All Chapters of His Heir, Her Secret: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

Lucien’s POVShe looked at me like I was a ghost.It wasn’t the usual reaction I got when walking into a room—fear, awe, admiration, maybe a hint of jealousy. No, this was different. Her expression hit me like a cold wave—eyes wide, skin pale, breath caught in her throat.And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.Isla Monroe.The name lingered in my mind long after the meeting ended. I knew I’d seen her before. Not in a vague, have we met at some gala? kind of way. No, this was different. She struck something deep, something old. Like a song you haven’t heard in years that still makes your chest tighten.But I couldn’t place her. That infuriated me.I’d spent years sharpening my instincts, reading people in seconds, uncovering lies with a glance. Yet the moment I looked into her eyes, all of that precision slipped.Familiar. That’s what she was.Too familiar.I stood at the window of my penthouse hours later, the city skyline spread out like a conquest. But I wasn’t thinking

Isla’s POVThe problem with memories is that they don’t fade the way they should.They linger—sharp and bright—no matter how much time or distance you put between yourself and the past.That night after the confrontation in Lucien’s office, I lay awake in bed long after Leo had fallen asleep. I watched his little chest rise and fall, his fingers curled around his stuffed dinosaur like it was a shield. And I let the memory take me.Because I needed to remember why I left.Why I ran.Tuscany, Five Years AgoIt was the kind of summer morning you never forget. Warm, golden light spilled across the vineyard. Bees hummed lazily in the lavender. Lucien—Luke, as I’d known him then—was barefoot in the kitchen, making coffee, shirtless, his hair a wild mess I’d made the night before.I remember watching him and thinking, God, this is dangerous.He looked up and grinned. “You’re staring.”I smiled into my tea. “Can you blame me?”He walked over, leaned down, and kissed the side of my neck like i

Isla’s POVThere’s no manual for this.No book, no blog, no podcast on how to tell your child the truth when you’ve spent their entire life protecting them from it.After I left Lucien’s penthouse, I walked for nearly an hour. Past the glittering towers of Midtown, past the tourists and food carts, down into the quieter parts of the city where the noise didn’t drown out my thoughts.Telling Leo would change everything.He was only four—but he was smart. Sharp in a way that unnerved most adults. And sensitive, like me. He noticed things. Absorbed tension. Asked questions when no one else dared.He’d ask why I lied.And I didn’t know how to answer that yet.I picked him up from daycare just before closing. He came sprinting into my arms, dinosaur backpack bouncing on his back, a trail of glitter still stuck in his hair.“Mommy!” he squealed, throwing his arms around my neck.“Hey, baby. Did you have fun today?”“Yeah! We painted dragons and Liam spilled juice on Miss Dana and it looked

Lucien’s POVWe walked in silence for a few more moments, the cool evening air surrounding us as the last rays of the sun dipped behind the trees. Leo was a few steps ahead, his little legs moving quickly, clearly enjoying the freedom of the open space. But it was Isla’s silence that weighed heavily on me.I could feel the distance between us—the invisible gap that had only grown wider with the years. She was here, but she wasn’t here. Her presence was physical, but her heart, her mind—they were somewhere else, locked away behind walls I wasn’t sure I could scale.I knew she was angry. I knew she had every right to be.But more than that, she was scared. And I understood that fear. Hell, I lived with it every day. Fear of the unknown, fear of things not working out, fear of losing the one thing that had kept me human for so long: Leo.“You don’t trust me,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.Isla didn’t flinch, but I saw the tightening of her jaw. She kept her eye