His Son, Her Secret
In the grand church where her dreams are meant to come true, Belva Moguel’s world shatters in an instant. A damning video plays—Pascha Romanov, the man she’s about to marry, tangled in betrayal with her best friend. The vows remain unspoken, the promises broken before they even begin.
Heartbroken, Belva walks away from everything: the man she thought she knew, the family she cherished, and the perfect future she had once envisioned.
Five years passed. In San Francisco, Belva rebuilds her life from the rubble of the past, living peaceful days with the big secret she’s been hiding: a little boy the world has never known, let alone his father.
Yet, her fragile peace crumbles when destiny thrusts her back into the path of the man who once shattered her heart.
A ghost from her past who ignites chaos with a single, reckless night of passion. His intoxicating charm pulls her into a whirlwind she swore she’d never revisit, leaving her reeling from the thunderous echoes of her mistake.
Pascha is no longer the man she knew. He has turned into a cold, vengeful figure with a dark charm that shakes Belva's walls.
Amidst the chaos, Belva must face the fact that Pascha has another woman by his side, while she desperately protects the secret about their son.
As past and present collide, Belva is caught between love, betrayal, and a choice that could destroy everything. Can she hold on to the world she has built, or must she give up everything, once again?
Basahin
Chapter: MINEThey say a kid won’t remember their fifth birthday.Clearly, they never met Max Romanov.The mansion tucked between the pine forests was barely visible from the entrance road now, thanks to the absolutely ridiculous amount of decorations. Silver robot-shaped helium balloons, neon lights, and a giant sign at the edge of the lawn that screamed, “MAXIMUS PRIME TURNS 5.”I planned all of it. Hired a Moscow decor crew that usually handled oligarch weddings. Even had my team build a small stage with hidden speakers directly synced to Max’s personal playlist.Because today....today was about him.My son. And I wasn’t half-assing it.Naturally, Max was far too busy chasing after two kittens, one gray, one orange, that he’d just received from Igor, who declared them “a personal gift from my Siberian cabin.”He named them Luna and Zuko, and was now desperately trying to get them into miniature capes and onto the driver’s seat of his toy car.“Come on, Zuko! You be the driver! LUNA, YOU'RE HIS B
Huling Na-update: 2025-06-30
Chapter: THE END : coffee, dictatorship, and youPascha.The pine trees outside the window swayed gently as the northern wind swept through their tops. The cries of winter gulls echoed faintly from the valley below, mingling with the creaking of hard-packed snow on the wooden rooftop.Or… mansion, as Belva would call it. But I still think that’s pretentious. It’s just a house. A house with a private sauna, a helipad, and a secret elevator to the basement, sure—but still just a house.I sat in my favorite leather chair, Max’s pick, staring at a projected P&L report on my tablet. The numbers were not pretty. But they were less infuriating than the fact that my father, Alexandr Romanov, had just handed over full control of Romanov International to me… and then jetted off on a second honeymoon to the Faroe Islands.“Perfect timing,” he said in that granite-carved voice of his.Translation: it’s time I stop being “the troublesome second son” and start acting like the head of the family.Unfortunately, he was right. Even more unfortunatel
Huling Na-update: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLXI : what i never said in time“I... want to see Mikaela.”He just shifted slightly, turning to face me completely, one brow arched. “The nurse said her contractions came back briefly last night.”“Exactly,” I murmured, swallowing the weight that suddenly thickened in my chest. “I need to see her.”“You feel guilty.”“She was taken because of me. Dragged into Ben’s chaos because of me. And she almost lost her baby because of... everything.” I stood, smoothing down the sweater I’d been wearing since morning.“Bee.” He chuckled under his breath. “You don’t have to pay for other people’s wounds with your own body.”I looked at him, sharp. “If I don’t try to calm her, who else will? She’s been used by Ben for so long. Threatened. Silenced. Manipulated. So don’t tell me I don’t owe her anything.”Pascha lifted one corner of his mouth. “You know… I bought them an island.”I blinked. “What?”“A private island,” he said casually. “For Ronan and Mikaela. A wedding gift... or a ‘hey, you almost died twice this year’ kind of
