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Chapter 32-Victoria
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2026-10-23 17:28:49
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HIS SECRET SON Chapter 35-Thursday
Claire's POVThe Seine contract was awarded at two-seventeen p.m. on Thursday.I know the exact time because I was in the council chamber when it happened — sitting to Alexandre's left at the long table, my title on the name card in front of me, the formal record of the meeting that would show, for anyone who looked, that the head of stakeholder relations for the Laurent Group Seine project had been present at the moment the vote was called.Professional credit. Separated from the personal connection.Exactly as required.The vote was not close. Eight to two — Fontaine-Blanc voting yes with the decisive energy of a man who had made a decision and was not interested in revisiting it. The two dissenting votes were board members who had been in Victor Renard's orbit for years and whose dissent was noted in the record with the quiet significance of something that would be examined further in due course.The chair announced the result.Alexandre, beside me, did not visibly react. This was
HIS SECRET SON Chapter 34-The Morning After The Stprm
Alexandre's POVTuesday arrived quietly.This surprised me. I had expected the morning to carry the weight of the previous day — the article, the statement, the forty-seven notifications, the phone calls from people I had not spoken to in years who had apparently read four sentences and felt compelled to respond to them. I had expected to wake up into the specific noise of a crisis still running.Instead I woke up to rain.Paris in late October doing the thing it did when it decided the golden period was over — grey sky, steady rain, the particular sound of it on the window that belonged to no other city. Quiet. The kind of morning that reset things.Claire was asleep.This was — I was still adjusting to this. The specific reality of another person in the room. Not abstract, not negotiated, not carefully arranged. Simply there. On her side of the bed that had stopped being her side and become just the other side. Hair loose on the pillow. The grey jumper — mine, always mine now, she h
HIS SECRET SON Chapter 33-Fallout
Claire's POVThe statement went viral by seven p.m.Not the article — the statement. Alexandre's four sentences, published at five-forty-three on a Monday afternoon, had done something the article hadn't anticipated and the communications team hadn't predicted and I, sitting at my kitchen table at seven p.m. with Theo eating pasta beside me and my phone face down because I had made a decision not to look at it during dinner, had not been prepared for.People liked it.Not everyone. Not the financial press, who were still running the original framing with careful neutrality. Not the gossip columns, who had found a photograph of me from somewhere — outside the nursery gate, I thought, taken without my knowledge at some point in the last five weeks — and were running it alongside the article with captions that made me feel like a specimen.But people. Ordinary people, the kind who read a four-sentence statement from a billionaire that said what we have built is not a strategy, it is a fa
HIS SECRET SON Chapter 32-Victoria
Alexandre's POVI saw it at four-seventeen.Two minutes after Claire's face changed through the glass wall — the specific change of someone reading something that has rearranged something else. My phone lit up with Sébastien's name. He read me the headline before I reached her desk.She was already off the phone when I got there."You've seen it," she said."Just now."She looked at her screen. "It's detailed. The rent. The interview timeline. Someone gave them specific numbers — not generally behind, specifically three months." She looked at me. "Who knew that detail.""The background check," I said. "Standard procedure before your interview. The file went to HR." I looked at her desk. "Victoria has a contact there. Someone she's known since before the marriage. Marianne Fournier."Claire was quiet for a moment. "You've been certain since Sébastien called," she said. Not an accusation. A statement."Yes," I said.She nodded. Looked at the screen. "The article doesn't name her.""It w
HIS SECRET SON Chapter 31-Cracks in the Armour
Claire's POVThe prosecutor's office moved faster than anyone expected.Sébastien called on Monday morning — eleven days after we had sat in Delacroix's office on the Rue Bonaparte and watched a forensic document examiner look at three photographs and say single author with ninety-four percent confidence — to tell us that the formal investigation into Victor Renard had been opened.Not a preliminary inquiry. A formal investigation.Which meant prosecutors, investigators, the specific machinery of the French legal system engaging with the evidence we had built at a kitchen table over a weekend with a toddler providing worm updates — and finding it sufficient to proceed.I was at my desk when Sébastien called. Through the glass wall I could see Alexandre on his own call — standing at his window, hands behind his back, the thinking posture. He hadn't heard yet.I knocked on his door.He looked at me. Read my expression. Ended his call."Sébastien," I said."Tell me.""Formal investigatio
HIS SECRET SON Chapter 30-What We Are Now
Alexandre's POVTuesday became Wednesday.Wednesday became Thursday.Thursday became the end of the first week of something that didn't have a name yet — or rather, had a name neither of us had said aloud, which was its own kind of acknowledgment that the name existed and we were both aware of it and were approaching it at the pace of two people who had learned, through different routes, that rushing toward good things could make them fragile.We were not rushing.We were simply — living. In the specific, ordinary, extraordinary way of people who have stopped pretending and discovered that what was underneath the pretending was better than anything the pretending had been protecting.Mornings first.This was where it showed most clearly — not in the large things, not in the professional partnership or the fraud case or the family dinners, but in the mornings. The specific texture of a Tuesday becoming a Wednesday becoming a Thursday in a kitchen in the 16th arrondissement where two pe
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