All Chapters of His Son, Her Secret: Chapter 261 - Chapter 264

The 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,”

Pascha.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