Huling Na-update: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLX : May God Strengthen YouThe first thing I saw when the door opened was Max, standing on a little step stool beside the bed, spoon-feeding porridge to Pascha with an expression so serious, you’d think he was taming a tiger that might bite at any second.“Daddy, stop faking,” Max commanded. “It’s good. Chew. I see your right molar’s still not doing any work.”Pascha groaned and opened his mouth, chewing with the dramatic expression of a war martyr. “Tastes like prison food…”“You’ve never been to prison,” Max cut in without mercy. “So don’t lie.”I bit back a laugh and stepped inside. But before I could say anything, my attention was drawn to the far corner of the room, where Mischa was standing with her hands on her hips, nose-to-nose with her mother.Tatiana, hair swept into a pristine updo and dressed in a pastel spring ensemble that looked more runway than recovery room, was staring at her daughter with a mix of frustration and confusion.“I only said maybe you could consider going back to summer ballet,”
Huling Na-update: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLIX : Men Who TryI slipped back into Pascha’s room after making sure Mischa and Max were fed and half-asleep from the tiny war they’d waged in the lounge with Clara.Pascha was already curled up in bed like a lazy burrito, the hospital blanket tucked up to his chin. His eyes narrowed the second he saw me standing in the doorway with a cup of tea in hand.“Bee,” he groaned, raspy, and dripping with manipulative drama. “I think… I’m going to die tonight.”I raised an eyebrow. “You had porridge, soup, and you’ve been complaining every two hours. That doesn’t qualify as ‘near death.’”He sighed dramatically, then shifted slightly to face me. In a whisper that was equal parts theatrical and pathetic, he said, “I need… my wife’s touch to fall asleep in peace.”I snorted, setting the tea down on the side table. “Your wife’s touch, or Max’s cookie stash in the left drawer?”He gave a crooked smile, half mischief, half something I could never quite read. “Both.”I laughed quietly and sat down on the edge of hi
Huling Na-update: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLVIII : slow-motion heroes This room… was far too big to be called a hospital room. The ceiling stretched high above us, the glass windows opened onto a private garden, and the sheer white curtains fluttered gently in the breeze from a near-silent ventilation system. The walls didn’t look anything like a hospital’s, they looked more like a five-star hotel suite.And all of it… was because of one name.Romanov.The hospital director greeted us last night with a smile so tight, I was convinced he iced his face the moment we left. Within five minutes, the entire upper wing of the hospital was cleared and sanitized. Nurses were switched out. Two specialists were called in at four in the afternoon.All because Alexandr Romanov said, “My son will be here.”Now, that son was sitting up in bed like a spoiled patient who’d watched too much daytime TV.Pascha was wearing a loose white t-shirt and joggers, a blanket draped over his lap. A tray of hospital chicken porridge sat on a movable table across his bed.“Who made t
Huling Na-update: 2025-06-28
Chapter: I Married Power, I Miss KindnessThe car cruised slowly down the winding roads of Rancho San Marino Alta, city lights beginning to flicker like scattered jewels across the Los Angeles skyline. Inside the black sedan, meant to be quiet and cool, the air had started to heat up, and not in a good way.“I still can’t believe they said that about Tiara,” I muttered, arms crossed over my chest, eyes locked on the road beyond the window. “In front of strangers, no less.”Reagan, sitting calmly in the passenger seat, lifted a brow. “You’re not a stranger, Tara. You’re my wife.”I turned sharply toward him. “That’s crap. They treated me like some marketable replacement. Like just because I haven’t burned down a kitchen, I’m somehow the better prize.”“Aren’t you?” he replied smoothly. “You’re more stable. More composed. Less dangerous.”I shifted my body to face him fully. “And that makes me more deserving?”He didn’t answer. His gaze stayed fixed on the window, his jaw tightening like he was holding something back.“I know y
Huling Na-update: 2025-07-07
Chapter: the girl in the borrowed placeThe De Russo estate sat at the highest point of Rancho San Marino Alta, a hidden enclave tucked into the hills of Pacific Heights. A place so private it didn’t show up on Google Maps unless you had the right kind of access.My fingers clutched a small satin clutch too tightly. My breath had been shallow ever since we passed the iron gates engraved with the De Russo crest in bronze.“Relax,” Reagan said beside me.I turned to him. “I am relax.”“If you squeeze that bag any harder, you’re going to tear the leather.”I exhaled. “I’m just not used to having dinner with people who watched me ‘replace the bride’ three days ago.”He gave me a sideways glance. “Don’t worry about that. They’ll pretend it never happened. Families like ours are experts at that.”The car slowed to a stop in front of what, if i'm being honest, was not a house. It was a palace. Spanish contemporary style, wide terrace facing south, lined with reflecting pools and bonsai gardens that were far too symmetrical to have
