All Chapters of THE BILLIONAIRE SECRET TWIN HEIR : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

My stomach dropped. One Walton I might handle, but both? And Elizabeth had always been the more formidable opponent."Boys, why don't you show Tina that science project in your room?" I suggested, trying to keep my voice casual.Alex—perceptive as always—frowned. "Is something wrong, Mom?""No, sweetheart. I just need to talk to your grandfather and... his wife."Nelson turned to me. "I can ask her to leave."The offer surprised me. "Would she listen?""Probably not," he admitted. "But I could try, if you prefer."The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time."It's fine," I lied. "Boys, upstairs please. I'll call you when we're done."After they reluctantly retreated with Tina, I squared my shoulders and opened the door.Elizabeth Walton stood on my porch, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit that probably cost more than three months of my rent. Her silver-blonde hair was swept into an elegant chignon, not a strand out of place. Unlike Nelson, she hadn't aged much in eigh

"Get back upstairs, Austin. Now!" I snapped, stepping between my son and Michael."But Mom—""Now!" My voice cracked like a whip.Austin's eyes widened. I rarely used that tone with him. His bottom lip trembled as he backed away, but not before shooting one more curious glance at Michael."Is everything okay?" Alex appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Perfect. Just what I needed—both boys awake for this nightmare."Everything's fine," I called up, my forced cheerfulness fooling no one. "Go back to bed, both of you. We'll talk in the morning.""But that's—" Alex started."In the morning, Alex!" I cut him off, hands shaking. "This isn't up for discussion."The boys retreated, whispering furiously to each other. I turned back to Michael, fury bubbling up inside me."Who the hell do you think you are?" I hissed, keeping my voice low enough that the boys wouldn't hear, but injecting every syllable with venom. "Showing up at my house in the middle of the night, an

Three days of silence stretch between Michael and me, broken only by the constant buzzing of my phone—reporters seeking comments on the "Walton Heir Bombshell" story. I've instructed Tina to deflect all calls while I focus on damage control with the twins."Mom, why are there people with cameras outside?" Alex asks at breakfast, peering through the kitchen blinds. His cereal sits forgotten, soggy flakes floating in milk."They're just being nosy," I say, gently pulling him away from the window. "Remember what we talked about? Some people are very interested in your father's family."Austin stabs at his pancakes. "Is that why Dad didn't take us to the museum? Because of those people?"The question pierces my heart. I've spent three days carefully avoiding mentioning Michael, unsure how to explain Elizabeth's legal threats without vilifying their grandmother before they've had a chance to form their own opinions."It's complicated, sweetie." I smooth Austin's unruly hair, so like Michae

~ Three Days Later ~*MICHAEL POV*"Please, Aria. Just one dinner." I leaned against the doorframe of her sleek modern office, watching her fingers fly across her keyboard without missing a beat. Eight years hadn't diminished her beauty, but they'd hardened something in her eyes. Those same eyes that now barely flicked in my direction."I've asked three times this week, Michael. The answer hasn't changed." Her voice was calm, controlled—a far cry from the woman who once laughed so freely in our home."My father wants to know his grandsons better," I said, playing the one card I knew might work. "And the boys deserve to know their family, don't they?"Aria's fingers stilled. A tiny victory. "Your father?" She finally looked up. "Or your mother?"I shifted uncomfortably. "Both of them.""Elizabeth made her feelings perfectly clear the last time. What was it she said? Something about my 'unconventional parenting' making the boys 'difficult to integrate into polite society'?" Each word

The first weekend the boys were scheduled to stay with Michael felt like preparing for a military operation. I packed and repacked their overnight bags, meticulously labeling medications, writing down Alex's allergy information, and including detailed notes about Austin's sleep habits."Mom, you're doing it again," Alex said, watching me from my bedroom doorway as I folded his favorite sweatshirt for the third time."Doing what?" I smoothed invisible wrinkles from the fabric."That thing with your eyebrows." He scrunched his face in imitation. "You look like you're planning a bank heist."I forced my face to relax. "I just want to make sure you have everything you need.""It's just two days, Mom." Alex sighed with the world-weary exasperation only an eight-year-old could muster. "And Dad has a housekeeper. And, like, fifty bathrooms."Dad. The word still felt like a splinter under my skin every time they used it. Six weeks since Michael had bulldozed his way back into our lives, and a