already the day was spiraling beyond my control. I needed to focus, to regain my peace before facing my mother.
I pulled up the security feeds on my tablet—a habit I'd developed since Celine and Caesar moved in.
I told myself it was for their protection, but the truth was simpler: I couldn't stay away from them.
The kitchen camera showed Celine making breakfast for Caesar, her smile bright as she helped him pour juice. No sign of the hurt I'd caused just minutes ago.
She was strong that way—putting on a brave face for her son.
Caesar said something that made her laugh, and the sound carried through the feed. My chest tightened again.
He looked so much like photos of me at that age—the same serious expressions broken by sudden, brilliant smiles. The same cowlick at the crown of his head.
I'd never wanted children. Never thought I had it in me to be a father. I'd seen what kind of father Reid men made…distant, demanding, cold.
Yet watching Caesar, I felt something shift inside me. A possibility I'd never considered before.
My phone buzzed with a text from Dr. Mercer: "3pm today. Don't be late."
I closed the security feed, unable to watch Celine's forced happiness any longer.
I had six hours to pull myself together before meeting with my therapist, and another challenge after that when my mother arrived.
But first, I needed to do something about the ache in my chest—the one that had appeared the moment Celine walked out my door, taking something vital with her.
I was Hunter Reid. I controlled everything in my world with precision and purpose.
Except, it seemed, my own heart.
End of The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs Chapter 68. Continue reading Chapter 69 or return to The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs book page.