Huling Na-update: 2025-07-06
Chapter: a marriage of mirrorsNight had completely fallen by the time I arrived at the De Russo mansion.I came in through the front doors. The polished marble floor gleamed under the low lights. There wasn’t a sound, except for the soft ticking of the antique clock in the sitting room. The staff had probably already retreated to their quarters.I exhaled and took a deep breath, hoping the stillness of this place would calm the mess in my head after that dinner with Geraldo.But of course, I was hoping for too much."You finally came home."The voice came from down the hallway.Reagan was standing by the fireplace, which wasn’t lit. He was wearing a black T-shirt and dark gray joggers, his hair a little tousled like he’d just showered. A phone was in his hand, and from the look on his face, he hadn’t exactly been waiting for me.I straightened my shoulders. "Don’t start."He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t respond to any of my texts. You took my car and didn’t say you were leaving it at your office
Huling Na-update: 2025-07-04
Chapter: Was I the storm in your glass heart?The sun was already hanging low when I stepped out of the office.Reagan’s car was still there. That sleek black Aston Martin looked like some exotic animal in the wrong ecosystem. Flashy. Threatening. Out of place.I stared at it for a while before deciding to just leave it. Let Reagan deal with it.Geraldo was waiting by the curb. Leaning casually against his white SUV, wearing a light gray linen shirt with the top buttons undone and a pair of chinos. His slightly messy hair blew in the breeze, and that face, always glowing like sunshine, lit up the moment he saw me.“Hey, princesa,” Geraldo grinned, opening his arms like he always did.I fell into his hug before I could even say anything.Warm. Safe.Home.His embrace never felt like a palace built on chaos the way the De Russo world did. It wasn’t a grand performance. It was home. Simple. Honest. Real.He rubbed my back gently, then laughed quietly near my ear. “Rough day, huh?”I nodded into his shoulder. “Long. And heavy.”He ki
Huling Na-update: 2025-07-03
Chapter: Panic EyesAfternoons at the office usually moved faster than this. It wasn’t the work. SketchUp and AutoCAD still demanded precision, the monitors glowed bright as always, and the steady footsteps from the engineering division down the hall echoed just like every other day.But there was a fog in my head. Heavy. Like waking up from a bad dream and not quite remembering it was just a dream.The studio I worked at sat in one of those small industrial buildings in Beverly Hills, exposed brick walls, monstera plants hanging from the ceiling, and long solid wood tables divided between architects, interior designers, and the creative team. It always smelled like espresso and freshly cut wood.I sat in my favorite corner, at the walnut desk by the window, with two monitors glowing in front of me. I had a beachfront residence project open for a client in Santa Barbara. But after an hour, all I’d done was stare at the blue lines on the screen.My hand reached for my phone. Again.Still no reply from Tia
Huling Na-update: 2025-07-03
Chapter: Breakfast. Brunch.The morning air was already warming up as I came down the stairs, dressed in an oversized white button-up with the sleeves rolled and a pair of light brown trousers. My hair was half-up, my work bag slung over one shoulder. I wanted to leave. Fast.I needed space to breathe..and honestly, I needed to see a face that wasn’t the man who was now, technically, my husband.I stopped in my tracks when I saw Reagan standing by the front door, leaning casually against one of the marble columns with a cup of coffee in his hand. He’d already showered. His slightly damp hair gave it away and he wore a black sweater paired with tailored gray trousers.Way too handsome for such an infuriating morning.“Headed to work?” he asked.I shot him a blank stare and kept walking toward the door, but he didn’t move.He tilted his head slightly and raised his cup. “I’ll drive you.”I paused. Turned slowly. “What?”“You heard me.” He gave a lazy smile. “I’ll take you to work.”I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”“Bec
Huling Na-update: 2025-07-03
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